#Even as a white person I can tell when an author isn’t accustomed to writing black characters who use AAVE

[baronessofmischief]

I think in terms of deciding whether or not to write accents phonetically (I’m against it) it mostly comes down to the fact non-native speakers will almost always do it incorrectly and it ends up being seen— however well-intended— as an insult, parody, or stereotype. This can also be said of (and has been said many times about) using other languages in a story. If you haven’t lived in and taken an active focus on actually studying the way accents form and evolve and function within a specific environment, including speaking extensively with people who have that particular dialect or accent, you are much more likely to do harm than good in including it in your writing.

There are innumerable places where it could be done incorrectly; accents, dialects, and language will be used differently across age, gender, class, social standing, environment, time period, subculture, context, and individual persons, even when the two people speaking are from the exact same culture. It’s not to say you can’t do it, it’s to say if you’re going to do it, you need to do it right. You need to be able to justify how and why you wrote something the way you did outside of “It sounded good.” Back it up with research and justify your reasoning, and above all be receptive to criticism and admit when you’re wrong or unaware of something pointed out to you.

I’m not even someone for whom English is a second language and I can frequently tell when an accent or dialect is being used incorrectly because I’ve seen it done even with American accents. It’s very easy to tell when someone who isn’t southern or midwestern or northeastern isn’t a native to those regions.

And I know it ’s hard! But guess what: writing is hard. If this isn’t something you’re willing to commit time to, best not to use it at all.

Plenty of other people can talk more about the foreign language aspect, but if you want advice for writing accents in English: don’t write it phonetically unless it’s an entirely different word (ex. “Y’all” being a contraction of “you all”). Number one: it’s harder to process and puzzle out in a written format especially since every writer is likely to do it differently using their own arbitrary set of rules, and number two, you’re much more liable to make your character look like a cartoon stereotype which any number of people will at best, simply back out of a fic and possibly not read your work with those characters again, or at worst, be insulted or harmed by the depiction. It’s worsened by the fact that if that reader says nothing, you the writer get away with it, and if they DO say something, they risk backlash or active harm. It’s a lose/lose situation.

Instead of changing the spelling of the word and adding a bunch of apostrophes, focus more on actual vocabulary and slang to the point you can give the reader enough flavor to ‘hear’ how that character speaks and move on. Additionally, don’t have them spout random phrases that don’t make sense in context of the scene just to emphasize the fact they’re “not from around here.” There are very few cases where someone is going to project random idioms as a means of announcing their presence to the room as someone with a different way of speaking.

Environmental context clues should inform the reader of what region the character’s voice is from. You the author know what the character is saying— so write what they’re saying and trust your readers to fill in the gaps. If you’re a native English speaker, writing broken English is going to come across as rude and ignorant no matter how well you think you’ve done it.

[bvidzsoo]

White Lilies

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

 Warning: swearing, violence, mentions of death, stalking, breaking in, borderline toxic relationship, allude to some mental health conditions but never named

 Word count: 26, 815

 Summary: Your brother, Kim Doyoung, works for the police. Ever since you finished high school, you moved away from home with him and now you live in a big city. You struggle with different things, but the worst one is the tendency to stalk others. And one day when you walk inside a coffee shop and come across a very handsome stranger, you can’t help yourself, he becomes your next target. Jeon Wonwoo. But he isn’t innocent, you find that out the hard way.

 Taglist: @chal-kagyu​ @taeyongandfree​ @minkwans​ @itsdnguyenxoxo​ @rjsmochii​

 Unable to tag: @cheolliehugs @3rachaonlyfans @leahxxiong

 A/N: Here it is! The spin off to Poison, it can be read as a stand alone, if not check out the mini-series: Poison. Minor things will make more sense. I hope it doesn’t bother you that I tagged you for this too, since it’s connected in some ways. Now, there’s things I have written in this oneshot that are totally not okay and I am very conscious of them, so please, if you ever come across a stalker or someone who harassess you, please report them, your safety is very important. But this is fiction, and I’m allowed to write whatever I want to. All the sentences in italics are the voices that Y/N hears. Enjoy now and don’t forget to leave feeback!

           All mornings were usually the same, it was a routine I became accustomed to a long time again. Five years ago, actually, when Doyoung and I moved away from home. There is only a two-year difference between us, so it was easy for me to follow him, having been already done with high school. Doyoung completed the police academy and he was being promoted, brought to Seoul, so I packed up and left my old life in our hometown. Nothing tied me to that place, I never liked it there. My parents were hot headed and they always argued with me, trying to convince me to become a house wife, to find myself a wealthy man that would care for me and for our family. But it wasn’t what I needed; I had always been a free spirit. I liked to explore and disappear from civilization from time to time. Like in eleventh grade, when I sneaked out and disappeared for ten days, the whole city was looking for me. However, I was living in the woods, by the outskirts of the city, in a small hut with a nice, old lady. She moved there after she gave up her job, because she wanted a peaceful life, surrounded by nature only. When she saw me wandering around, she offered me some tea and I accepted it, surprised to see someone living there. The hut wasn’t deep inside the woods, but it still took me by surprise that a lady like her wasn’t afraid inside there all alone. I wasn’t a big fan of forests, but being surrounded by trees and the green scenery always calmed my erratic nature. It was hard for me to stay still sometimes, that’s why Doyoung and I would regularly go on runs, to try and use up my energy on something. In school, I didn’t do very well, but it didn’t bother me. I was able to finish high school and get a diploma, but I didn’t want to go to college. I found it a waste of time and money, I decided I would find something that I liked doing and would excel in it. And with the help of the old lady from the hut, I realized I had a passion for photography. I got my first camera from her, and ever since then I didn’t stop taking pictures. It became my passion and my hobby, it earned me money. I was known for taking nature pictures, sometimes even of animals, and I had my own little blog where I posted all of my works. Sometimes I’d have my pictures put up in galleries for expositions, I earned well during those events. The small house Doyoung and I lived in, was full of all the pictures I took. We lived in a homey, quiet neighborhood, deep inside the heart of the city. Doyoung earned well and my salary always fluctuated, that’s why I decided to stay with my big brother, at least until I had gathered enough money to live on my own.

The house smelled of bacon and peppermint tea as I opened the window of my room, letting the fresh morning air in. I was already dressed for the day, camera packed safely inside my bag, waiting for a call. I wore dark velvet cotton pants and an oversized grey sweater with a deep V, due to which it fell off my shoulders. Ankle high heel boots and a few necklaces I used as accessories complimented the look. It was becoming warmer and warmer outside, which was great, because I never liked wearing coats. Besides, I rarely needed them, I had the unusual trait of not exactly feeling the cold. I was always underdressed during winter and it scared some people, especially Doyoung because he had the impression that I’d catch a cold, but it’s just how my body was, always too hot. I checked my phone to be sure that Mark didn’t decide to text me instead of calling me, but seeing there was nothing, I closed the window and took my bag, leaving my room. I closed the door after me, a habit I had, and headed inside the kitchen. Doyoung was in his police uniform already, moving around quietly the kitchen.

“Good morning!” I called loudly, sitting at the table, with my chin in my hand.

“Good morning.” Doyoung greeted, quieter, and turned around with a plate and mug in his hands. He placed them in front of me and I grinned, thanking him. I took the fork and dug into my breakfast, humming at how tasty it was. Even if our mornings were always the same, the breakfast wasn’t. Doyoung always had something up his sleeves, either trying out new recipes he searched up late at night, or just trying to replicate mother’s old recipes. I took a sip of the peppermint tea and pursed my lips, giving Doyoung a thumbs up as he closed the stove and turned to sit with his own plate and mug in his hands. He chuckled and mirror my thumbs up, before starting to eat too. We ate in silence, it’s how we were in the mornings, quiet. It was the only time Doyoung could savor the silence, because it was the only time I was silent. My hyperactivity followed me through all stages of life, I still struggled with staying still…that amongst other things.

Doyoung cleared his throat and I glanced at him, before checking my phone again, “What are your plans for today?”

“Ah, the usual.” I answered with a smile, trying to look nonchalant, so that he wouldn’t realize I was lying, “I’ll just go to the park and take some pictures if I find something I like.”

Doyoung nodded and took a bite of his bacon, “Don’t you think it’s time to…find a more stable work?”

“Like what?”

“Getting employed at a studio, maybe? You know…you could go to weddings, birthdays…all kinds of events to take pictures.” Doyoung’s suggestion was friendly, but it still angered me. I left home because I didn’t want to hear the constant nagging of our parents, but here he was, doing the same thing.

“I’m a nature photographer. And I wouldn’t like working inside a studio, or whatever.” I said a little harshly, making Doyoung sigh.

“I’m not judging you or trying to tell you what to do,” He knew how I could react to these things, he knew how much anxiety my parents induced when they would try and tell me what to do with my own life, “It was just a brotherly advice, because I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to!” I exclaimed cheerily, my phone ringing at the same time. I shot my hand out to grab it and answered the phone, already knowing who the caller was.

“Target is getting ready to leave, he’ll be at the same Coffee Shop he was for the past week.” Was all the person said before I hung up, stuffing the rest of the food inside my mouth hurriedly. I scrambled up from the chair and clumsily threw my phone inside my bag, trying to chug down the peppermint tea at the same time.

“Who was that?”

“Just some person trying to sell me something—” A burp I couldn’t control surfaced and Doyoung’s eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, but I just gave him an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you after work.”

I pressed a hasty kiss against his cheek, then raced to my car and unlocked it, throwing my bag inside before getting in. I would have to get to the Coffee Shop before the target gets there, to choose a good spot. This is what Doyoung didn’t know about me. I wasn’t just a nature photographer, I worked together with his colleague, Mark, whose job was to gather information about the targets the police had. He was really good at it, but sometimes he couldn’t gather enough information by sitting behind a computer. That’s where I come in play, I go out and stalk his targets. A year ago, Doyoung had a gathering with the colleagues he was closer to and I was invited too. Mark got really drunk and I offered to drive him home, that’s when he started telling me about his work. About how he already almost got fired twice, because his information wasn’t good enough or it was lacking. And because I was always seeking new experiences and new adventures, I proposed to help him. Of course, he’d have to pay me, but I’d stalk the targets for as long as he’d need me to. Until all information that was needed was gathered for him, which he could turn into a report and pass onto the higherups. He accepted without a second thought in his drunken haze and I was beyond happy; but I asked him to keep it a secret, especially from Doyoung. If my brother were to find out, he’d definitely either lock me up in our basement or send me back home, both were things I wouldn’t be able to survive. And being in this city was good for me, it was big enough that it distracted me from my other issues. Back in my hometown, everyone knew almost everyone and it was too easy to find someone you wanted to know. Which was bad for me, bad for someone who had stalking tendencies. That’s why I have been working with Mark for a year now, I was just too good, no one ever discovered me or my identity. I knew how to stay low-key and I knew how to work around the targets without them noticing that someone was trailing them almost 24/7. Having this job, it distracted me from getting infatuated with anyone, I didn’t have the time anymore. And it was a lot more thrilling to be trailing different people each month. It was a distraction from the dark voices in my head, which tried telling me that the next man that appeared around the corner could have been the love of my life. Or the woman that I ran into at the flower shop, could have been my soulmate. I hated those thoughts, and I battled with them my whole life. I used to take medication, it silenced them while I was a teen, but it still didn’t stop me from stalking others. So, as I grew older, I stopped taking them and I started spending more time in nature, where I was alone. Photography wasn’t just a job for me, it was my own therapy.

           Everything was set up perfectly, I grinned widely as I leaned back in my seat. My bag was on the chair next to me, the camera placed on the table. For this to work, I needed as many people as there were inside the Coffee Shop to see it. Thankfully, traffic wasn’t bad and I got here five minutes before the target. I sat close to the exit, from where I could see the whole shop well and could run away too if something happened. The target too was really transparent, he sat at the same table he’s been sitting at for the past week. Next to the big windows, behind his table there were a bunch of plants decorating the place and a painting of flowers was hung above it. Which was perfect for me, my plan was coming together. The target has already ordered his coffee, so now it was my time to do something. I took my wallet and walked up to the barista, having hung the camera around my neck. The weight of it was comforting, having worn it for so long, that it became something familiar. I smiled at the barista and looked over the menu behind her, acting like I was thinking of what I wanted, offering her enough time to take in my attire closely.

“I’ll have Caramel Macchiato.” Finally, I told her and she nodded, returning the smile, as I handed her the money.

“A name?” I was glad this wasn’t the barista who took my orders the other times, I didn’t want them to recognize me. I wouldn’t come to this Coffee Shop either way anymore after I was done with this job.

“Y/N.” I answered the barista and she nodded, passing the cup with my name written on it, to her colleague. She printed the receipt and handed it to me, her eyes falling onto my camera. As there was no customer behind me at the moment, she looked at me curiously.

“You’re a photographer?” She asked as the coffee brewer started making loud noises.

“A nature photographer!” I told her with excitement and the barista nodded her head, offering me a friendly smile.

“I tried it once, it wasn’t made for me.” We chuckled at her words and I just shrugged.

“It requires patience and technique, for sure.” I said and she nodded her head in agreement, “By the way…this floral arrangement—”

And then I turned my body sideways, eyes falling on the target. He was just a few feet away, I made sure to speak even louder, so that he would hear me, “The floral arrangement is so pretty! Do you mind if I take pictures of it?”

The barista thought about it as my drink was done and handed to me by the other worker, “I don’t think it’s a problem, go ahead!”

“Thank you!” I bowed my head a little and she bid me farewell. My plan was working, I just needed to do one more thing. So, with the most innocent expression I could muster up, I approached the target. I knew he heard the conversation between me and the barista, but I wanted to make sure he understood what I was about to do.

“Sir, excuse me—” I spoke softly, almost shyly, “Do you mind if I take pictures of this floral arrangement? You won’t be in frame at all.”

“Go ahead.” He answered me with a very uninterested shrug, the wrinkles around his eyes made him look older than the age Mark told me. I bowed my head and placed my Caramel Macchiato on top of his table, turning on my camera. I kneeled on one knee and started snapping photos of the plants, pursing my lips, trying to get the perfect angle. Then I rose to my feet, and took another one, the painting above it being included in the shot too.

“I’ll take some more from my own table, just letting you know…” I spoke up again, but the man wasn’t paying attention to me. I smirked a little, grabbing my drink from his table, cradling it in both of my hands. With a victorious look on my face, I turned with enthusiasm and took a step forward blindly. My body slammed into another body, and we both yelped loudly. Mine was high pitched, but the other one was deep and almost guttural. My heart started thumping in my chest loudly, taken aback by the accident, and hopeful that I didn’t spill my drink on my favorite sweater nor on the person I ran into.

“I’m so—” But when I looked up, I was left breathless. The man standing in front of me was frowning, looking over himself, to check if anything got spilled on him. Thankfully, the lid of the drink was put on really well and the way I was holding the cup stopped it from spilling out. The thumping of my heart became deafening and all I could see suddenly was the man standing in front of me.

He’s the one. Don’t let him slip past your fingertips.

The dark voice, however, quickly snapped me out of the state I almost got lost in. The target, I’m here on a very serious mission, Mark’s counting on me. But the man’s eyes would be forever ebbed inside my mind, I knew I would think about his sharp, fox like eyes before going to sleep tonight…or every night. Round glasses sat on his long nose and he pushed them up with his long fingers, they almost fell off at the impact. When his lips started moving, all I could see was the redness of them and how deep his Cupid’s bow was. Then I snapped out of it, eyebrows furrowing as I totally missed what he just said.

“Uh—I’m really sorry.” I said awkwardly, stepping back when I realized how close our bodies were to each other.

“It’s fine, you didn’t spill any on me…or you.” His eyes went to the sweater I was wearing for a second before he looked back up. His deep voice sent goosebumps down my skin and I very visibly shivered, but I wasn’t cold. The dark blue hoodie this handsome stranger wore seemed to be alright.

“Yeah, I didn’t spill it…” My mind felt like it was made out of gum, I had no coherent thoughts and it made me feel awkward. Taking a last glance at the handsome stranger, noting how his black hair was clumsily parted above his left eye, I bowed, and then willed myself to move away.

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

I walked back to my table and took a seat, taking a deep breath in. I can’t let myself get distracted. I run into strangers all the time; this handsome, deep voiced man wasn’t different at all. I couldn’t let the voices get to me, I had to focus on the target. So, I took a big gulp of my Caramel Macchiato and then looked at the target. He was tapping the table almost nervously, so I turned on my camera again and took two pictures of him, then one of the floral arrangement to make sure it didn’t look suspicious. I looked around the Coffee Shop and my eyes fell on the handsome stranger, who was laughing with the barista. What could they have been talking about? The jingling of the door snapped me out of my own thoughts and I watched as a tall woman, wearing a business suit, walked inside. Her hair was in a low ponytail and she looked fairly young, I almost lost interest in her, but then she sat across from the target. I took another picture of the floral arrangement and then snapped a bunch of pictures of the two, making sure the woman’s face could be seen well in all. There was movement in the corner of my eyes and I saw the stranger sitting at a table close to the front desk.

You should snap a picture of him too.

I cleared my throat and took another sip of my drink, the target and the young woman got up from their table, and I quickly went to grab my bag and pushed my camera inside. As I stood up, a name was called.

“Wonwoo?” And I saw the handsome stranger stand up and walk up to the barista to take his drink. Wonwoo, that’s his name. But I shook my head and waved at the barista with a cheerful smile as I quickly left the Coffee Shop, eyes narrowing to see the couple. To my luck, they were walking on the other side of the road, so I remained on this side and fished out my camera.

So, you’ll leave Wonwoo for that pathetic old man and the woman? He’s not more important?

I shook my head and snapped a few pictures as I walked on the sidewalk, getting to a cross. I crossed the road and cursed when they disappeared around the corner, I had to speed up; and threw the cup in the trash bin as I have finished my drink. I looked around once I turned the corner and panicked for a second, thinking I lost the target. But suddenly, I spotted them sitting on a bench in the park, so I headed that way. I started taking pictures of the river and the few birds sitting by the shore, then of the trees that have blossomed already. The white cherry blossoms were beautiful and I smiled to myself as a light breeze brushed my hair. Then I willed myself to focus again and turned the camera towards the target and the woman, who had decided to take a walk. There was a decent distance between them and I, and to anyone else, it would look like I’m taking pictures of the nature; which I was still kind of doing. The couple walked around for at least five minutes, and I decided to sit on a bench and watch them from there, putting on my shades as the sun was directly in front of me. I was just about to snap a picture of a little duck family, but the woman leaned in towards the target and I quickly started snapping pictures of them. It looked like she whispered something in his ear and then a kiss was pressed against the target’s cheek and the woman walked the opposite way they have come in. I snapped pictures of her alone too before turning back towards the target, who was on his phone. He was on the other side of the river, and I couldn’t have reached him in time, or follow him, my car was ten minutes away from here. So, I just continued snapping more pictures, and my eyebrows furrowed when someone got into the frame. The black hair covered the side of the picture, and I moved a little to the left, leaning against the trunk of a tree. I snapped pictures of the license plate and of the target as he got inside the car, seeing someone already inside of it. I smirked to myself as the car drove away and pulled my phone out, going to my contacts. I pressed the icon next to the name ‘Money Bag’ and it dialed the number.

“Anything?” Mark picked up on the first ring.

“A young chick showed up, but they split up and I lost both. My car wasn’t close enough.”

“That’s fine, where are you now?”

“At the park, by the river.”

“Okay, meet me in front of the town hall.” I hung up and placed everything inside my bag as I started walking back to my car, enjoying the weather and the warm sunlight. Spring was finally around the corner, it was the perfect time to snap pictures of nature, or at least, my favorite time. As a second thought, I took my camera into my hands and turned it on, curious of how the nature pictures turned out. I scrolled past the ones of the target and woman, and chuckled when the one with the ducks came into view. They were cute, people would like this. As I continued looking through the pictures, the ones where someone got into them, made me frown. I was about to delete them, but my finger paused. Black hair, sharp jaw, long nose, round glasses.

You know you can’t delete it. You can’t fight the urge, can’t you? Wonwoo’s the one, listen to us!

           The town hall wasn’t far from the park, so I didn’t bother driving there. Besides, I liked taking walks. It helped with calming me, even though I was desperately in need of a run right now. After waking up, Doyoung and I go straight for a run, but I slept in this morning and I’m sure Doyoung woke up later too as he worked until late last night. He said his boss, Sana, was making him work extra hours because she was sniffing around a very powerful mafia leader. I was aware of the illegal things some people did, sometimes the people I had to stalk for Mark weren’t the brightest, I was well aware of that, but I was never offered information about them. It was Mark’s way of protecting me from harm, which I didn’t think did much. If I was caught, they wouldn’t care if I knew or not things about them, I probably would have been still tortured. Which is why I asked Mark to keep the details to himself, if I knew that I was stalking a mafia leader or some other gang member, I probably would’ve been too scared to go through with the procedure.  

I was shifting my weight from one leg to another as I stood waiting around for Mark, pouting when I looked down at my wrist watch. I’ve been standing here for ten minutes; I was becoming really bored. I took my phone and sent a text to Doyoung, checking up on him.

From Doyoung: Just had my lunch break, I’ll be heading back to work. It’s possible I’ll be back late once again.

To Doyoung: No problem, I’ll leave some dinner for you.

From Doyoung: What are you up to?

To Doyoung: I’ll be going for a run in a few minutes, see you at home!

From Doyoung: Take care of yourself!

I smiled and as I looked up, Mark was walking towards me. I started waving at him with a big grin, my phone almost fell from my grip, but I managed to steady it. Mark was wearing dark jeans and a black hoodie, with a black baseball cap on his head. If this was him trying to be casual, he was failing.

“Stop drawing attention to us!” He said with a hiss as he came to a stop in front of me and I frowned.

“That’s not how you should treat someone so important to your team.” I said and Mark rolled his eyes, extending one hand. He was gripping some cash and I took it with a grin, quickly placing it inside my bag.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” I said teasingly and Mark rolled his eyes again, I handed him the memory card, “Take good care of it! And don’t delete the other pictures I took; some came out really well!”

“I won’t.” He said with a grin and then looked down at the card, “Your job is done here, wait until I contact you again. You could go on a vacation or something.”

I laughed quietly, giving Mark a look, “Yes, captain, I might just do that.”

Mark shook his head before taking off with a wave, I waved back and then turned to walk inside the second-hand shop. I greeted the lady and told her I just wanted to change inside the cabin, so she left me alone. I changed my normal attire into my running one. Yoga pants and adidas, a black top with a fluffy hoodie over it. I pulled my hair in a low bun and stuffed everything inside my big bag, it’s why I carried it around. Random runs were the best, always exciting as I never knew where I felt like going for one. I smiled at the lady from front desk as I left the shop, heading for my car. The walk was quick because I tried to hurry up, excited to go for the run. Once I got to my car, I placed my bag inside and then locked it, having my phone and keys in the pocket of the hoodie. I headed back to the park where I took the pictures of the target and woman, and first did a little warm up. I stretched my legs out and back a little, and then started running. I took steady breaths as I ran down the path, my pace not very fast but not slow either. My heartrate picked up as I continued running and I marveled in the peace around me. The scenery brought a smile onto my lips as I ran past some couples; I willed my mind to stop thinking. It was a hard thing to do at first, I was always thinking of something, but I had to learn due to the dark voices that would sometimes push me into doing things. I could ignore them, now better than when I was younger, but it was still difficult. The problem was, they could drive me crazy, I couldn’t ignore them forever, and in times like those, I would disappear. Doyoung hated it when I did that, but I haven’t had an episode like that in long.

But you can’t stop thinking about Wonwoo. You want him, you know it. You can’t lock us away anymore, Y/N, we are here. Wonwoo wants you too. Didn’t you see the way he looked at you? He fell for you, Y/N, listen to us once again. Do it. Just ask Mark. He’ll find him in a second for you. You didn’t delete his picture; you have his name—

A loud shout left my lips as I tumbled over some rocks that were on the path, but thankfully I didn’t fall. My eyebrows furrowed as I crouched down to hug my knees against my chest. I can’t let the voices get to me. I can’t let one stranger fuck up what I built up with so much struggle. I couldn’t let a stranger rule my life. I wouldn’t let the voices get to me, no matter what. I was stronger than that. With a deep breath, chest rising and falling quickly, I turned around and started running back. The energy burst I had this morning seemed to have disappeared, which was a good sign. I would have to take a bath at home and then cook some dinner, edit the pictures I took today after Mark drops off the memory card and post them on my blog. Well, that settles it then, I smiled as I came to the end of the path. I slowed down to a walk and took deep breaths, leveling my breathing. I turned to walk on the sidewalk and felt the breeze brush my hair once again, making me shiver a little bit. My body was warm from the run and I concluded that sitting inside my warm car while I was sweaty was probably a better idea than spending more time outside, in the cold breezy weather. But my mind went numb when I saw the black-haired man sitting on a bench with a book in his hands. My feet were still moving, but it felt like I wasn’t in control of it anymore. The Universe was really testing me today. I bit my lower lip and unconsciously grabbed my phone inside my pocket.

No, the Universe is doing for you what you didn’t want to do, Y/N. He’s right there, sitting on that bench, waiting for you. How could you let this opportunity slip past your fingertips? You want it, so do it.

I didn’t realize it until it was too late, my finger had already pressed the button, a picture of Wonwoo having been taken. I hated myself for doing it, but it felt like all stress finally left my body. I felt at ease, I wasn’t fighting with my thoughts anymore, with the dark voices. In the end, I really didn’t have a choice but to fall back into my old habits. And I was doing so well, until Wonwoo showed up. What will Doyoung think if he finds out? I can’t be sent to a psychic ward again, it wouldn’t help. They never help; I hate the medication they give me. I can survive without them too. Maybe if I stalk him for a week or two, I can get rid of the voices and go back to how I was before meeting him. But I pressed the button again, another picture snapped of Wonwoo. I wasn’t walking anymore, I was rooted in one place, mouth hanging open as I gazed at Wonwoo in awe. I must have looked hilarious, crazy even, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t look away; I couldn’t even move. But then suddenly, he didn’t flip the page of the book like he was planning to do, instead, he looked up. And his eyes fell on me, as if he felt that I was looking at him, and I jumped. His furrowed eyebrows snapped me out of my delirium, his sharp gaze sent a shiver down my spine and suddenly I found myself running away. I didn’t care what he thought, I was ashamed that I let the voices control me; it was time I headed home. It would be safer for everyone else if I just stayed at home.

That’s our girl, you’re doing amazing.

           The first thing I did once I got home was clean the house, my blood was boiling as I lost grip of the voices, which kept celebrating for I have taken those two pictures of Wonwoo in the park. In that rage, I deleted them from my phone and threw my phone in the trash bin I had in my room, slamming the door shut as I went to the bathroom to grab what I needed to clean the house. I turned on music, played it loudly too, blocking out the noises coming from outside, but the voices in my mind too. Due to my rage, I was done in almost two hours, it usually would take longer if someone tried to clean the house alone, we had a lot of stuff despite it not being a big house. Once I calmed down, I went to the kitchen and made some ramen, sweet potatoes made in the oven, and some seasoned pork. I went and bought beer for Doyoung and myself, and after putting them in the fridge, I decided to check my phone to see if anyone tried looking for me. It was six in the afternoon and I hoped Doyoung didn’t think that I was kidnapped…well, he’d actually know that. For my own safety, he installed an app on my phone that could track me. I only accepted it because I knew he worried a lot about me, Doyoung and I had a strong bond and the episodes I had always broke him mentally, I tried to be a better person for him too.

From Doyoung: I don’t think the ramens in the cupboard are still edible. Text me if you get home!

To Doyoung: Well, I cooked those ramens, so now they are edible! Sorry, I cleaned the house so I wasn’t around my phone…

From Doyoung: Cleaned the house? Are you feeling alright?

I chuckled at the fast reply, no surprise Sana made him stay plus hours if he hung on his phone while on duty.

To Doyoung: Don’t worry, I’m feeling perfectly fine! I hope Sana pays you well if you stay after working hours!

From Doyoung: Don’t worry about that, she stays with me.

To Doyoung: Oh! Someone’s getting it!

I laughed as Doyoung started typing back, imagining his angry and flustered face.

From Doyoung: Don’t be silly, Y/N!

To Doyoung: Okay, bye!

I laughed as I walked to the bathroom, turning on the warm water to have a bath. After the long day I had today, I deserved a warm, relaxing bath. I got a message from Mark, a thumbs up, and I knew the memory card was in the mailbox, so I quickly jumped into some shoes and ran outside to retrieve it. I locked the front gate, Doyoung had keys too, and then hurried back inside the house. I placed the memory card on my desk and then proceeded to undress while walking back to the bathroom. I turned the faucet off and threw some bath salts into the water, pulling my hair in a high bun. I shut the blinds of the bathroom and sighed, biting my lower lip. Would it be so bad if I asked Mark to look up Wonwoo a little bit? I wouldn’t try to do anything, I just wanted to know him better? I wasn’t doing anything wrong, right? I picked up my phone reluctantly as I sat on the side of the bathtub, easing my legs into the water. I went to my gallery and to the pictures I deleted, they didn’t get instantly deleted from my phone, they were stored there for another month before finally getting deleted off the device. I selected the two pictures of Wonwoo and sent them to Mark.

To Mark: His name is Wonwoo. Remember that favor you have going on? Return it by looking this guy up.

I threw the phone onto the clothing pile that was on the ground by the bathtub and lowered myself into the water, feeling bad that I couldn’t resist the urge. It was too easy with Mark, when I was a teenager, I would do everything by myself. It was thrilling to run after someone, watch them from a distance not knowing if they would notice you or not. And if they indeed noticed you, you could always play it off somehow. But this was safer, I couldn’t risk falling back into my old habits. It was like gambling or drugs…you needed rehabilitation from it, but the yearning never really goes away. I hated myself for doing this, but without the medication I so refused to take, I wasn’t strong enough. I wouldn’t admit that to others or myself, living in a lie was always easier. But tonight, I would allow myself to live in a fantasy.

·       Name: Jeon Wonwoo

·       Birth date: 1996. 07.17.

·       Height: 1,82 m

·       Siblings: Kim Mingyu, apparently they are both adopted

·       Job: Chauffeur of a business man

·       Places he’s frequently seen at: National library, Sunday Gym, Red Corner bookstore, various parks around his neighborhood, hiking trails around the forest, Soul BBQ, Sky Blue headquarters

·       Car: red Mercedes CLS class

·       Additional things I found about him: It seems like he has thirteen close friends, he lives with his adopted brother; but I couldn’t find the address anywhere. Surveillance cameras say that he usually goes to read in the park, by the river, and he drinks a lot of coffee. I’m pretty sure he wears glasses, but there’s few pictures of him wearing it. I’m sorry, Y/N, for some reason this is everything I could find about him. He’s got a clean record, and even the little information I gave you I could barely find. Something’s fishy, but maybe he really isn’t that interesting. I wouldn’t bother with someone like him. P.S. Don’t tell anyone I helped you gain information on him, they’ll fire me!

       The birds chirping were the first thing I heard as I woke up, then the hurried knocks on my door. I groaned loudly, voice hoarse from having just woken up, and the knocking stopped.

“Get up, it’s almost 9 am!” Doyoung’s voice called from the other side of the door and I sighed, burying my head in my pillow, “I’m heading in to work later. I can drive you to wherever you want to go, if you want me to.”

That definitely got my attention as I raised my head, “Okay!”

I cleared my throat and jumped up into a seated position, looking around my bed. Printed pictures lingered scattered around the blanket and my laptop was on the verge of falling off, so I grabbed it and got out of bed. I walked to my desk and placed it on top of it, leaning against the edge of the glass. I looked down at the pictures that were on my bed and decided, that I would do this. I stayed up until late night to research myself as much as I could about Wonwoo, but he had no social media. I found a few yearbook photos of him, but they didn’t help with much. Mark was right, he seemed to be a very boring person…he almost felt like a ghost, like his real identity was buried deep down. And that was exciting, so, if Doyoung had already offered to give me a lift, I could just head to the Red Corner bookstore and check it out for myself. Hopefully, Wonwoo would be there. I still don’t know his schedule, but if I start lurking around the places Mark told me about, I can very easily follow Wonwoo around once he shows up.

After having breakfast with Doyoung, we both got dressed and I gave him instructions to the Red Corner bookstore and we were off, rolling down the busy streets of the city. My fingers were tapping against my knees in excitement as I tried to stay still, trying not to alert Doyoung that I was feeling excited about something. But he was my brother, and he noticed.

“I didn’t know going to a bookstore could make you excited.” He raised an eyebrow and I chuckled, shaking my head.

“It’s not that, I’m just in a good mood!” I tried to lie, but Doyoung just shook his head; I knew he didn’t believe me.

“So…now you suddenly like to read?” He asked with a teasing grin and I scoffed, turning to look at him.

“What do you mean?” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, “I always liked to read!”

“Fashion magazines, maybe.” I huffed and it made Doyoung laugh as he drove through an intersection. Once Doyoung was done laughing, he cleared his throat and briefly glanced at me.

“You wouldn’t be so excited about books unless you’re stalking someone.” I failed to pick up on the playfulness in his voice, the way he bit his lower lip to try and stay serious. My heart started suddenly beating really fast and my grip tightened around the seatbelt, my whole body became tense. How did he realize? Did he walk inside my room while I was sleeping? Was it something in my words that gave it away? Did I get worse at hiding my feelings? I could feel Doyoung’s gaze on me, but I couldn’t move out of fear. I was scared of what was coming next and ashamed. But then, Doyoung gasped and I had to look at him.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, panic lacing his words, and I became confused, “I didn’t mean to say that—I—I worded that so badly, Y/N—”

“Oh,” I chuckled, trying to collect myself, “No, it was a joke! I totally get it!”

I couldn’t believe I almost gave myself away. He had no idea; he was just teasing me! I chuckled again, feeling at ease as I turned to look at Doyoung again. “Seriously, I totally got your joke!”

“I’m still sorry—” My laughter interrupted Doyoung and he just shook his head, still looking guilty.

“I could become an actress if my reaction made you react like this.” But in truth, my reaction was genuine and I was so thankful that Doyoung didn’t realize that. He could read people very easily, but maybe as he was driving he couldn’t focus fully, which was great for me. Doyoung sighed and he pulled up to the sidewalk, looking at the Red Corner bookstore, which was just across the road. I smiled and unbuckled the seatbelt; I pressed a kiss against Doyoung’s cheek then got out. He offered me a small wave before driving away. I took a deep breath and smiled, looking around the street. It didn’t look like a very busy neighborhood; a few people were walking here and there. To my right there were many narrow alleys that lead to the main road, and I took off down the street. Why would Wonwoo come to a bookstore in this side of the city if he could go to the big one at the mall? Wonderingly, I crossed the street and carefully approached the bookstore. It wasn’t open yet, so I figured I could go to the coffee shop I saw while Doyoung drove us here. The bookstore would only open in half an hour, I still had time. I walked down the street with a skip in my steps, smiling widely. I had a feeling today was going to be a successful day, but for that I needed Mark to leave me alone. I was hoping he wouldn’t get a new case for at least a week, the potentiality of following Wonwoo around without him knowing had me in a very good mood. Sleeping on the choices I took yesterday definitely did well, I wasn’t feeling as bad about as I was yesterday. Yes, it was still wrong what I was doing, but as long as no one got harmed, it wasn’t something very bad!

I entered the coffee shop and walked to the front desk, ordering my usual drink of choice. When it was done, I walked to a table and took a seat, it was by the window, and took a sip of the Caramel Macchiato. I watched the people who passed by and took another sip, relaxing in the chair, feeling content. The melody playing in the shop was pleasant and I bobbed my head to the rhythm. The bell chimed and I watched the beautiful girl that walked in, her hair was dark brown and wavy. She had bangs and she was tall, definitely a beauty.

You could follow her too, she’s your type. If Wonwoo backfires, you have an alternative.

I almost laughed out loud at the words whispered to me by the dark voices, feeling truly entertained. It was so easy to find someone, like I said, it could be literally anyone. If I found them attractive, nothing was stopping me from stalking them. But I shook my head, took another sip of the drink, and ignored the voices. I wouldn’t let them take full control over me. And as the beautiful girl waited at the front desk, my back straightened as a very familiar red Mercedes came into view. It was Wonwoo’s car. My heart started thumping quickly and for a second I didn’t know what do to, so I relaxed into the seat, trying to stay low-key. The beautiful girl saw my sudden reaction and she looked at me concerned, but I just smiled at her, trying to show her that I was fine. When she turned her back on me, I grabbed my phone and quickly went to the camera, snapping a picture through the window. Wonwoo couldn’t be seen, all windows of the car were tinted, but he didn’t get out. I quickly locked my phone when I heard the heels of the girl getting closer as she walked by me and I waited patiently until she was out of the shop before I sprung onto my feet. My knees accidentally knocked into the table and it took the barista off guard, I hurriedly went up to her and handed back the now empty glass, thanking her for her services. She gave me a funny look but I ignored her as I almost ran out of the coffee shop.

“Bye!” I called to her with a wave before exiting, and stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. Wonwoo’s car was still there, but I didn’t know if he was in there or not, so walking up to it would have been too risky.

Oh, here comes the fun we’ve been all missing.

My whole body was shaking in excitement as I thought of my next move, deciding to walk by the bookstore. I could peek inside and see if Wonwoo was in there or not, the windows were big enough to see everything from the outside. So, I started moving, fingers tapping against my palm anxiously, heart thumping wildly. This was always exciting, but also nerve wrecking. I had to move without being seen…or recognized. But, I was sure Wonwoo had already forgotten my face, I was just an ordinary, clumsy girl who almost spilled her coffee on him.

No, the image of your face has been forever printed into his mind, Y/N. He’s watching you, just like you are watching him.

I stopped walking, the woman behind me almost ran into me as she was taken off by my sudden lack of movement. She gave me a glare, but I ignored her. I was right in front of the bookstore and my heart was beating even faster. What did the voices mean? Does Wonwoo know that I’m stalking him? That can’t possibly be true…why would he…

Are you the only person that stalks in this world?

I shook my head and closed my eyes for a second, trying to block the voices. The thought of that creeped me out and I didn’t want to think about being possibly stalked. Then I mustered the courage and looked inside, seeing two girls at the front desk. No trace of Wonwoo, however, as I looked around the place. Not wanting to draw too much attention to myself, I walked by and rounded the corner, leaning against the red cobblestone wall. Well, if Wonwoo wasn’t inside, he must still be in his car. Which is bad, because Doyoung drove me here. I didn’t think I’d have success on my first day of keeping my eyes on him, so I didn’t find coming with a car necessary. But now, I regretted my decision. With a sigh, I took my phone in my hand and was about to search for a cab, but then I heard laughter. Deep laughter. Coming from around the corner. My heart skipped a beat as I peeked around the corner, he was standing there. Wearing light blue jeans and a turtleneck, his dark hair in his eyes and round glasses sitting high up on the bridge of his nose. I quietly exhaled, taken by the sight in front of me. Wonwoo laughed again, his voice was still deep, his laughter was short but warm. The way his lips pulled up into a huge smile it melted away the cold expression I’ve seen him have in the pictures I found of him. His eyes didn’t look as menacing anymore. Not even realizing that I was doing it, I snapped a few pictures, hopeful that I caught his smiling face. But he was with the beautiful girl, and she was touching his arm. So then does Wonwoo have a girlfriend? And it’s the beautiful girl from the coffee shop? It isn’t impossible.

You could have both…or you could get rid of one…

“Shut up!” I hissed, and quickly ducked back behind the red cobblestone wall, scared that they heard me. They were a good distance away, and there was noise on the street, but I could never be too sure. I hated the dark voices, especially when they suggested getting rid of someone. I could never do it; I didn’t want to. I would go too low, I would disappoint Doyoung so much. If I killed someone, he’d be the one putting me behind bars. I didn’t want to see the pain on his face, pain I caused for him. I didn’t want him to suffer or worry for me anymore, he’s had enough of it while we were still young kids.

The slamming of the bookstore door snapped me out of my thoughts and nervously, I peeked around the corner again, seeing Wonwoo walking away. He was headed towards his car, so I didn’t bother following him at first, but when he went past it without getting in, I grinned. He wasn’t leaving just yet, that means I can follow him around! Fixing my hair and keeping my phone in my hand for comfort, I took off after Wonwoo, keeping a safe distance between us.

And I had a very successful day. Wonwoo stayed in the neighborhood for three hours, just walking around. I snapped plenty of pictures of him, ones I would have to copy on my laptop the second I got home and delete them off my phone. He did go and had breakfast at a tiny local restaurant, which had amazing food by the way. They had some traditional cake that I haven’t eaten before, and I made a mental note to return there from time to time. Maybe with Doyoung, he’s always had a sweet tooth. Then Wonwoo went for a short walk in the park, before he went back to the bookstore. He came out with a book and then went behind the bookstore, to a playground, sat underneath a big willow tree and read. For two hours, he didn’t move from there. His hair was moved by the breeze from time to time, his lips pursed sometimes, and eyebrows furrowed every once in a while. His glasses kept falling off and he had to push them up every five minutes. I’m assuming when something was interesting or tense, he’d bite his lip or thumb, eyes running over quickly the words on the white pages. I took a picture and I was able to see the title of the book, ‘I’ll be gone in the dark’. So, he was into crime books, I looked up and smiled in his direction. He just became more and more mysterious. I was aching to know who he truly was, what he truly liked, I was yearning to hear his beautiful laughter again. And as if Wonwoo finally noticed that someone was watching him, he looked up. And he looked at me. We made eye contact, my heart started beating like crazy, my hands shook.

What will you do now Y/N? Isn’t this just thrilling?

But suddenly a tap on my knee made me jump. I looked down confused and saw a little boy grinning up at me. My eyebrows rose as I watched him; he had his hands behind his back.

“Hello?” I asked confused, glancing around to see if he was with anyone. A couple elderly people were by the entrance of the playground, chatting. He was probably with one of them.

“Hi!” The boy said shyly and I offered him a warm smile.

“Can I help you? Are you lost?” I asked him, making sure that he wasn’t here alone.

“No.” He shook his head with a chuckle, then looked down. I chuckled and looked at him confused; he was shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“You’ve been sitting here for a long time,” He suddenly said as he looked back at me, “Aren’t you cold?”

I didn’t know how to answer him, he took me off guard. What was a little boy doing, talking to a stranger?

“My jacket is thick, I’m not cold—”

“Do you like that man?” When the little boy suddenly pointed at Wonwoo, my heart jumped into my throat. I was praying he wasn’t looking my way anymore, and thankfully; he wasn’t. Actually, he was gone. Disappointment settled in and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked around, trying to spot him.

“He’s gone.” I whispered, standing up abruptly. My legs were sore, my ass actually hurt. I should have moved around, not sat there unmoving for two hours straight.

“This is for you.” The little boy chuckled and I looked back down at him; he was holding a little white flower. I took it from him confused, but he just grinned at me and then ran off. What a strange encounter that was. But after that, I went back to the bookstore, and Wonwoo’s car was gone. He had left. That meant I was done for the day, he could’ve been anywhere, and I was actually really cold. So, I called a cab and went home, changed and then went for a long run. I needed to clear my mind, block the voices that were so violently trying to dictate me my next move. I wouldn’t let them rule over me, I was the one in charge of myself and my actions.

After I got home, I showered and cooked some dinner, then I sat in the living room with the TV on as I copied all the pictures I took of Wonwoo onto my laptop. My cheeks felt warm as I looked at them again. I printed two, one where Wonwoo was smiling and one while he was sitting underneath the tree. The breeze had picked up and his hair was blown all around, he was pushing up his glasses, his lips in a tight line. The pictured offered me calmness and as I was looking at it, the front door got unlocked. Franticly, I closed my laptop and threw the two pictures into the folder I was using to store everything I had on Wonwoo. Doyoung looked tired as he walked inside and I was standing very awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

“Hi!” I called out loudly and he looked up, taken aback by my presence there.

“Uh, hi.” He greeted back, giving me a questioning look but I just giggled.

“I cooked dinner!” I tried to diffuse the awkwardness and Doyoung started grinning.

“Thank God, I didn’t have lunch today, I’m starving!” He said as he pushed his shoes off.

“It’s important to have lunch.” I said as I walked to the fridge, taking out the food I had prepared.

“Yeah, but according to Sana, so is raiding the Sky-Blue headquarters.” Doyoung said defeated and my eyebrows furrowed. Where have I heard that name before?

“Why? What’s there?” I asked curiously as Doyoung took off towards his room.

“The mafia Sana is sniffing around.” And with that he went inside his room to change and come to have dinner. But the report from Mark said that Wonwoo frequents that place often. Why? Does he maybe know there’s a mafia inside there? Or is he oblivious to it?

And you thought he was boring? Aren’t things getting more and more interesting?

“How was your day?” I slammed the plates on the table and it made Doyoung wince. I gave him an apologetic grin as I placed two forks and some napkins too next to the plates.

“Uneventful,” I said with a sigh, going to the living room to grab my stuff, “I’ll be right back, I’ll just put these in my room.”

Doyoung hummed as he took a seat at the table, placing food on his plate. I hurried to my room, clutching the file tightly to make sure it wouldn’t open and free its contents onto the floor as I carried the laptop in my other hand. I entered my room and went towards my desk, placing my laptop on top of it. The file I placed on a shelf of my bookcase and as I was about to leave I noticed how the temperature was a bit colder than in the other rooms. Looking around, I noticed my window was slightly open and with a sigh, I went and closed it and locked it. It wasn’t unlike me to forget to close it back if I happened to open it up. And just as I turned around to leave the room for good, my eyes stopped on my nightstand. Five white lilies were placed in a tall glass with water. I remained rooted to the spot, warmness spreading in my chest. It’s been long since I got flowers from someone. How did Doyoung get these in here without me noticing the flowers when he got inside the house? I chuckled and shook my head as I went to have dinner, stomach churning loudly. It felt nice to get flowers. Even if they were from my brother.

           I should have taken Mark’s offer and went on that vacation he proposed, but my mind wouldn’t let me do that. I had a new mission, and it was following Wonwoo around. For a whole week I was vigilant enough that he didn’t notice me and now I knew his habits. In the mornings, he’d take that beautiful girl to the bookstore and then go buy himself coffee. Sometimes he’d go back to that park and read for a few hours, other times he’d leave and go to the gym. He would spend a lot of time at the Sky-Blue headquarters and drive his boss to less or more sketchy places. His boss was Kim Mingyu, it crossed my mind to research him too and follow him around for a day or two, but he was giving me bad vibes. When I trailed after Wonwoo’s car when he was with Mingyu, I felt like the two knew I was there. Sometimes, they’d drive around in the same neighborhood twice and I would have to take different turns in order to make it seem like I wasn’t following them…but it almost always led me to lose them. After Wonwoo was done with his work, he’d go to the national library and spend hours there, so much, that I was starting to worry that he’d fall ill from not eating and drinking enough. In fact, he barely ate anything all day, maybe he did it somehow when I wasn’t watching, otherwise I can’t explain how he remained energetic and standing for the whole day. On the third day of watching him, I decided to enter the library myself and try and find a book that I would enjoy. He switched from the book he was reading to a different one, in fact, every day he read something different. It was confusing, and I was dying to ask him why…but the right moment hadn’t come for it yet. One day, I got so immersed in my own book that I totally forgot about keeping my eyes on Wonwoo too and when I looked up from my book, Wonwoo was gone from his usual spot. I looked around a little too frantically, my knees bouncing fast. I waited for two more minutes before I sprung up onto my feet and took off towards the section I took the book I was reading from. I heard hushed laughter coming from nearby but I was busy trying push the book back in its place, so busy, that I totally missed the deep tone of the laughter. When I finally had the book in its original place, I turned and took off pretty much running, which led me into stumbling forward as my shoes got caught in the carpet. I gasped and ran into the bookshelves in front of me, barely catching myself from falling.

“Are you alright?” A feminine voice asked, and as I turned to answer them, my heart stopped beating. The woman was standing next to Wonwoo and they were both looking at me confused and concerned. I gulped and suddenly my throat was dry as my eyes jumped from the woman to Wonwoo and then back at the woman and then again to Wonwoo. I was waiting for him to point at me and yell that I’m a psycho stalker, but he just looked confused and I quietly sighed.

“Yeah, sorry!” I said awkwardly and bowed my head quickly before turning around and running away embarrassed. It was good that Wonwoo had no recollection of my face, it means that he didn’t pay much attention to me at the Coffee Shop and he also didn’t know that I was pretty much stalking him. As much as stalking Wonwoo made my week better and definitely uplifted my mood, the highlight of my week were the daily white lilies I was finding in my room each evening. I didn’t know how Doyoung was doing it, I could swear I saw him enter empty handed each evening, but maybe he was turning into a magician and was trying his tricks out on me. I didn’t say anything to him, wanting to act oblivious to his nice act if he wouldn’t say something first. But I had my concerns regarding Wonwoo and the relationship between him and the beautiful girl from the bookstore. She worked there and seeing them each morning together gave me the impression that they were on really good terms…possibly even dating, even though I’ve only seen them hugging. So, for that, to check it myself, I had a plan. I bought a copy of the book I saw Wonwoo reading in the park and one morning, on a Tuesday when I knew Wonwoo wouldn’t be the one giving a lift to the beautiful girl, I headed inside the bookstore.

The bell chimed loudly and it was warm inside. The radio was playing through the speakers at a low volume and the girl I was here for was at the front desk. My eyes fell on her and I noticed how she hasn’t had curly hair ever since that day I saw her in the Coffee Shop. She was concentrated on her phone, smiling as she typed quickly. I cleared my throat and walked up to the front desk, leaning against it. It took her a second to realize that someone was standing there, looking at her.

“Oh, hi!” She had a powerful voice; it didn’t take one long to realize she was a confident person. I smiled at her kindly and tapped my fingers against the counter.

“Hi…” I looked around quickly, feigning nervousness, “I’m sorry to bother you here…”

Then I looked at her name tag and read her name, “Hyemi, pretty name! Anyways…uhm, this book…”

I grabbed it out of my bag and placed it on top of the counter, “Wonwoo borrowed it to me and well…I’ve had it for too long and I want to return it.”

“Oh, you know Wonwoo?” Hyemi’s eyebrows rose as she took the book from me and looked at it, “I’ve seen this one laying around in his house.”

Oh, so she knows where Wonwoo lives. And she was there too. You knew this was coming, Y/N, but are you ready to face the consequences? What if you have to give up both? You can always get rid of one of them…you know it’s not hard…

“I’ve met him at the library, sometimes we talk,” I said with a shrug and took the book back from Hyemi, “he recommended it to me.”

I was hoping she didn’t see the tightness of my jaw as I tried to ignore the evil voices. They were urging me to grab the girl by the hair and drag her away. I couldn’t do that; I wasn’t like that anymore. And nothing was sure yet. They can be friends; friends hang out together in their apartments all the time. I can’t jump to conclusions just yet. And I’ve never seen Wonwoo spend time with her except for when he drops Hyemi off in the mornings.

“He really likes doing that!” Hyemi said with a roll of her eyes and I chuckled, putting the book away.

“He does, but it’s fine, I don’t mind.” She hummed and we looked behind her when there was a click. Another breathtakingly beautiful woman walked into the room and I couldn’t help but gape at her. Her lips were red and her long brown hair was in a low ponytail, eyeliner on her eyelids. She looked amazing, I cleared my throat and quickly read her name tag. Irene.

“Everything alright?” She asked with authority in her voice and I found myself nodding very quickly, but Hyemi just chuckled.

“Yes, I was just talking to—” Then both women looked at me and I was lost for a second, feeling flustered. My fingers tapped against the counter quickly and I realized they were waiting for me to tell them my name.

“Y/N!” I exclaimed and my cheeks became warm, “Uhm, my name is Y/N.”

“Wonwoo borrowed Y/N a book and she wants to return it.” Hyemi said with a smile and Irene hummed, looking me over quickly. Then she offered me a small smile and her stern expression melted away. It eased my nerves a little and I offered her a similar smile.

“Right, so…could you give me his address?” I asked, very innocently, as I looked Hyemi in the eyes. She knows where Wonwoo lives, I’m a little bothered by that but at least now I’ll find out his address too. But her eyebrows furrowed and she looked at me apologetically.

“Sorry, I don’t think I should just tell you that…without Wonwoo’s consent at least—”

“Oh, right!” I exclaimed and looked down embarrassed, “That was really…a dumb request, don’t worry! I totally get it!”

“Not to be mean—”

“No! It’s fine, you’re right!” I waved my hands in the air and Irene chuckled as she watched the exchange between us. I took a step back and played with my fingers as I tried to keep on an embarrassed expression.

“I’ll give it back to him when I meet him at the library.”

“Are you sure? You could give it to me and I’ll—”

“I’m sure.” I interrupted Hyemi and walked backwards towards the door, “Have a nice day, ladies!”

“You too!” Irene called out as Hyemi’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit.

“Bye.” She muttered as I hurried out the door, heart beating fast. What if she realized I was lying? Now all I could hope for was that she wouldn’t tell Wonwoo and throw me off from the progress I’ve been making.

And that day when I arrived home, I found more white lilies sitting on the little table that we had on the front porch. I took them and inhaled their scent, a smile appearing on my lips. And as a breeze passed by, I felt eyes on me. So, I straightened up and looked around, but the fence was high enough that no one would see inside, so I shook the feeling off and unlocked the front door, walking inside the house and headed to the kitchen to take a vase for the new lilies.

           A few days passed since I’ve been to the bookstore and I had realized that I needed a different approach. Yesterday, Hyemi and Wonwoo didn’t show up to the bookstore and as I went on with my day, I found Wonwoo nowhere he’d usually be at. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, so, I figured they must have taken a day off. But that thought didn’t sit well with me, so, I decided that it was time I took serious actions. A more straightforward approach. One that would set off the start of something between Wonwoo and I.

I woke up a little earlier than I usually would to be able to get ready. We had only one bathroom, and for once, I put a little effort into my appearance. I usually didn’t doll myself up, but today I wanted to look pretty. So, I put on minimal makeup and decided to be a bit bold and use red lipstick too. I pulled my hair out of my face and clipped the front strands back and then I cooked breakfast for Doyoung and I, wanting to surprise him. He was always the one that got up early and made sure we ate well, but I felt like returning this little favor to him since he’s been bringing me white lilies for almost two weeks now. I even turned his morning alarm off, wanting to give him a little extra time to sleep, which was always welcomed as he worked late and had to wake up really early. After breakfast was ready, I went back to my room to get dressed and spent at least ten minutes thinking of an outfit. In the end, I settled on high waist mom jeans and a long-sleeved colorful crop top as yesterday it was rather warm. Then, I grabbed my bag and went to Doyoung’s room to wake him up. He was in a good mood once I told him I cooked breakfast and that I let him sleep in, his laughter echoed in the house as he told me a funny story that happened at work. Breakfast was pleasant and tasty and once we were done, I didn’t wait for Doyoung, I headed out. I told him that I found a new path in the forest that lead to a beautiful clearing with a spring and that I wanted to take pictures while the sun wasn’t high up in the sky, which unfortunately was a lie. I did find a place like that, but it was last month and I had already taken plenty of pictures of it. But Doyoung didn’t have to know that I was back to stalking again, especially not today, when I was so excited about my plan. Before going to the library, I grabbed a cup of coffee, Americano this time as I didn’t have in mind drinking it and it would’ve been a waste to buy Caramel Macchiato. By the time I got to the library it was nearing noon and I was hopeful that wherever Wonwoo went, he’d be back by today, otherwise, I did all of this for nothing. When I entered, the librarian gave me a glance and her eyebrows furrowed as they fell on my coffee, but I hid it behind my back and offered her a warm smile. She shook her head but didn’t say anything and I bowed my head, hurrying further inside. The coffee wasn’t hot anymore, but it was still warm, at least it wouldn’t burn him. I cleared my throat and took in a deep breath, about to round the corner and head to the reading area. My heart was pounding quickly in my chest and I feared that others would be able to hear it in the calming silence of the library. But as I rounded the corner, my mind went blank.

There he is.

I could feel excitement enter my whole body and my fingers started tapping quickly against the cup of coffee I was holding, I had to force myself to stay as still as I could and not take off towards Wonwoo. He was sitting at his usual spot, in the middle of the area and at the edge of the table. He had a book on the table in front of him, his glasses were close to falling off and his black hair was a bit messy. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a silver necklace hung around his neck. My eyes got glued to his muscly arms as he flipped the page and I gulped, trying to focus on my plan once again.

He is a sight for sore eyes, isn’t he, Y/N? No surprise you can’t handle the thought of someone else having him.

I shook my head a little and then started walking. My heels clicked against the wooden floor, but it was a dull sound, and thankfully Wonwoo didn’t look up. His eyebrows were furrowed as his eyes ran over the words in the book, and he sighed loudly as I got closer and closer. I glanced around, but there weren’t many people, and those who were, they were too busy studying or reading. Knowing that no one was looking my way, I knew what I was about to do wouldn’t look suspicious to anyone. I was two tables away from Wonwoo, and as I was watching him so closely, I noticed the sudden tensity of his muscles. How his palms clenched into fists and it almost looked like he was reading the same thing over and over, but I wouldn’t be actually able to tell that. My plan was to accidentally run into the corner of the table he was sitting at and spill the coffee on him. Like that, I had an excuse to talk to him and hopefully he’d even agree to me buying him a new shirt. I wasn’t able to decipher his personality as he was mostly by himself, but I prayed to every God out there that he’d comply to my wishes. And just as my eyes fixated on the corner of the table, to make sure that the front of my shoe would get stuck in it, Wonwoo abruptly stood up. And I jumped and panicked. The sound his chair made was loud and I lost all train of thought as his eyes fell on me and the heel of my shoe got stuck in the edge of the carpet. And suddenly, I was falling forward, eyes widened in horror. Wonwoo didn’t even blink, he just stood there, looking almost taken aback. And then our bodies collided into each other, and I felt the warm coffee spill not just on his chest, but on my own too. I gasped loudly, Wonwoo remained silent and suddenly I felt the eyes of the people who were around us, on us. Wonwoo was tense as he quickly gripped my forearms to steady me, the empty cup of coffee fell against the ground and I felt like it made the loudest sound I have ever heard. But in reality, it barely even made a thudding sound. My eyes remained wide, heart beating fast as I remained rooted in Wonwoo’s arms.

He smells so good. And his body is so firm. Do you hear how loud his breathing is, Y/N?

The evil voice made me shiver and I sprung out of Wonwoo’s hold, looking at him wide eyed. He looked frozen for a second, but then he lowered his arms, and gulped, glancing down at his damp t-shirt.

“Oh my God,” I muttered, looking down at my own damp shirt, this didn’t go as planned, he was the only one supposed to get coffee spilled on, “I am so sorry!”

My voice was quiet as I tried not to disturb the other people in there and Wonwoo finally looked at me. His sharp eyes offered no warmness and suddenly I felt small under his intense gaze. I felt embarrassed and as if I was caught in the act, but it’s him who stood up. This was supposed to happen differently.

“At least it wasn’t burning hot.” Wonwoo’s deep voice reached my ears and I did everything I could to memorize the deep vibration of it.

“Yeah, I got it a while ago…” I mumbled and looked down embarrassed, unable to maintain his intense eye contact.

“Accidents happen,” I could see him shrug as he ran his hands down his abdomen, “And it’s my fault, I was the one who stood up so abruptly—”

“Oh, no—” I looked up and shook my hands quickly, “I shouldn’t have walked so close to the table, it’s really my fault—”

“Don’t worry about it,” His lips pulled into a small smirk and I knew I was going to blush, “I’m not mad at you.”

My cheeks were hot and I felt at a loss of words all of a sudden, almost forgetting why I even planned on doing this.

“I feel guilty though—” I managed to get out, trying to avoid looking at his lips, “Let me make up for it!”

Someone towards the back of the reading area cleared their throat and I realized I was starting to speak too loudly; my leg was tapping against the wooden floor anxiously. I wanted to insist, but I didn’t know what to say next. I needed Wonwoo to co-operate, but I wasn’t sure he would just yet. His expression didn’t give away anything and I bit my lower lip nervously.

“How can you make up for it?” His eyebrows rose and my heart jumped in my chest.

“Uhm, I—I can just, uh—buy you a new shirt?” I hated myself for stuttering, but this was more nerve wrecking than I remembered it being. Has it been really that long since I’ve done this?

“I have plenty of shirts…” Wonwoo’s deep voice made me look back at him and I tried to stay calm. I couldn’t decipher his expression, but he looked like he was teasing me. I smiled softly and played with my fingers, glancing away from him before looking back.

“The mall is literally across the road…and…if you let me buy you this shirt, you’ll never forget that a stranger spilled their coffee on you on a very nice Wednesday…” Suddenly, all tension left my body when a wide smile appeared on Wonwoo’s lips. For the first time, I noticed how his nose scrunched up when he smiled, and how soft he seemed like this. When Wonwoo smiled, he wasn’t intimidating anymore, it was as if I was looking at a different person. My heart started beating quickly again and I felt at peace as I gaped at him, hopeful that he didn’t find it creepy. If only he knew…

“You might need a new shirt as well…” Wonwoo said once he was done laughing and I looked down at my shirt, eyebrows furrowing. Well yeah…that wasn’t part of the plan.

“If you insist.” I said with a shrug and Wonwoo chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’ll put this book back and then we can go.” Wonwoo said as he closed the book he was reading and picked it up from the table. He gave me a glance before he turned and walked towards the tall bookshelves, disappearing between them. I bit my lower lip, trying to contain my victorious smirk in case Wonwoo returned. I remembered the abandoned cup and turned around to pick it up, chuckling to myself. My plan didn’t work, but worked at the same time. It played out a little different than what I had in mind, but in the end, I still got what I wanted.

“Let’s go?” I turned my head and Wonwoo was by my side, eyebrows raised as his eyes fell on the empty cup. I nodded my head and we took off towards the mall from across the road, about to buy some new shirts.

Once we got to the mall I made Wonwoo choose a shop he likes and I’d buy him a t-shirt from there, only if he likes it, of course. In the end, he lead us to the cheapest shop and said that I should choose something for myself as well and he’ll buy it, because it was his fault too that the coffee was spilled as he got in my way. When he pointed towards the shop and said that he wanted to choose from that one, I gave him a look.

“Are you sure?” I asked as I followed after him, “Because I might look poor, but I’m not. So, if you want to wear something fancy, I totally can get it for you—”

“I don’t need anything fancy.” Wonwoo interrupted with a chuckle and I shrugged, walking inside the shop.

“Well, good for you then.” I muttered, looking around. To the left was the men section and to the right the women section, I pointed towards the men section, “Let’s go.”

Without thinking, I grabbed his wrist and noticed how warm his skin was against mine. I didn’t realize it was inappropriate to hold someone you just met, let alone drag him after you. But I was too happy that my plan actually worked out and that he didn’t recognize me at all. Even though he’s seen me twice before.

What if you aren’t remarkable enough? You could get Hyemi instead of Wonwoo, since he doesn’t even remember your face.

I shook my head and stopped in front of racks of various colored t-shirt and simple shirts, “Well, choose one!”

Wonwoo came to stand next to me and his eyebrows furrowed a little bit as he started moving the racks with his left hand. My right leg was tapping against the ground as I looked at his profile. His jaw was sharp and lips jutting out as he tried to choose one. Suddenly, I became aware of the hold I had on his wrist still and released it, clearing my throat awkwardly. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and looked ahead when Wonwoo glanced at me. I could feel my cheeks burning in embarrassment, but from the corner of my eyes I could see him smirking. It made my leg tap faster against the floor and I wished that something would happen that would save me from the embarrassment I was currently feeling.

“This one will do.” He suddenly spoke up, as if he could read my thoughts, and I turned to look at him. He was holding an almost identic t-shirt to the one he was wearing, except this one had longer sleeves. My eyes lingered on it before I gave him an affirming nod, and Wonwoo smiled.

“Your turn.” This time, he grabbed my wrist and started pulling me towards the women section. My heart suddenly picked up its pace and my free hand turned into a fist as I tried to contain my wide grin once again. His grip felt like it was on fire and burned away on my skin, but I was enjoying it, it was a nice feeling. He released me though the second we got to the shirts and I didn’t even look, just picked up a brown see through shirt.

“This one!” I exclaimed and grinned at Wonwoo, holding up the shirt. His eyes fell on it and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you sure?” He asked and I could almost hear a certain discomfort in his tone, but I thought I was just making things up. So, I just nodded my head with a wide smile and Wonwoo sighed, pointing towards the changing rooms.

“Let’s change then.”

“Shouldn’t we pay first?” I asked surprised as Wonwoo took off.

“No, take the tag off, we can still pay.” My eyebrows furrowed at Wonwoo’s words but I didn’t say anything as I went inside a cabin and quickly changed into the shirt I picked. Once I was dressed, I gulped. Well, I certainly should have looked first at what I was picking out, you could see my black bra through the material. And it was a bit too thin for this weather, but if we stayed inside the mall for longer I wouldn’t be bothered. And my car was around the corner, hopefully I wouldn’t catch a cold. I pulled the curtain back and my eyes fell on Wonwoo who was leaning against the wall casually. He was wearing black jeans and black combat boots. The t-shirt he picked was tight around his chest and I couldn’t look away. It was a mouthwatering sight and I gulped, snapping out of it. But the silence stretched on for longer as Wonwoo continued looking at me with an unreadable expression, jaw just a little tight. He kept his eyes on my face, but I didn’t miss the split second they lowered towards my see-through shirt. It made me fidget as I cleared my throat.

“Let’s—let’s pay!” I quickly hurried past Wonwoo, feeling embarrassed for the nth time today. I could hear a deep chuckle behind me, but I ignored it and approached the front desk.

“Hi, we bought these two shirts we are wearing, the tags are here—” I started speaking as I placed the tags on the counter.

“I’m sorry Miss, that’s against the rules.” The cashier very rudely interrupted and gave me a glare.

“Uhm…we still intend to pay though…”

“It’s still against the rules to do that, I have to call security—”

“Maybe you should just scan the tags and proceed on with your life, Kelly.” Wonwoo’s deep voice boomed next to me and I looked at him, his jaw was clenched and he was glaring at the cashier, whose name was Kelly. She seemed to shrink a little under Wonwoo’s gaze and she hesitated for a second, but then scanned in the tags.

“We are paying separately.” Wonwoo proceeded to say when he saw that she put the shirts on the same bill and Kelly apologized quickly. I looked at Wonwoo, eyebrows furrowed at the sudden change in his attitude. He looked stern and demanding, I probably would’ve done instantly what he told me, if he looked at me like that. This is how I imagined Wonwoo’s personality to be like, yet it didn’t sit well with me. Something felt off about his attitude, this wasn’t the first time he was being like this. And it was very obvious that he knew what effect it would have on the one targeted.

“Here.” The girl muttered once she handed Wonwoo the change back and then it was my turn to pay, which went by quickly as both of us were trying to move quickly under Wonwoo’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Uh, bye!” I called out as Wonwoo and I walked out with a bag each and our stained shirts inside them. I stopped walking once we were out of the shop and Wonwoo stopped too, looking back at me confused.

“Something wrong?” He asked confused and I shook my head.

“Not at all…I’m just glad we are even now…” I shrugged and he nodded with a hum, looking around. I tried to shrug off the sudden uncertainty I was feeling. Wonwoo didn’t seem as safe anymore as I had imagined him to be.

“Do you want to grab some lunch?” My heart jumped into my throat instantly and my mind went blank. How do I answer that question? That was definitely not what I had planned, but it was turning even better. But I couldn’t, I felt like it would be too much. Yes, I wanted to get to know him, but I already felt like an intruder. This happened only because of me, I didn’t want Wonwoo to feel like he had to do this. And I wanted to sort out my thought first and analyze our interaction.

“I would love to, but I have to help out my brother.” I lied through my teeth, with a smile on my face.

“Ah…” He nodded and neared me, I felt small under his strong gaze. It looked like he was looking right into my soul, reading my mind. It gave me the impression that he knew I was lying, “You don’t have to feel guilty for spilling the coffee on me, I told you, accidents happen.”

“I know!” I laughed nervously, my leg tapping against the ground once again, “I feel like I should wash that t-shirt…to actually stop feeling guilty…”

And that was the second stage of my plan. Get him to give me his t-shirt so that I can wash it, that way I get his phone number and I have an excuse to meet up with him again. Wonwoo’s eyebrows rose at my words and he chuckled, reaching inside his bag for without saying anything.

“Here.” He said and handed me his stained t-shirt.

“Really?” I asked gaping and he chuckled as I took it from him, “I thought you’d be against it…”

“I’m not,” He said with a casual shrug and then fished his phone out of his pocket, “I’ll need your number in order to get back my t-shirt…unless you’re a t-shirt thief.”

I started laughing as I took his unlocked phone and typed in my phone number, trying to hide the tremble of my fingers, “Shhh, no one knows.”

I winked as I handed him back his phone with my number saved and Wonwoo chuckled, ringing me. That way I had his number too, which I would save the second I got to my car. And then, he took another step and I was taken aback by the closeness between us.

“Tell me…” He muttered, his voice deep and I gulped nervously, “Have we met before?”

He knows, Y/N.

I froze up for a second, looking at him with my jaw having fallen open, “What? I—I don’t think—where—You know, maybe at the library—No! We have never met before!”

I knew I fucked up with my stuttering and the way Wonwoo suddenly started smirking like he was proud of himself for making me react like that. Maybe he really does know and the voices aren’t wrong.

“You go to the library often?”

“Lately, yeah.” I cleared my throat and stepped back, acting like I was looking at the shop behind Wonwoo.

“I see.” He nodded and then stepped back too, holding his hand out, “We haven’t introduced ourselves, I’m Wonwoo.”

My eyebrows rose as I realized we really didn’t, even though I already knew his name. Thank God it didn’t slip from my lips, that would’ve been really bad.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you!” I smiled at him widely and shook his head excited, trying to ignore how hot his hand was once again. His grip was firm and I decided to ignore how our hands touched for a little bit longer than they were supposed to.

“Nice to meet you too.” Wonwoo chuckled and we let go of each other’s hands finally.

“I have to go now…” I pointed behind me and Wonwoo gave me a nod and a small wave, “Bye!”

“See you soon, Y/N.” I shivered at how low his tone got and quickly hurried away, feeling embarrassed, excited, nervous and confused by the vibes he was giving me. Why is it that I feel like there’s something going on with him?

           I was eager to get home after the day I had, ready to get lost in my thoughts and analyze every little detail about the exchange between Wonwoo and I. I even considered texting him, but I didn’t want to come off as creepy, or give him the wrong impression. If I wanted things to work out, I had to be smooth and careful about everything I said and did. As I parked my car in its usual place, I noticed how the lights were on inside the house and realized Doyoung was already home. Doyoung was home early! I quickly got out of the car and locked it, almost running to get inside the house faster. It was rare that Doyoung was home before nightfall and I missed spending time with him and going out with him. We haven’t gone on a run together in a long time and I was hoping that Doyoung was up to it. I knocked on the front door first to let Doyoung know that it was me, and then pushed the door open and walked inside.

“Doyoung!” I shrieked, seeing that he wasn’t in the living room nor kitchen, “Hi!”

Doyoung didn’t answer right away and as I closed the door behind me and locked it, I heard the water running in the bathroom. Doyoung was washing up, so I walked to my room and changed out of my clothes and wore something comfortable. I quickly removed my makeup and sighed as I pulled my hair in a low bun, feeling at ease once again. I opened my window to let in some fresh air and as I was about to walk away, I noticed the white lilies on the windowsill. I chuckled at Doyoung’s creativeness and picked them up, taking them inside with me. It was smart of him, to be honest. He parked his car behind the backyard, where the wall of my bedroom was too. So, in order to get to the front of the house he’d have to pass by my windows and that would explain how he was able to sneak in the flowers inside my room without me seeing them. But as I held the lilies, I realized that there were ten pieces this time and I bit my lower lip as a wide smile spread onto my lips. I glanced at the bag that contained the shirts that got coffee spilled on them and I walked up to it, grabbing Wonwoo’s t-shirt. I took it in my hands and, having placed the lilies on my bed, and felt the soft fabric of the black t-shirt. It was bigger than my own torso as I held it against my frame and chuckled as I walked towards my mirror. So that’s what I would look like wearing Wonwoo’s shirts.

You look lovely, Y/N, we bet Wonwoo can’t wait to see you like this. If you proceed carefully, he’ll be yours in a blink of an eye.

I chuckled, letting the image the voices created linger in my mind. I brought the t-shirt up against my nose and reveled in Wonwoo’s cologne. It was masculine and it carried a musky scent and something that I have only felt on Doyoung, the smell of gunpowder. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at the t-shirt, lowering it back inside the bag. Why would Wonwoo’s t-shirt smell like gunpowder? Does he go to the shooting ranges? Is it a hobby of his? No, if it was, I would’ve known already. But before I could dwell on it longer, the bathroom door closed and I jumped, taking the white lilies as I left my room.

“Y/N, are you home—”

“Doyoung!” I exclaimed and threw my arms around my brother, giving him a back hug. Doyoung chuckled and tapped my arms, softly peeling them off himself.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be home so early!” I said as I walked around him, wandering if we had any free vases for the lilies.

“I wasn’t either…” Doyoung muttered and I heard him sigh as I opened some cabinets until I found a blue vase. I smiled in victory and filled it with water, placing the lilies inside before putting the vase in the middle of the dining table. Doyoung was lounging on the couch with a frown on his face and as I looked at him, about to rant about my day, I realized something was wrong. He looked drained; his eyes even looked red.

“Doyoung…” I muttered with a frown and approached him slowly, arms hugging around my torso, “Are you okay?”

He looked up at me and tried to put on a smile, “Yeah! I’m fine—”

But his voice broke a little and I quickly sat next to him, throwing my arms around him as I pulled him into a tight hug.

“Hey, talk to me.” I whispered as I rubbed his back reassuringly. His arms went around me and he sighed loudly, sniffing.

“Well…I was sent home early because the higher ups are in meetings…” He sighed again and I just hummed as I waited patiently for him to continue.

“Sana was found dead this morning—” His voice broke again and I froze. Doyoung’s boss was dead? Who could have done such thing? And why?

“Oh, Doyoung, I’m so sorry…” I whispered, tightening my hold around him. He nodded his head and then rested his cheek against my shoulder. We remained silent as I tried offering comfort to my brother, knowing how much Sana’s death affected him. Not many liked Sana, sometimes even Doyoung hated her, but they spent a lot of time together. And inevitably they bonded, she still meant something to him.

“She was shot in the head once, it killed her instantly—” I wanted to tell him to stop thinking about it, to not tell me anything about her death, but he had to get it off his chest. And I was there to listen, I would always be there for Doyoung, no matter what he needed.

“There were signs of other altercations before her death…” Then he stopped for a second and scoffed, “She attacked a girl, Y/N, a simple, innocent, girl. She just—broke inside her apartment, trashed it and—and tried killing her? I don’t understand—”

“People do all sorts of things,” I interrupted Doyoung’s rambling, “You can never truly know what a person is capable of until it’s done.”

Doyoung sniffed again and then gently pulled back, rubbing his eyes. I let my hands rest in my lap as I watched my brother trying to pull himself together.

“She did it because of a guy—I don’t understand. She was obsessed with this—Kim Mingyu and she attacked Hyemi for being with him, I—” Doyoung shrugged and fell back against the couch, looking up at the white ceiling. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched my brother. Kim Mingyu? It’s the guy Wonwoo works for. Wait…does Wonwoo know anything about this? Why was he missing yesterday? Hyemi…it can’t be the girl from the bookstore, right?

“Is Hyemi alright?” I found myself asking quietly and Doyoung hummed.

“Her friends found her just in time, before she could get hurt seriously. But Sana…”

“She got what she deserved.” I couldn’t hold my words back and Doyoung’s head snapped in my direction, “She tried to kill Hyemi, Doyoung. And she was a cop. Attacked a simple civilian. I understand your pain and struggle but—”

“I know,” Doyoung offered me a reassuring smile and patted my hand, “but it’s very stressful. They want me to replace Sana.”

My eyes widened as I sat up straighter, “Wait…you’ll become head of police then…?”

Doyoung’s lips formed a thin line and he sighed, looking away from me, “I guess Kim Mingyu really does achieve whatever he wants…”

“Kim Mingyu?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Doyoung once again confused hearing his name, “What does he have to do with this?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about that.” Doyoung quickly said and ran his fingers through his damp hair, “I just wanted to be the first one to tell you all of this, and not Mark.”

Before I could press more about who Kim Mingyu was, I froze and looked at Doyoung surprised, “Mark?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung gave me a small glare and it seemed like he was quick to repress the feelings towards Sana’s death, “I know about what you do with Mark.”

“I don’t do anything,” I shrugged defensively, “I don’t even know who that is!”

Doyoung scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Please, you think people didn’t notice Mark’s sudden success this year? Everyone knew he was close to getting fired, until he suddenly turned into this super detective he never was—”

“And how is that my fault?!” I exclaimed, unable to keep it inside anymore. My legs were bouncing quickly and I gave Doyoung a glare, “I wanted to help. I wanted to do something else besides running my blog and taking pictures of nature, alright? This is fun and exciting—”

“And fucking dangerous, Y/N!” Doyoung exclaimed, standing up as his eyebrows furrowed, “Do you have any idea who you even follow around? Gang leaders, mafia heads, powerful business men! These people are shady! If you were ever caught, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything—”

“I know!” I exclaimed and stood up too, feeling desperate for Doyoung to understand me, “But this helped! It really did, Mark offered me an escape, Doyoung. An escape from falling back into my old habits and stalking people. Ever since I started doing this, I—I had no tendencies to stalk others—” Besides the sudden infatuation I had with Wonwoo, but it would pass. I hoped that it would. I wanted Doyoung to be proud of me.

“You just need a good therapist, Y/N—” Doyoung’s words were triggering as my parents would say this often to me and I couldn’t control myself, I shoved him back. He stumbled a bit, taken aback by my sudden outburst. Until he realized what he said, and he turned pale.

“Thanks a lot, big brother.” I snapped and turned around, storming towards my room, “You know therapists did shit and never helped me! The medication only made feel worse after a while!”

“I didn’t mean to say that, I’m sorry—” Doyoung tried to apologize as he followed after me.

“Save it, okay?!” I entered my room and blocked Doyoung from coming inside, “I—I know I’m a burden to you. I hate being a burden. But I can’t live on my own, and I hate that. I want to offer you a normal life, but instead, I’m just hanging on your neck—and I don’t need you to remind me that!”

“That’s not true!” Doyoung looked offended by my words as his eyebrows furrowed, “You were never a burden to me. I love you and I want you with me, Y/N—”

I raised my palm to stop him from talking, “Stop, I don’t care. Thankfully, helping Mark out pays well and I’m close to having enough money to move out. Give me three more months, and I’ll be gone.”

“What?!” Doyoung’s face fell and he went to grab me, but I slammed the door shut quickly, “I don’t want you to leave! We moved in here together because we both wanted to! You can’t just leave—”

“Watch me!” I screamed and I heard Doyoung sigh loudly as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. This wasn’t the time to act childish nor to drop something like that on him, not when his boss just died and he was in grief. But I couldn’t help it, he pissed me off. He would never understand what I had to go through daily and therefore he had no rights to try and tell me what to do. What Mark offered me was a life saver and Doyoung would never understand how much it helped, right up until I met Wonwoo.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” Doyoung said loudly and knocked on my door, but I quickly locked it. I knew he was sorry and he didn’t want to hurt me, but I needed time to get over his words. By tomorrow morning I would be fine, but I needed to be left alone tonight.

“Whatever!” I called out and rolled my eyes, “Don’t bring me any white lilies anymore!”

I waited for an answer but Doyoung remained silent and I really wanted to see his expression, was he mad that I told him that?

“What?” My eyebrows furrowed at his confused tone, “You’re the one who buys them daily—”

The rest of his words got swallowed by my loudness. My heart started thumping wildly as I unlocked the bedroom’s door in a hurry and threw it open, “What?!”

Doyoung���s eyebrows were furrowed too as we looked at each other confused, “You…aren’t the one buying the lilies?”

“And it’s not you who’s been giving them to me?” Doyoung and I seemed to realize what this meant at the same time and as I scampered to shut the window of my room closed and lock it, Doyoung hurried to take on some shoes as he turned on the lights outside around the house. He threw on a jacket and hurried outside as I remained shivering in the middle of the room. Goosebumps covered my skin as I remained staring at the flowers on my nightstand that I got yesterday. Who was giving me these flowers then? And why was this person breaking inside our house?

Aw, does our little Y/N have a secret admirer? Who could it be?

“No!” I shook my head and hurriedly shut all blinds in my room and then went around the house, shutting each one of them. Doyoung came inside looking distressed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll talk to the boys, and they’ll start patrolling around the neighborhood. Tomorrow a search team will come and search the house for any foreign DNA, alright?” Doyoung spoke with a serious tone as he locked the front door and turned to look at me, “Nothing will happen, alright?”

“They have been breaking in for two weeks, Doyoung—” I bit my lower lip and started tapping my leg against the floor anxiously, “Do they want something from me?”

Doyoung walked up to me and held onto my shoulders, “We’ll catch them before they can do anything, yes?”

I sighed and nodded my head, looking around the house to see the white lilies everywhere. They made me feel sick to my stomach, so I walked past Doyoung to take the trash bin and started throwing all of them inside it, cursing under my breath. I should have known that it wasn’t Doyoung. I’m so stupid!

           Sleeping was hard last night and after struggling for a while, I somehow fell asleep towards the morning hours. I didn’t have the energy to go and watch Wonwoo today, I was too paranoid to even wear headphones on my run. I kept glancing behind me, until I noticed the police car parked around the curb and two of Doyoung’s colleagues chatting as they had coffee in their hands. I quickly greeted them before running past them, deciding to change my running route out of fear that if someone indeed was watching would already know I would head that way and do something to me. Doyoung kept messaging me every half an hour and I got irritated so I told him to just watch the app where it showed him my location, and at least that made him stop. I was halfway down the path when my phone started buzzing in my back pocket, tickling my butt cheek. I stopped running and unzipped the pocket, taking my phone in my hand. My lungs were screaming for air and I had sweat a lot as I pushed myself in order to try and forget the whole stalker deal. But when my eyes fell on the caller ID, I felt excited.

“I hope you went on that vacation and enjoyed yourself,” Came Mark’s voice through the phone and I chuckled, still trying to catch my breath, “Because I’ve got a new job for you.”

I hummed and breathed loudly, waiting for Mark to continue.

“Am I…interrupting something?” His voice was hesitant and it made me laugh.

“Yeah, my run.” Mark chuckled and I turned around, walking back towards the house, “Tell me everything.”

“It’s a one-day job, but it’s very important. The names are Wen Junhui and Xu Minghao. I’ll send you the details in a message on your other number, delete it once you had it memorized.”

“What exactly will I have to look out for?” I wondered as I passed by the police car again, the officers were gone this time.

“Those two are planning a heist, just take pictures of each jewelry place they go inside and send them to me straight when you think it’s clear.” I pursed my lips and thought a little.

“Fine, but don’t say a word to Doyoung. He knows about us and he’s very mad.”

“I know,” Mark cleared his throat, sounding awkward, “He very much wants to fire me right now. Maybe you heard, but Sana is dead, so he’s the big boss now…”

“I know,” I muttered and walked down the street, looking around before crossing onto the other side, “Doyoung told me. Seems like she was nuts or something…”

“She had it coming,” Mark scoffed and it peaked my interest, “Anyone who works against or turns on Kim Mingyu ends up being dead.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I was about to ask who this man was, but Mark gasped, “Shit, your brother is coming—keep your eyes on your phone!”

He hung up and I sighed as I locked my phone, wondering if I would find anything about Kim Mingyu on the internet. Since Wonwoo worked for him, I’ve seen him a few times, his business seemed pretty serious. Lost in thought, I didn’t notice the guy approaching me and gasped when their shoulder collided with mine. I hissed and stopped, turning around to shout at them, but the person didn’t even acknowledge me.

“Asshole!” I shouted after them, noticing their hunched form. The person seemed tall and looked like he was trying to hide his actual height. I turned to walk when the scent hit me. Musk and gunpowder. I quickly turned around, but the man in the black clothes was already gone.

Was that your secret admirer?

I shivered and quickly ran the rest of the way home, only being around the corner. I quickly unlocked the gate and as I walked inside, my eyes fell on the white lilies that I threw in the dumpster this morning. I felt bad for them because they were very beautiful, but I didn’t want them inside the house anymore.

After showering and getting ready, I checked out Mark’s message and memorized the information quickly, deleting the message. I grabbed my laptop and put it inside my bag together with my camera as I pulled on my tennis shoes and left the house, locking everything after me. I had an hour until the targets would show up to the city center to check out all shops, so I decided to take a walk there, try to use up the energy that didn’t go away while I was running due to it being cut short. I let Doyoung know that I was going out and to an agglomerated area, so that he didn’t have to worry, besides he had the tracker on. I snapped a few pictures as I walked and reveled in the silence around me as I took the back streets, where less people walked. I wondered what Wonwoo was doing, and suddenly I felt bad that I didn’t follow him around today. He’d be at his work place right now, having already been to the gym earlier this morning after he dropped Hyemi off at work and bought his coffee. What was interesting about Wonwoo was that each time he ordered coffee, he bought something different. My phone dinged as I turned onto the main street, getting lost in the crowd of people as I opened my phone and almost shrieked when I saw whom the message was from.

From Wonwoo: Hey…I hope I’m not bothering you…I was just wondering when we could meet up? You know…to give me back my t-shirt.

I struggled for a second to hold the phone in both hands and also not walk into others as I typed back.

To Wonwoo: Hi! You’re not bothering me at all! I washed it this morning…so if the weather is nice, it’ll be totally dry by tomorrow! Is tomorrow good for you?

I was about to put my phone away, but Wonwoo started typing back instantly and soon came his answer.

From Wonwoo: I can’t tomorrow, I won’t be in town and will only get back late. The next day…is it good for you?

I looked around me, noticing that I was in the area Mark instructed me to. I noticed the first jewelry shop and found a bench right across from it, so I hurried to take a seat there.

To Wonwoo: Sure, at noon? We can have lunch, since I turned it down last time…

My heart was pounding in my chest as I waited for Wonwoo’s answer, which seemed to take ages, and in fact only took a few seconds.

From Wonwoo: Fine, but let’s go to a restaurant. The food is better than the one at the mall.

He wasn’t wrong, besides this was sounding an awful lot like a date. I giggled and looked around before typing back.

To Wonwoo: Tell me the location and time?

From Wonwoo: 1 o’clock, but I’ll pick you up. Give me your address.

I hesitated for a second, knowing better not to give away my address to a complete stranger. My parents warned me about bad people, and so did Doyoung numerous times…especially since he became a cop and had to work on many cases that ended badly due to naïve girls going on dates with guys from Tinder. But I didn’t meet Wonwoo on Tinder…and I’ve already been watching him for weeks, I know what he’s like.

Honestly, you would pass on an opportunity like this one, Y/N? Isn’t this what we’ve been working for? Getting Wonwoo? Why did you even bother if you’re about to refuse him?!

When I saw Wonwoo typing, I quickly sent him my address, scared that he thought I was about to refuse him after I was the one who proposed getting lunch.

From Wonwoo: Alright, I’ll be there then.

To Wonwoo: Can’t wait to see you!

I instantly regretted sending that, but it was no use deleting it as he had already read the message.

From Wonwoo: Me too.

I giggled again and as I looked up; I saw a black Ferrari pulling up. I quickly scrambled to get out my camera from my bag and turned it on at lightning speed. I snapped pictures as the targets got out of the car. They were the same guys from the pictures Mark sent me, Minghao and Junhui. Both dressed pretty fancy and I knew they were the targets. I remained seated as they walked inside the first jewelry shop and snapped a picture of it. They didn’t spend much time in, quickly headed to the next one. I followed them from the bench as long as I could, but as they started walking towards the end of the street, I had to move too to be able to catch them. My phone and Wonwoo were forgotten, but just as I got up from the bench, throwing my bag over my shoulder and camera in my hand, my phone buzzed. As the targets were still inside the shop, I quickly checked to see that I had another new message from Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: What are you doing right now?

I paused a little bit, finding his wording a little weird, but shrugged it off. I looked up just as the targets walked out of the shop and placed my phone in my pocket, snapping pictures as they talked and looked around. I wasn’t afraid that they’d see me as there were lots of people around us, but it still felt like I was being watched. They didn’t move from that spot, so I quickly answered Wonwoo.

To Wonwoo: Nothing much, just working. You?

I looked up to see the targets moving across the street, headed to a simple gardening shop. What could they be doing there? I started quickly walking towards it and snapped a picture just as I passed by in front of it, hopeful that no one saw me. Especially the targets. Then they walked out and headed down the street, towards the bench I was sitting at previously. I trailed after them, keeping a good distance as I pretended to look around and snapped a few pictures of the things that were displayed in the windows, trying to act normal and as if I was a tourist. I felt my phone vibrating again, so I checked it with a sigh. This isn’t how I’m supposed to be doing my work.

From Wonwoo: Working too, waiting for my boss.

So Wonwoo was with Mingyu then, probably sitting in his red Mercedes, waiting for Mingyu to show up and order him around. I didn’t react to the text message as the targets started moving again, headed for the Ferrari they have arrived in. Hastily, I snapped a few more pictures of the car, getting the license plate, and once they sped off, I took a deep breath. Well, I wasn’t caught, so that was amazing. Now I just have to send Mark all the photos and then have some lunch, my stomach is screaming for food.

I found a nice restaurant just around the corner and sat at a table at the back, opening my laptop. I copied all pictures on it and then sent Mark everything through an e-mail before deleting everything off my camera and laptop. No traces of what I had done, perfect as always.

To Mark: Everything good?

From Mark: Perfect, thanks again. I’ll pay you later, wait around a little bit.

To Mark: Fine, I have to eat either way!

And then I put my phone away and ordered food, which thankfully came quickly, as I was really hungry. I bobbed my head to the songs played on the radio while I ate, my legs bouncing underneath the table, unable to sit still. Not that it was something unusual. I was slurping up the rest of the soup when Doyoung messaged me and told me he would be home early again and that he could pick me up if I wanted him to. But I couldn’t as Mark had to pay me still, so I told him that I wanted to stay out alone for a little bit longer. And after almost two hours of me sitting at the restaurant, Mark finally called me that he was in front of the gardening shop, waiting for me. Paying for the food and greeting the lady, I left the restaurant in a hurry, glad that Mark finally showed up. In truth, I wanted Doyoung to pick me up, but he was at home by now and I didn’t want to bother him. I would just take a cab as it was getting dark and I didn’t want to walk home anymore. The exchange between Mark and I was brief as usual and I quickly found a cab for myself. I got in and told the driver where to take me and got comfortable against the beige leather seats. I sighed and started tapping my thigh with my fingers, looking out the window at the bright billboards and lights of the city. We went past the first intersection, but traffic was getting bad as everyone was headed home or out to have fun, so we caught the next red light. The cab driver turned the volume of the radio up a bit as he started bobbing his head to the beat and I found myself tapping along it too; the song was catchy. Police car sirens could be heard in the distance, but it wasn’t something unusual. Then suddenly, there was a commotion a few cars behind us and as I twisted my neck to see what was happening, four figures in all black and masks covering their whole faces ran up to the car. The cab driver panicked and before he could lock the doors, his door was ripped open and he was pulled out. I jumped and opened my own door in a hurry, wanting to get out, but I couldn’t as all four doors of the cab were now ripped open and the four men jumped in. I got pushed into the middle by my head by the man on my right and squeezed there as I gripped my bag to my chest. All doors were shut closed and only the driver put on his seatbelt. Suddenly, he started reeving the engine and then crashed into the car in front of us. The car jolted and I gasped as I was sent forward, eyes wide as my heart pumped loudly. God damn it, I should have just accepted Doyoung’s offer and asked Mark to pay me tomorrow. The cab driver was holding onto his head and screaming for help as the sirens got closer and the driver started honking, trying to make space for us to pass. I remained silent and shocked, gripping onto my bag and hopeful that they wouldn’t do anything to me. They seemed too stressed about leaving and getting away from the approaching police.

“For fuck’s sake!” Suddenly the one in the passenger seat shouted, his voice raspy, as he threw his door open and got halfway out. And then a silver thing glinted in his hand and I made myself small as I knew he was about to pull the trigger. The gunshots were loud as people started screaming around, suddenly the cars in front of us started moving aside, the light had turned green too.

“Floor it!” The man to my left shouted and the one in the passenger seat hopped back in as the driver pressed the gas pedal and we were sent flying forward. I yelped and held onto the headrest of the passenger seat tightly, looking ahead. The driver was honking constantly until every car started moving out of the way and we were flying down the road, but the sirens were closer too. So close, that the red and blue lights could be seen from inside the car. My breathing started to pick up as my left leg was bouncing very fast, and I was trying to remain as calm as I could. It seemed like they didn’t want to bother with me, so if I remain silent, maybe nothing will happen to me. I might as well blindfold myself so that I know nothing about where they are taking me and then they can let me free as I haven’t seen their faces.

The light turned red in front of us, but the driver wasn’t paying any attention to the traffic lights as he was speeding and switching lanes frantically, even going into the opposite lanes, making me squeeze my eyes shut. If we were about to run into any car, I didn’t want to see it. My bouncing leg knocked into something and I opened one eyes, becoming aware that these criminals were holding black bags that seemed to be heavy. They must have robbed some place and now were running away, just fucking perfect that they chose this cab! I gasped again as the car was jerked to the right and I was sent into the person on my left, making them hiss. I was expecting a slap or them to scream at me, but they just gently adjusted me back into the middle seat, turning their head towards me as if they realized for the first time that I was in the car too. I could see their brown eyes, and they widened. Mine widened too out of fear and I quickly ducked my head, holding onto my bag tightly. By now, the police was full on chasing these criminals, they were right behind us and the car was jerked to the left this time.

“Fuck this shit car!” A very deep voice suddenly shouted, making me jump, “I can’t outrun the fucking police in this old ass piece of shit—”

“Calm down!” The man on my right snapped, voice tense and raised. My left leg was bouncing so fast that I was getting a cramp in my thigh, but I couldn’t stop, I was on the brink of passing out from how anxious I was feeling. I stopped breathing normally a long time ago and I even started sweating, if only someone would’ve rolled down a window…

“Where the fuck do I go if they are trailing us? I can’t lose them here!” The deep voiced man continued shouting and he honked again as the sirens seemed to become deafening. But the more I concentrated on his deep voice, the more familiar it became. My body felt like it was made out of rock already, but it seemed like I could tense up even more. My breath got cut off for a second as my head snapped up, my whole body sitting up straight. My eyes bore into the back of the driver’s head. I knew that voice, but it can’t be. My brain is just making up things, I’m under so much stress that I started making up things.

“Take the back streets!” The man from the passenger seat answered him, “Boss is waiting at the docks.”

“The docks are fucking half an hour away from here! Start shooting at their cars tires, you idiots!” The driver’s deep voice boomed in the car and I shivered as three windows were rolled down. The three men suddenly all had weapons in their hands and they started shooting at the police car that was speeding beside the cab. I remained staring at the driver as my brain was screaming at me that the voice belonged to Wonwoo. Suddenly, the guy looked in the rearview mirror and our gazes connected. My mouth fell open when I saw foxy eyes staring back at me with the intensity I was used to seeing from Wonwoo, their brown seemed to be even darker as I gaped at Wonwoo. This can’t be happening, no. This must be a joke. But Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed and he quickly looked back at the road, taking another sharp turn as the rest managed to get rid of that one police car, but at least three more were still chasing us. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrating in my back pocket and I let go of my bag with one hand, only now noticing how badly I was shaking. I knew no one was paying attention to me, so I curled up into a ball and sneakily placed the phone against my ear after hitting the green button.

“Y/N?!” Doyoung’s voice was frantic and the sirens were even louder through the phone, “Why the hell are you in the car we are chasing—”

Suddenly, the phone was ripped from my hands and I shrieked, trying to reach for it, “Doyoung!”

But the guys on each of my side held me down and the man in the passenger’s seat had the phone against his ear.

“Listen here—” But he was cut off by Doyoung, I could hear him screaming through the phone, but I didn’t understand what he was saying as all I could hear were my own loud heart beats as I struggled against the men holding me. Finally, my flight or fight kicked in, and I chose to fight as I didn’t really have the opportunity to run. Only God knows what was about to happen, I wasn’t going to sit around anymore. I elbowed the man on my right in the stomach and he cried out loudly as I finally freed my right arm. The man on my left was very skinny, but despite that he was very strong and my arm was turning numb, that’s how hard he was squeezing me. I started fighting against him too, punched him in the face with my free hand, even though he tried dodging it. My left arm was free too and I lunged for the guy in the passenger seat, knowing that I’d kill all of us if I started choking Wonwoo. So instead, my hands went around the other guy’s neck from behind as I started squeezing, the words he was about to say to my brother dying away in his throat. My phone fell from his hand and he gripped my wrists, trying to claw at me with his nails, but he was wearing glows. I started squeezing even harder as Wonwoo started swerving the car around violently.

“Get a fucking grip on her!” He shouted as with his right hand he gripped my bicep and started yanking on my arm. I cried out in pain, trying to elbow him as suddenly hands around my waist and forearms were pulling me back harshly. The guy I was choking started fighting back too, probably close to passing out as his struggling became less and less. But these guys were very strong, and two were pulling me back while one was squeezing so hard on my bicep that it felt like someone was trying to rip my arm off, I had to let go of the guy in the passenger seat. He started coughing and wheezing loudly as he fell forward. I screamed as I was restrained, this time the guys were almost sitting on me to stop me from fighting back. Wonwoo looked at me through the rearview mirror and I knew that he knew I recognized him, his deadly glare made me still instantly. I was rooted against the leather seat as he reached for my phone and hit a button, no doubt calling my brother.

“You want your sister? You play along with me.” Was all he said before hanging up and throwing the phone back at me, hitting my knees as it fell onto the ground. The guys still held me tightly, even though I stopped struggling. The one in the front stopped coughing, but he was still leaned over, holding onto his head as he was breathing loudly. My lungs were rising and falling at an alarming pace as my legs started bouncing again. But then suddenly Wonwoo took a sharp U turn and the police cars stopped following us. The sirens stopped blaring, all you could see were the lights, lights that were getting farther away from us. Doyoung was getting farther away from me, he was in one of those cars! I bit my lower lip and tried to keep the thoughts about me dying out as for once in my life I focused on the voices.

Look at that, Y/N is having the most fun she’s ever head. Don’t worry, you won’t die. Wonwoo won’t kill you, he’s into you. And he probably knows that you know it’s him. Isn’t he just so hot? The way he screamed, the way he’s driving…and you thought he was boring?! His burning gaze makes you feel all sorts of ways, Y/N, admit it. Now calm down, you are getting out of this alive.

The voices weren’t helpful as they were rambling about Wonwoo, but I did take a deep breath and noticed that until I was zoned out, he stopped driving at a crazy speed. We were downtown, but nowhere close to the docks. Wonwoo pulled up into the parking lot of a poorly lit convenience store, where a police car was already there. But all lights were off and only one man was there, walking around the car anxiously. It was Doyoung and my heart almost jumped out of my chest when Wonwoo stopped the car just next to Doyoung’s police car. The doors were kicked open again and I jumped when the guy on my left held onto my bicep, Wonwoo squeezed me so hard that my whole arm was on fire, it would bruise so ugly. I was pulled out of the car, but not manhandled, as Doyoung came to a stop at the back of the car. The guy let go of me and I took two hurried steps, but someone blocked my path, and I ran into their hard chest. Musk and gunpowder. I didn’t look up at Wonwoo, only stared at his chest as I held my bag against my stomach, my whole-body trembling.

“Say a word to anyone about this, I know where you live and I won’t hesitate to find you.” His deep voice was low as he whispered to me, radiating anger. I bit my lower lip and said nothing as I knocked into him hard and walked past to get to Doyoung. He was quick to pull me into his arms and I clung onto him, telling myself that I was finally safe. It was silent as no one dared to say anything; Doyoung was so tense, he felt like I was hugging a rock.

“If you ever again put my sister into danger, I won’t hesitate to continue what Sana started. You’re lucky I’ve known Mingyu since we were kids, otherwise you’d be laying in jail for life right now.” Doyoung was so angry, his voice trembled and it even raised a few octaves as he spoke to the criminals. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was just letting them off like that? They were criminals!

“Your generosity will be always returned, you know that, Doyoung.” The guy I choked could barely speak, his voice was a low rasp and then I heard something colliding against the concrete. Doyoung moved us a little as car doors were closed and the engine of the cab started again as Wonwoo pulled out of the parking lot with the tires screeching. I let go of Doyoung and looked at him disappointed, lips trembling.

“You’re a corrupt cop?” I managed to say as a few tears fell from my eyes. He looked down at the bag and picked it up, remorse showing on his face.

“You weren’t supposed to find out, but it’s a complicated story—”

“Nothing about this is complicated!” I shouted, angrily wiping the tears off my cheeks, “You just let four criminals run off like nothing happened! Like I couldn’t have been killed in that chase or afterwards by them! If people like you are the ones protecting this city everyone should be afraid for their own lives!”

Doyoung’s face got red and he pointed a finger at me, “You don’t get to tell me what’s wrong and what’s right! I’m not perfect; you think you’re the only one with flaws, Y/N?! Wake up! I’m not the perfect brother you always make me out to be! Once you start working for the mafia there’s no way out—”

“You work for the mafia?!” I screamed, seeing Doyoung in a different light for the first time. He really wasn’t the person I thought he was. The innocent Doyoung never existed, at least not since he’s been working for the mafia apparently.

“No, but I help them out sometimes. Mingyu and I made a pact a long time ago—”

“Kim Mingyu is the mafia leader?”

“Yes—”

“Who is Jeon Wonwoo?” Doyoung paused for a second, eyebrows furrowing. I raised my eyebrows at him as I waited for an answer. Oh, and he was going to give me all the answers I wanted.

“A very skilled getaway driver, Mingyu’s closest and most trusted friend, and his chauffeur.” Doyoung answered me after he took a deep breath, searching my face for a reaction. But it never came, I surpassed it. I felt tired and I was aching all over, I need a warm bath and sleep. I didn’t even want to know anything anymore, that was enough.

“Let’s go home.” I said with a sigh and walked up to the police car, “I’m very tired.”

“Y/N—”

“Now, Doyoung.” I snapped and opened the door, sitting inside angrily. Doyoung shook his head before following suit, remaining silent for the rest of the night.

Isn’t Wonwoo just the most amazing person you’ve ever—Shut up, I shouted in my head, closing my eyes tightly. I was done listening to the voices. I wanted nothing to do with them anymore. No, Wonwoo was a criminal and he made it very clear what he’d do if I said anything about what happened. I was going to ask Mark to return that damned t-shirt to him and I never wanted to see Wonwoo again or talk to him again. I blocked his number and deleted all pictures I had of him in my phone. In the morning, when I was home alone, I was going to burn every single thing I had collected about him, every single picture I snapped. He was a criminal and I wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

           Ever since last night Doyoung was acting like I was an alien. He didn’t speak to me; he didn’t even look at me! He quietly greeted me when I walked to the kitchen to have breakfast, but before I could thank him for making breakfast or ask him how he slept, he was out of the front door. He barely checked up on me all day, and when I gave him a call to ask him if he’d come home for lunch as I cooked food, he didn’t answer but sent a text saying that he couldn’t speak to me at the moment. It was pissing me off. I didn’t want him to make this harder for us. What I found out was a lot to take in and I wasn’t proud of him, but he was my brother and he was the only person who stood by my side since day one without judging me. I loved him very much and I needed him next to me. I needed him to understand that nothing changed between us, besides the fact that currently I was very pissed off and scared. The police were still patrolling around the neighborhood as no DNA was found inside the house that didn’t belong to us, and honestly, I was on the verge of inviting the officers inside the house as I jumped at every sound. Sleep came easily as I was very stressed, but my eyes opened at five in morning and I haven’t been able to go back to sleep, so I got to work. I gathered everything I had on Wonwoo and threw it in the fireplace in the back garden and watched it as it burned away in the morning light. It eased my nerves a little bit as I clutched the blanket tighter around me, knowing that Wonwoo was out of town today. But tomorrow he wouldn’t be, and I had a feeling that he was still going to want to meet up with me. But I didn’t want to, not anymore. Knowing that Mark wasn’t sleeping at that hour, I called him, and told him everything that happened. He was very sorry and felt really guilty and promised to never send me off to watch mafia members, I was content with that. Watching shady business men was alright, but following mafia members wasn’t fun anymore. I stayed inside the whole day after I went on my run and just cleaned and cooked even more. I updated my blog and accepted a request of someone to put up my photos in their gallery next month. Since Mark wasn’t going to contact me for a while now, I started looking for vacation destinations. I really needed it, I had to get away from the city for a while. The voices went quiet and even when I listened closely, I only heard intangible whispers. It was good, it meant I was over Wonwoo. Even if I wasn’t really. The fairytale I was living in was shattered and as I glanced at his folded t-shirt, I sighed. I was hoping that for once I finally found someone who would be good for me, but it turned out I was very wrong. Usually my hunches were good, but this time I was totally blinded by his attractiveness and the voices that never knew better. Shaking my head, I remembered the old lady from the woods and wondered if she was still alive…or if she’d recognize me if I showed up. She told me she’d welcome me anytime again, but I didn’t visit her very frequently as my family was keeping a close eye on me after I ran away, and it was fine. But now, I craved to be engulfed in total silence and the green nature around me.

Nightfall came and I was eating on the couch as I watched a reality show, laughing loudly when something was amusing. It wasn’t very late, but the sun still set early as we haven’t passed the spring solstice yet. I just bit into the meatball I made for lunch when the front door was unlocked and I heard Doyoung’s keys.

“Hi!” I called out with my mouth full, raising the hand with which I was holding the fork to wave at him. Doyoung hummed and went to the fridge directly and opened it.

“Oh, I made a lot of food today,” I said as I turned around, resting both legs on the couch, “Meatballs, found some spaghetti too so I made some sauce for it. I made a salad with the veggies we had and lentil cream soup, your favorite!”

But Doyoung didn’t react and my eyebrows furrowed as I chewed the food I had in my mouth. This had do end right now, I wasn’t going to let my brother treat me like I was invisible just because I found out that he’s a corrupt cop.

“Hey!” I snapped, placing the plate on the coffee table forcefully, “Stop being a pussy and face me!”

Doyoung sighed and threw a glance at me as he took out the soup and I spoke again, “Aren’t I the one supposed to be giving you the silent treatment?!”

Doyoung just shrugged as he took a bowl and poured soup into it, “I don’t know…”

“Nice to hear you are still able to speak—”

“Are you not mad?” Doyoung cut me off before I could finish my sarcastic remark and I glared at him.

“I’m very mad, but it doesn’t mean that I’ll stop acknowledging you, yeah? What kind of shit person does that?” I rolled my eyes and Doyoung chuckled, throwing a glance at me as he sat at the table to eat.

“The me kind of shit person apparently.” I chuckled and resumed eating as Doyoung did too. I lowered the volume of the TV a little bit and turned back towards him again, taking in his attire. His uniform changed; I didn’t notice it this morning.

“You have a new uniform?” I asked with a grin and Doyoung nodded, looking down at himself.

“Yeah, I got it today.” I nodded and bit into the meatball.

“Well, congratulations—next time lock the mafia guys up, yeah?” Doyoung paused and I knew it was too soon to joke about this, but I wasn’t exactly joking. My tone wasn’t playful at all and Doyoung sighed, wordlessly nodding as he started slurping his soup.

“Were you that hungry? You didn’t even change…” I wondered as Doyoung finished eating and stood up.

“No, but I have to go to the funeral house. It’s Sana’s watcher…” My lips formed a thin line as I nodded, finishing my dinner wordlessly as Doyoung moved around the kitchen. He squeezed some lemon in his water and drank it, closing his eyes for a second. His body seemed tense and he was hunched a little forward as he washed away the dishes he used.

“Don’t come too late, you should rest more.” I said as Doyoung nodded and put on his shoes, taking his keys.

“You too, don’t wait for me.” He said and I nodded, watching him leave the house. The locked the door and I sighed, getting up from the couch. I walked to the sink and washed the plate and fork I used, putting them away. I left the TV on as I just wanted to change into my pajamas and go back to watch something before bed. But as I reached my door, I heard footsteps outside the front door and knocking. Rolling my eyes, I walked to the front door and unlocked it, ready to tease Doyoung for forgetting something at home again. But it wasn’t Doyoung. I froze as I stared at Wonwoo’s face, goosebumps suddenly covering my body. Then I realized it was Wonwoo and quickly tried to slam the door closed, but Wonwoo was quick to react and he started pushing it back. I hissed and put all of my weight against it, struggling to close it as Wonwoo was pushing just as hard to open it up. I was wearing socks and my right leg slipped on the tiles and Wonwoo gained advantage as my weight shifted. He was able to push it wide enough to slip inside and I quickly abandoned the thought of trying to keep him out of the house and ran to the cupboard full of knives. I quickly opened it and took out the sharpest knife we had and turned around, just in time as Wonwoo almost reached me.

“Stay away!” I pointed the knife at him and he stayed rooted, his sharp eyes gazing into mine, “What do you want? I didn’t say anything to anyone—Doyoung already knew about you! You want your bloody t-shirt?! It’s in my room!”

Wonwoo remained silent and I jerked my hand slightly, showing him that I wasn’t afraid to stab him. I wouldn’t go down without a good fight, in case he thought I was scared of him. Which I was, but I was angrier right now and it ruled over my fear.

“I just came to talk.” Wonwoo said calmly and I chuckled dryly, rolling my eyes.

“Oh, nice talking. This is how you usually do it? You break into someone’s house and get threatened by a knife and then just…talk?”

“I usually don’t get threatened.” Wonwoo answered with a shrug and I huffed, eyes darting towards my phone that was on the coffee table. If I outsmart Wonwoo, I can get to my phone and run inside my room and jump out the window. Then he can try and talk to me, but I won’t be here anymore.

“Well…less stressful for you, I guess.” I tried stalling, gripping the knife tighter, “But I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“Just listen to me, I’m not here to hurt you.” Wonwoo’s voice softened and his eyes did too as he tried pleading me with his gaze. I rolled my eyes and then lunged towards him, without the intention of stabbing him. I just wanted to take him off guard, to distract him. And it worked as he jumped back with a gasp, his sharp eyes widening. I dropped the knife and pushed him hard, making him fall onto his butt. I quickly ran around him and got to the fridge when I was grabbed. Well, obviously my plan wasn’t a smart one and this is why Doyoung checked on me regularly. I really needed someone to look after me. I yelped as Wonwoo’s arms went around my waist and roughly yanked me back, pinning me against the table with his body. He didn’t look very pleased and my heart started beating quickly, thinking of a way to free myself from his grip. I could either kneel him or just try and headbutt him, but it seemed like Wonwoo guessed what I was thinking as his lean and muscular body molded into mine. My wrists were pinned to the table and I shivered, his cologne hitting my nose hard. He smelled like musk and gunpowder again and he was so close I could count his lashes if I wanted to. I craned my head back and tried to move around, but it only made me feel more parts of body and that was too much just yet.

Look at this compromising position, Y/N. All you have to do is lean in and open your knees, isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along? We are guessing Wonwoo wants the same thing…not that we are complaining.

I tried to remain unexpressive as the voices suddenly returned and were very loud, of course they’d come back in a situation like this one.

“Well, this is very uncomfortable.” I said quietly, maintaining the eye contact with Wonwoo. My heart was beating fast and I could feel the heat in my cheeks. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. Why do I still like him? After yesterday…how can I still like him?

“Well, you didn’t give me a choice.” Wonwoo muttered, his low voice vibrating against his chest and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” I scoffed and then glared at him, “why would I want to talk to a criminal? Let alone give him a chance to explain himself?”

“Did you let your brother explain himself?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows rose and I glanced away, trying to free my wrists again.

“Kind of…” Wonwoo just hummed and lessened his hold on my wrist so that it didn’t hurt anymore. The bicep he squeezed so hard was now a beautiful shade of green and purple.

“Then it’s my turn—”

“Whatever Wonwoo, I really don’t care. You’re part of the mafia and you robbed the jewelry shops Mark asked me to watch yesterday. And then you had to run away because Mark alerted the police thanks to me and then very sadly you got in the same cab with me. And look at my bicep, you did that.” I snapped, looking down at the bruise as Wonwoo’s gaze followed. His eyebrows furrowed and he sighed, looking back up at me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He muttered with remorse as he looked at it again. His words and reaction were genuine but I just rolled my eyes.

“A little late for that, now—” I shoved myself into him, but it did nothing, “Let go of me.”

Wonwoo’s lips pulled in a straight line and he shook his head, seemingly thinking about what to do next. But I started struggling and trying to move him back so that I would be able to knee him. But he probably knew that was what I was trying to do and squeezed my legs together between his.

“God, the second I get out of your hold I will beat you up so badly, Wonwoo, no one will be able to recognize you—” Wonwoo’s deep laughter echoed in the house as I looked at him menacingly. I wasn’t joking, I really wanted to beat him up and I would, but I needed to free myself first.

“I love how you underestimate me; the shock will be bigger once I’m done—” But Wonwoo’s laughter was so contagious that I had to fight back my own. His nose was scrunched up and I just noticed how he wasn’t wearing glasses. His hair was styled back and he seemed to be wearing some fancy clothes, his pants were silky. He was very attractive, but I tried to ignore my sudden thirst for him. So, I looked away and he slowly stopped laughing, my eyes fell on the front door as I tried coming up with another escape route. But on the ground were five white lilies and I felt my mind go blank as I stared at them. There’s no possible way anyone brought those in, Doyoung and I never buy white lilies, and Wonwoo is the only one that just barged in. Wonwoo.

“Oh my God,” I muttered in despair, looking at Wonwoo all frantic, “Did you—bring those flowers? Wonwoo?!”

Wonwoo looked at the flowers and cleared his throat, looking back at me, “Yeah.”

“Oh my God.” I muttered again and felt like a deer caught in headlights. It was Wonwoo all along? What is happening? I don’t understand anything anymore!

Well…at least you found out who your secret admirer is. And it’s Wonwoo, you should be happy it’s him and not some old creep—

“Shut up!” I exclaimed, squeezing my eyes shut, “This can’t be happening. No fucking way.”

Wonwoo looked confused when I opened my eyes and looked at him, “You were breaking in our house for two weeks?!”

“You’re the one to make a scene, huh?” Wonwoo suddenly raised his voice and his eyes narrowed as he started glaring at me, “You’ve been stalking me for two weeks.”

I gaped at him and blinked, taken off guard, “I—I wasn’t—what?”

“Yeah, you really thought I wouldn’t know?” He chuckled unamused, “I’m surprised it took you this long to realize it was me bringing the flowers.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I looked at him confused, “How was I supposed to know?! I thought you had no idea I was watching you—”

“Stalking me.”

“Stalking you, whatever,” I rolled my eyes, trying to make sense of the situation, “It doesn’t give you the right to break in my room and—were you marking your territory or some shit mafias do? Were you showing other mafias that you were to be the one to kill me—”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed and I tried to push him away again, my back was becoming numb, “You fantasize too much. Mafias don’t do that, but—”

“But what?!” I snapped, eyes widening.

“I did think of killing you in the first three days of you stalking me.” Wonwoo finished with a smirk. My heart skipped another beat as I started breathing faster, his musky scent made me feel dizzy.

“What?!” I exclaimed and started struggling against Wonwoo again, trying to free myself, “For God’s sake, I can’t feel my back anymore, Wonwoo!”

He gave me a look that said if I tried running away again he’d tie me to a chair and leave me there until Doyoung returned, he probably would’ve gagged me too, so I just sighed and let go of all muscles, softening my body. Wonwoo’s eyes gazed into mine intently and his hold slowly loosened as he seemed to lean in subconsciously. My eyes fell onto his lips and realized how plump his upper lip was, but we both snapped out if at the same time as he stepped back and I jumped away from the table, breathing hard. I massaged my lower back as best as I could as I licked my lips and looked at Wonwoo with a glare.

“I don’t like what I’m about to say—” And I took a deep breath and watched as Wonwoo started smirking again, “But what if…we both just forget about all the shit we did and…go on and live our lives like we never met. And, I don’t know, get some therapy as we both apparently need it badly.”

My words made Wonwoo laugh again and I actually smiled this time too, feeling tired after all the new information dumped on me.

“I can’t do that,” Wonwoo said once his laughter died down, “I can’t continue living like I never met you.”

I shrugged and ran my hands through my hair, looking away from him, “Well, I can and I will. So, you better do the same or else I’ll tell Doyoung about everything and he’ll be really pissed and won’t care about Mingyu or whoever, yeah?”

Look at our Y/N lying like that, as if all of this didn’t happen because of her.

I felt Wonwoo move closer to me and his fingers ghosted over the bruise on my left bicep, “Can you really pretend I don’t exist? When you started this?”

“I didn’t start shit!” I snapped and turned my body away from his, “I stalked you for two weeks and I won’t do it anymore because I got over you. I always do. It never lasts for long, you’re not special.”

But he is Y/N, you know it. He knows it.

“Really?” Wonwoo muttered with a small smile and I just shrugged, avoiding his gaze, “Because I watched you the whole time we were in the same Coffee Shop. You were following that businessman, working for Mark, I assume. I noticed how you couldn’t stay still and how you whispered things to yourself. How the barista lit up when she saw you and talked to you. If you wouldn’t have stalked me after that day, I would’ve still found you.”

I just gulped and felt all the anger, frustration, fear melt away as I slowly looked at Wonwoo, “But you broke inside my bedroom…to give me flowers…”

My voice was small and he nodded as he stepped closer, placing his palm on my cheek. I almost jumped at how warm his palm was again and tried to ignore the rapid beat of my heart, “And I was wrong to do that…sorry.”

“Sorry for stalking you.” I muttered and a small grin appeared on Wonwoo’s lips as he closed the distance between our bodies again.

“I’m also sorry for the other bad things I did.” Wonwoo added.

“Yeah, fuck you.” I said with a chuckle and his grin widened into a smile.

You’d love that, wouldn’t you, Y/N?

I rolled my eyes at the voices but Wonwoo didn’t react as he leaned down and his red lips pressed against my cheek, making me blush instantly. Why did I forgive him so easily? Maybe because both of us fucked up big time this time.

“I still expect to see you tomorrow at lunch for our date, so tell Mark to stay at home.” My eyes widened as Wonwoo stepped back, letting go of my cheek.

“How do you know—”

“I’m in the mafia, remember? I know everything.” He winked and walked towards the front door.

“And you called me the stalker.” He chuckled as he opened the door and stepped outside.

“Don’t tell Doyoung just yet, he’s very mad for what I did yesterday—”

“Yeah, me too.” I cut him off and Wonwoo gave me an apologetic smile.

“Sleep well.”

“Don’t break in my room anymore!” I called out as he walked down towards the gate, turning around to wave at me. I rolled my eyes and closed the front door, locking it. Jesus, this really is not how I expected things to turn out. I don’t think I need to watch any TV to feel sleepy. This is my cue to rest and worry about what to wear tomorrow for lunch.

You can wear whatever, Wonwoo is head over heels for you, Y/N. And as we’re seeing, you’re too for him.

[shirophantomvox]

Chrollo, Hisoka, and Illumi Headcanons

Chrollo, Hisoka, Illumi, and Leorio headcanons

Hello, anon! I am so sorry for taking longer than usual to respond to this post. I have been so busy with A LOT lately but I have time now! I don’t know if you want N/SFW, romantic or non so I’ll go based on what comes to mind! I know many Tumblr users have made these types of assumptions for them a lot but I wanted to join in. I started writing this last night so forgive me if there are any unbearable grammar errors. I hope you like it anon, I tried my best. I have to work on my headcanons for them because I try to keep them in character. Since we don’t have much background info on ⅔, I have to keep it as realistic as possible. FYI N/SFW content is mentioned.

Discord for Voltron and HxH fans

Let’s start with Chrollo.

Chrollo (SFW)

I’ve seen on here that a lot of you headcanon Chrollo to be an understanding man when it comes to feelings for his significant other. Given his soft voice and calm demeanor, I’m sure that is somewhat true.

It seems like Chrollo isn’t on board with over-the-top PDA meaning he would agree to hand-holding and his arm around you but nothing more. He saves the...other stuff for when you two are alone. Because of Chrollo’s past, it seems like he wouldn’t want to be seen in public that much because that can cause him to get caught by the authorities.

He takes your safety very seriously. You understand that when he is with the Phantom Troupe that you are not to interrupt until the business is over. He doesn’t allow you to get involved with the missions because of how dangerous they can be (example: the auction). He knows you can handle it, he prefers for you not to be involved. Feelings and work can make things difficult.

Although Chrollo hides in the shadows, I imagine he lives in a penthouse with expensive furniture, white and black color pattern, and large windows that have an astonishing view of Yorknew.

After you both have worked long and hard, you open the door just to see the lights dimmed so dark that it matches the night atmosphere. There are rose petals leading to the bathroom where a bubble bath is waiting. As you enter the bathroom, your boyfriend is waiting there, submerged in bubbles sticking his arms out. Candles light up the tiny room casting a romantic shadow from your body. You grab his hand and gently sit in the tub. The warm water felt amazing; it helped your aching muscles (from exercising) feel better. Chrollo gently grabbed your arm and pulled you into a warm, loving embrace. He wrapped his toned arms around your body and rested his chin on your shoulder. He didn’t say a word but instead breathed heavily, kissed your shoulder, and leaned back against the wall. On days like this, he didn’t say much but his actions spoke louder than words.

Chrollo NSFW

I think Chrollo is a passionate lover. This assumption comes from his calm demeanor. He seems to be incredibly patient so if you aren’t positioning yourself the right way or something, he’ll work with you to make sure you get it and you are comfortable.

He is touchy. That means during the nitty-gritty, he likes to touch your face, chin, lips, and your torso as a way to show more affection.

When he is in the mood, he moves slowly then very fast. He cannot resist the urges and feelings he has for you.

He loves to do this while the drapes are open although you have expressed that you like your privacy. It’s ironic. He doesn’t like extreme PDA but is ok with sleeping with you while the lights from the city shine near your penthouse window. Ah, guys are confusing.

After the climax, he lays flat on the bed and pulls you close. He leaves about an inch in between because heat is still radiating off your bodies and it’s summertime.

Hisoka (SFW) If his significant other was shy.

People have mixed feelings about Hisoka, feelings, and whether or not if he is gentle or not. I don’t think that Hisoka is gentle but begins to lay off the harsh jokes or pranks as he sees that you both have fought before and you’re not as weak as he thought.

Unlike Chrollo, he is all for PDA. This ranges from hand holding to playful kisses to passionate kisses. When I saw Hisoka for the first time, I immediately thought he was a fuck boy. A fuck boy is a boy that is only interested in sleeping with someone and doesn’t intend on pursuing a relationship.

He’d take the pleasure of appreciating your presence as well as testing your patience. If you are shy and are easily flustered, he will change that. He’ll do things like kissing you, calling you affectionate names, or anything that will cause you to respond. You hit him jokingly. Still not getting the message, he continues and you hit him harder. This is where he releases a medium moan which causes everyone to look in your direction. You freeze; face flushed and he’s laughing his ass off.

“What’s the matter,” he asks, covering his mouth. “You look flushed~♥.”

“You’re doing too much. Stop playing around! People are staring~💯.” You cover the side of your face. True enough you were a little mortified but in a good way. You knew he did this because he liked you but sometimes he played too much.

This is when he pulls you closer to his face, your ear next to his mouth, and whispers something in your ear that sent chills down your spine that made you blush more than before. He nearly puckered his lips as he spoke. He took his index finger and thumb to caress your cheek.

“Raising your voice at me? That simply won’t do. Aren’t you aware of the consequences~♥?”

You knew better than to not say anything because he would cup your cheeks and pull you into a deep kiss, and wouldn’t let go until he was sure that everyone was looking.

Both of you enjoy red, white, and rose wine. To him, wine equals classiness and sophistication. After fighting each other for hours (which he considers training for you and exercise for him) drinking wine and watching Lifetime (television for idiots) is a great way to end the night.

NSFW

As stated above, I originally thought that Hisoka was a fuck boy, so I am going to roll with that thought. This man has the potential of being rough and if he is too rough this is the time where you can speak up and say so. He’ll listen to you. Similar to Chrollo, he can be very romantic if he wants to. The rose petals gimmick was played out.

Instead, he hides in the darkest part of the living room waiting for you.

You turn on the lights and immediately head to the kitchen to drink a bottle of ice-cold water. Summer nights in Yorknew were hot and humid, almost unbearable. It felt like you were being suffocated. Becoming impatient, Hisoka clears his throat loudly causing you to nearly jump out of your skin; choking on the water you were drinking. He released a sexy chuckle. When you turned around, there stood your chiseled buff boyfriend bare with a ribbon tied in various directions around his body. Your birthday was two days ago and he was your gift. Although you have seen him like this before, for some reason you were too flustered to make a move. He already knew that you were tired from work, so he carried you in his arms to the Exercise Room and laid you gently on the floor. You smiled as a rush or passion took over your body resulting in you tearing off the ribbon tightly wrapped around his body. Since this was your birthday gift, he made it a night you’d remember forever! Surprisingly, no roughhousing, just soft and gentle. This proves that Hisoka has the capability of being humane. His strokes were to your liking and the gazes that you both exchanged were mind-blowing. Why couldn’t he be this way all the time? After it all, you fell asleep at her quickly. You were on the floor but now on top of your king-sized bed, with the message control on high. He stayed awake, watching TV, and thought about how he was going to pick a fight with you at the crack of dawn.

Hisoka’s ability to flirt and send the intended person swooning is a talent of itself. Lots of people do not possess this talent. Sometimes it's intentional and sometimes it's not. He speaks softly and smoothly, are he has to do is ask and it shall be done.

Illumi SFW

Illumi gives the impression that he is a “quiet” freak. This means that true enough he is focused on his job but if the moment comes along he will give in. He isn’t into PDA at all and if he does feel like showing some affection it will be done in private. Even though he appears to be a zombie, laying on or even cuddling with his significant other will help him relax for once. Imagine having to complete many missions in a day, exhausted, and have a wonderful person waiting to act as a human pillow for your weary head. Even Illumi can’t resist that.

If he likes you and plans to marry you, he will make that known to everyone to avoid confusion. Illumi represents the stereotypical shy boy; he is anti-social, prefers to only be around people he knows and trusts, and carries out the duties of his job.

After everything has been completed for the day, he wouldn’t mind ( and secretly begs) for silent cuddles with his significant other and to just fall asleep. At this point, you are used to it so this is all you want and you are satisfied. When he does talk, it’s usually about something he found out from work that he knows should be kept quiet but he tells you anyway. Late nights are the time of day where Illumi vents for a few hours. The details of these vent sessions could range anywhere from “I wish you were there to see it” to “No, it would be too much”. As quiet and reserve as he is, his love is shown in a unique way that you have grown accustomed to.

NSFW

When the urge slaps him across the face like a sack of rocks, he cannot resist. Usually, he fights off the urge by exercising (mainly because you are out of the house or sleep) but this time he couldn’t shake it.

Before he gets started with anything, he styles his long hair in the shape of a bun so it doesn’t get in the way of action.

Although he is portrayed to be an emotionless zombie, he has some feeling deep inside him that he unleashes just for you. This is shown by gentle moist kisses being placed along your neck and once he reaches your shoulder that is when you wake up. Halfway through your sleepy eyes, you see a man with a devilish smile painted across his face. Who is this man? This couldn’t be your boyfriend. No way, no how.

Once he sees your sleepy smile, he just releases so many kisses that you throw the blanket off and he pulls you in closer.

Illumi will allow you both to switch the roles meaning he is in charge one time and you are on another day. Since you were still asleep, he decided to take on the role. He is surprisingly gentle in the beginning but as soon as it takes off, your ride him like a donkey. It ironic; he releases more noises than you! You have to remind him that noise travels! Great, you’re doing your job well! While it is important to take your job seriously, you need to have time to release that stress.

He uses his large eyes to stare into yours; you always found yourself lost in his gaze.

After it all, you lay back down waiting for your boyfriend to return from the kitchen. Illumi craves food like crazy after a good session. What’s better than donuts at 3 AM? COMFORT FOOD!!

These urges also come when you two are training together. Several times he’s had to guide you from behind on how to aim his needles. This time you noticed the packing of his pants which surprised you.

“Any questions,” he asked in a monotone voice.

“Yes. Why did you wear jogging pants? You’re giving yourself away.”

It was at this moment, he knew he fucked up. But let’s be honest, ok? He is standing behind the most beautiful person in the world, nostrils full of perfume, hair tied up, and has his left hand placed loosely on your thigh?! What was he thinking by wearing jogging pants when he was with you? He acted as if he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“You really don’t know?”

You kicked your backside out against him causing him to fall to the ground.

“Wow! Your legs are like jelly!”

“Why tease me,” He asked breaking out a small smile.

“You’re the one denying it.”

“Just get to it. I can’t wait any longer or else I’ll explode.”

The quiet ones are always the freakiest.

[bi-bard]

I’m Not a Party Kind of Person- Malcolm Bright Imagine (Prodigal Son)

Title: I’m Not a Party Kind of Person

Pairing: Malcolm Bright X Reader

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 1,298 words

Warning(s): violence within the show’s canon

Summary: (Season 1, Episode 13) (Y/n) was intrigued by Malcolm Bright as soon as he started working with Gil’s team. They were basically best friends within a few days. However, during a new case, Malcolm isn’t blind to the danger that (Y/n) seems to jump into for him... and that makes him aware of so much more.

Author’s Note: I’m back to writing about Malcolm Bright too much.

Please consider supporting my Ko-fi account. It would mean a lot to me. If I know there are people interested in it, I’ll get the monthly donation part set up. 

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I put my hand over my mouth when I saw Malcolm step out of Gil’s car in an all-white suit. He looked at me before pointing at me.

“Not a word,” he said quietly as we all started walking.

“I was just gonna ask... Aziraphale, where’s Crowley,” I asked, chuckling at the look he gave me. “You can’t tell me that you weren’t expecting a Good Omens reference.”

“Miami Vice,” J.T shouted as he caught up with us.

“J.T, be nice,” Dani said.

“Thank you,” Malcolm nodded.

“So, were you able to kill James Bond or...,” she trailed off.

“I am definitely happy that I brought you along today,” Gil said with a smirk. 

We all walked into the crime scene. The body was lying in the middle of the room, an old gun sitting on the ground next to him. 

“Hello Edrisa,” Malcolm greeted.

“Hi Malcolm... sorry, Colonel,” she saluted at him. “I love your chicken.”

I gave her a high five as Malcolm examined the body and crime scene. I walked around the room, careful to avoid evidence, and looking for anything that could help me. Malcolm rambled about the Count of Monte Cristo and how this murder was exactly like the book. 

“Wait, what’s this-”

We all heard the click when Edrisa lifted the body.

“Edrisa,” Malcolm yelled, jumping over the desk and putting his hand on the bomb. I ran over and pulled Edrisa back, pretty much hugging her.

Tensions only went higher when there was another click.

“The bomb activated,” Malcolm explained. “As soon as I move my hand, it’s going to explode.”

“Bright, don’t move,” Gil said as a vest was slipped over Malcolm’s chest.

“Good thing I don’t have a hand tremor,” Malcolm sassed. 

“Are you making jokes,” Gil snapped back. 

I sighed before kneeling down across from Malcolm. He looked at me with wide eyes as I reached over and placed my hands over his.

“What are you doing,” he said. 

“You have a hand tremor, but with the increased weight, I can hold onto it even when your hand shakes,” I replied.

“You do realize that this is absolutely insane, right? It might not even work.”

I just looked at him for a moment before looking down at our hands. He stayed silent for a minute, studying me before rambling instructions off to the others in the room. 

“Please go,” he begged quietly as everyone started leaving the room. I shook my head. “(Y/n)-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I snapped. Malcolm nodded. “Now, what do we do?”

“I never said I had a plan-”

Malcolm was cut off by his phone ringing. He used one hand to grab it and answered it when he saw the caller ID.

“Are you serious,” I asked. He just gave me a shrug before talking. I tried to ignore the conversation for a while. “Is that your dad?”

“Who’s that,” I barely heard through the speaker. “Is that (Y/n)? They stayed with you while you were holding an explosive? They sound more amazing than you-”

“Bye,” Malcolm hung quickly. 

“So... that plan that you didn’t have,” I asked. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely.”

“You really shouldn’t,” he replied.

Before I could respond, Malcolm grabbed the gun, picked his hand up, and wrapped an arm around my waist so I would stand up with him. He shot the window out and dragged both of us out. I curled up, hoping my back would absorb most of the shock. I barely registered the explosive going off as we both landed on our backs on the top of a car... Gil’s car.

“Told you that you shouldn’t trust me,” Malcolm said after a few moments of shock. I looked over at him in silence for a moment before letting out a chuckle. 

“I think that proved the exact opposite,” I replied just as medics got over to us. Malcolm smiled at me. One of those post “I almost got myself killed but I still lived” smiles that I had grown accustomed to... but still wish I didn’t see so often. 

--Time Skip--

“So... you’re just going to sneak into a wedding that your mom’s invited to when she thinks you’re on vacation and accuse someone of murder,” I said. Malcolm nodded. “Wait, I’ll make it better... you’re accusing a woman that’s been presumed dead for years.”

“Yeah,” he nodded again.

“Oh my god,” I chuckled. 

We were waiting in a department store, waiting for Dani to put on a dress. They were going to the wedding to catch the killer. I was just moral support. I was seeing them off and then I was going home or back to the station.

“Go get changed,” he nodded back towards the changing rooms. 

“What?”

“Go get changed.”

“I’m not going.”

“Since when?”

“When was that the plan?”

“The whole time,” he said. “Go get changed.”

“I-”

“Go get changed,” he repeated, pushing me towards the dressing room, looking at the women in the shop. “Will you please help (Y/n) find something?”

“Sure,” she nodded before guiding me back. I glared at Malcolm over my shoulder. He waved at me and winked. I turned around, now blushing and nervous.

--Time Skip--

“You didn’t have to walk with me,” Malcolm said as we got closer to his apartment.

“I’m only a little bit further down the road,” I shrugged. “I could use the fresh air anyway... especially after tonight.”

He chuckled, nodding at me, “I guess so.”

He stopped in front of his door, looking up and taking a deep breath. I stood next to him. 

“You did a good job today,” I said. “I’m sorry I questioned your theory.”

“You were smart to,” he chuckled. “I suggested a dead person killed someone.”

“But you were right, like usual,” I replied. “I am just so happy to be done.”

“Hey, for what it’s worth, you look amazing,” Malcolm said. I looked down. 

“Barely,” I mumbled.

“What? You look great,” he insisted. There was a moment of silence. “Why did you stay with me?”

“Hmm?”

“At the first crime scene,” he explained. “Why did you stay with me when I found the explosive?”

“I... I don’t know.”

“But you do.”

“Malcolm,” I sighed. 

“You don’t just decide to do something like that,” he said. “So why?”

“I just... I like you. A lot.”

I felt like I was in middle school.  

He just looked at me in silence for a few moments, “I like you too.”

“But what about Dani,” I asked. He furrowed his eyebrows. “What about your feelings for Dani?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Malcolm said. “I really like you. I think you’re amazing.”

“Oh,” I mumbled. He chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” Malcolm shook his head. 

I just looked down for a moment before smiling at him. He stepped forward and cupped the side of my face. I felt my heart speeding up as I watch him move. He slowly got closer to me but stopped with only a few inches between us. I leaned forward, closing the space and kissing him gently. 

I pulled back a few moments later, smiling and chuckling quietly as our foreheads touched. Malcolm chuckled with me. 

“I should get home,” I said softly.

“Okay,” he replied before I stepped back. “Can we meet for breakfast tomorrow? My treat.”

“That sounds great.”

“Good,” he nodded, looking down nervously. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

Malcolm turned around to head into his apartment and I headed down the street. I had never felt so awake that late at night. Everything that had just happened had given me a whole new rush of adrenaline. I was buzzing. Absolutely buzzing... and it was the best feeling in the world.

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[unabashegirl]

#1 “Kings of Leon” HS

Author’s Note: First Harry Styles imagine! Hope you like it! Request are open!

--

He leans against the frame of the entrance of the living room. He was locked away in the office for a few hours, trying to write something down in his journal for the day. It was until he heard the faint sound of music playing that he decided to leave the room and investigate the source of the ruckus.

It was her. The music sounds too familiar to him as he walks down the hallway. Kings of Leon play loudly throughout the entire house. He had discovered that it was her favorite band after the first few dates. That day after lunch, they had decided to go for a walk. They ran into a small music store where Y/N bought a Kings of Leon vinyl. She then proceeded to invite Harry to her small apartment for some coffee and to listen to the record together.

Her appearance captivates him. She dances around the living room without a single care in the world. She only wears a simple t-shirt over her bikini. Her hair is down and still wet from her previous dip in the ocean. She is attempting to air-dry it. She also holds tightly to a tall glass of Pina colada and tries her best not to spill it on the hardwood floor of the house, but she is still not holding anything back. He can see the small bruise forming on the side of her thigh. Last night Y/N had turned off the lights before getting in bed and had walked into the corner of their bed. Harry had to turn the lights back on with the switch beside the bed to go tend her. 

It is only their second day in the Caribbean, but they have both already managed to burn. Jamaica will always hold a very special place in Harry’s heart. He has enjoyed showing Y/N the best places to eat and loved her reaction after they had gone snorkeling.  After being in Japan for so long, he had only desired to spend sometime under the sun and away from the real world especially with her. It also didn’t take much convincing to get Y/N on the plane. 

In one of her twirls her eyes land on Harry, who is only staring at her while enjoying the view of her careless self. 

“What are you doing?” She breathlessly asks as she stops moving while Pyro plays in the background. It was one of her favorites songs. Y/N pushes her hair away from her face, her cheeks are blushed which only entices him to approach and kiss each of them.

“Just heard the music” He honestly just wants her to go back to dancing. He relishes watching her when she isn’t looking. It is mesmerizing for him. He had even sneaked into her office once for a  few hours before lunch just to watch her work. He would just tell her that he needed to finish some lyrics for a song and pretend to write in his journal. He loves seeing how she knits her eyebrows when she reads over her emails or how she fiddles with her pen as she tries to remember what she was about to write on a post-it. 

“I am sorry if I interrupted you” She kinda feels bad and flustered. She knows how important writing time it’s for him. It wasn’t her intention to disturb him in his sacred time. It is his alone time and it helps him to put all his thoughts in one place whether they are bad or good. While Harry walks over to the small bar and pours himself a glass of whiskey, she turns down the music with her phone. When he chooses his drink, he heads back and sits on his usual seat. She just stands around. 

“No need to apologize, kitten” Y/N has the habit of apologizing for things that aren’t her actual fault especially when she is around him. She is just terrified to piss him off and for him to send her off. After all, there is nothing binding them together. They have no commitment to one another. They weren’t even formally dating per se. Even though Harry whispers that she is his every time he makes love to her. 

“Did you get to write anything tho?” She pulls on the back of her shirt, trying to cover some skin. He knows how nervous he makes her feel and he can only blame himself for it. They had met in a time when Harry was fragile due to his past relationship. It was a few weeks before his departure to Japan. He had already bought the tickets and his team had already organized everything for him. In the following weeks, they had multiple dates. She invited him to her hot yoga and spinning classes in the morning. They would usually go out for breakfast or lunch after. He grew accustomed to having her around. He asked her to accompany him to Japan three days before his departure.

“This is something you need to do on your own,” She said that day to him while she held him tightly. That was the day, Harry knew that she was so different from all the girls that he had even gone out with him. It wasn’t only because she wasn’t a model and she was just like any other person, but because she truly cared for his mental health. “You need to recover and I think this will do you good” Y/N said a few hours before his departure. He had stopped at her apartment before leaving. He wanted to tell her how much he liked her and to wait for him.

It wasn’t easy for Y/N. After all, he was leaving the country to write about his ex, who he was still in love with. She took a step back after his departure and let him do his own things. If it was meant to be, it would happen without her having anything to do with it. It certainly was because the first place that Harry went to when he arrived was her apartment.

“I did” He smiles as he reached out for her hand. It had been mostly about her and their long passionates nights on the island. “Are you hiding from me?” Harry asks as he pulls her on his lap. She nervously shakes her head as she settles each of legs on either side of him. “How was the water?” He runs his fingers over her skin noticing the little specks of salt on her brand new tan skin. Harry had stayed in for their usual sunset dip. He had fallen asleep after making love to her and devouring a giant bowl of fruit with her in bed.

“Warm and kinda lonely” She pouts, wrapping her free hand around his neck then leans over and places her drink on a table. 

“We can’t have that can’t we?” Y/N smiles and shakes her head at him as she gently pulls on the curls at the back of his head. The skin of his cheekbones is slightly burned making him more irresistible. She had tried to apply sunscreen on his face, but he kept making faces. It only distracted her and she ended just laughing at him “I guess I won’t ever leave yeh again” Harry leans in and kisses her jawline gently. He can still smell the faint aroma of her carrot tanning lotion on her skin.  

She enjoys the coolness of his rings pressed against her bare lower back. She runs her hands on his chest noticing the soft material of the shirt that he has on. The living room slide doors are opened allowing the sound of the waves crashing soothe them along with the faint sound of her favorite band.

“I need to tell yeh something” he mumbles against her the salty skin of her neck. She immediately tenses up and goes cold. A million thoughts run through her head. Harry pulls away wanting to see her reaction. He takes a sip out of his drink and leans back on his seat. He still grips her hip in place wanting to keep some kind of content with her.

“What is it?” She gulps, silently playing that he wasn’t dumping her or sending her away.

“I first have to confess something. I told you I liked you before I left for Japan, do yeh remember?” Y/N nods along too scared to say something. She also feels like she was about to be sick. It might have to do something about the amount of rum that it’s running through her veins. “I was actually not sure if I did. I was hesitant. We had just met and I was leaving for a long time. I didn’t want to lose you. I lied”

“Why are you tell me all of this now?” She frowns not comprehending where he is going with this or what he is trying to tell her.

“For us to have a healthy relationship. I have to be honest with yeh from starters. We can’t build a relationship based on lies” He explains hoping she would get what he is trying to say and catch up.

“In that case, I actually didn’t lose your sweater” she confesses, “It's actually in my closet at home. It just reminds me of you” Harry laughs lightly showing her his pearly whites.

“I know babe” A few days ago he had seen it in her closet. “I think that you are absolutely beautiful inside out. I love how much you worry about little things, how you sing in the shower, how much you take care of your plants and even how your lips still taste like pineapple when I kiss them” he jokes at the end. He tries to keep it short even though there are still a million things he can mention about her.  “I guess I am trying t’ say is that you are worth having my heart broken a thousand times more if that means that I get to be around yeh” He watches as a wide smile appears across her face. She presses her lips against his. 

“Would you be my girlfriend?” She doesn’t say much but just repeatedly pecks her lips. Y/N was starting to grow impatient. She was starting to believe that their relationship would never move forward and she would remain to be just a friend who he occasionally has sex with until he found a girlfriend. 

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, silly” she giggles then proceeds to peck the tip of his nose. “I thought you were going to send me home for a minute” Y/N admits as she presses a hand against her chest. 

“No. You’re stuck with me now”  He is so infatuated with her that it wouldn’t surprise him if he tells her he loves her before the trip ends, but that is another story. 

[smolbeandrabbles]

Try It On, Take It Off - Orson Krennic x Reader (Rogue One)

100 Sentence Challenge Request

Orson Krennic + 95 -  “Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween.” Requested by @mysticaltimemachinewench

Author’s Note: Roll with the idea of Halloween and October 31st being things in the Star Wars universe just for this fic, please! This boy is so whiny, I spent all week writing for him last week and he’s still like “write more!” so, I thought I’d post one. It’s because he’s all the bottom of my drafts now I’m sure of it. Boots & Boys - Kesha  Okay, so I was looking for songs to do with dressing up. And I found a bunch of cute love songs about wearing your SOs clothing, but... This one is fun and I needed fun for the premise-!

Disclaimer: Rogue One Characters/SW Universe not mine. / Requested  premise / lyrics & gifs not mine.

Premise: Every Halloween it’s the same thing, and Krennic is sick of people dressing like him. This year he’s determined to get to the bottom of things...

Words: 2010

Warnings: Swearing / Sexual connotations/Pre-Amble

_____

Think it's time that I mention I've got myself an obsession For the smell, for the touch I know I've got myself a habit But I gotta have it now I don't care where, work it out Let me break it down I try it on, I take it off So what you got? Something 'bout boots and boys They bring me so much joy I gotta say I wear 'em both so pretty as I walk in the city Give me boots and boys I'm keeping quite the collection Take nothing less than perfection My men drop beats like a bomb Wind me up, spin me round Oh, lookie what I found (ooh!) I'm crazy for you, crazy for you Hey hey, whatcha looking at? Hey hey, something you can't have They've got me looking rad You feeling that?

---

October 31st was always a date Krennic hated seeing in his calendar. The Death Star had not been a project spanning months by any stretch of the imagination. Orson was many, many years into this – and he was now accustomed to his workers Halloween traditions. He couldn’t say it wasn’t one of the reasons he was glad that it was nearing completion. That, and he might finally get the recognition he deserved. At least for now he had you. Given, you were relatively new to the project when he looked at the timeline as a whole, but you were certainly a necessary piece – and Krennic actually liked you. A lot of the other employees, if he were honest with himself, he actually could have done without. Which is probably why you’d grown close – and then maybe a little too close. But Orson wasn’t going back on that now. This was the day Krennic didn’t want to leave his office – inevitably, it was also the day that everyone would have him chasing all over the structure. Why? Oh, because they all knew how much he hated today too! So as soon as the email pinged in from the other side of the Death Star, Krennic tried everything he could to get them to come to him, or to send him documents, pictures, anything that meant he didn’t have to go on an annoyingly long walk. Orson used practically every persuasive trick in the book, to no avail. Eventually he had to concede rising from his desk, sighing angrily, and gathering his things to head to the problem. Almost immediately he was assaulted with the kind of visuals he’d become accustomed to. It seemed every other person on this damned vessel took today to dress up as him. Now, whilst dressing in the full white Intelligence Bureau tunic would have been against protocol and would have meant he could reprimand them, everyone decided to wear capes of various different colours instead. Some, like his, matched their uniforms – and if it wasn’t also for the fact they copied the way he walked and carried himself, with an unconvincing attempt at his accent and speech patterns, he’d find it quite tasteful. Krennic would almost be flattered, he supposed - perhaps even feel like a trend setter – had the crew not being doing it for any other reason than to mock him. God forbid any of them attempt Lexrulian; one day it was going to make his ears bleed. Others decided to wear their ‘capes’ in the gaudiest colours imaginable, and sometimes Orson felt like he was going to be physically ill just staring at them.

Still, technically all of this was against regulation – and although he probably couldn’t take on the entire staff and win, he took pleasure in chastising those he disliked most. “Isn’t that a little against your uniform regulation?” “Take that off now – before I have you reported.” “Next time I catch you in something like this, you’re off the project.” Annoyingly, he could never keep how irked he was out of his voice – and they took great joy out of that, and never bothered hiding it. When they did take these ridiculous attempts at mocking him off (Though it worked. He supposed.), Krennic knew they’d be pulled back on before he rounded the next corner – but for now at least, Orson could be smug in his little bit of power. The fact he could actually force the crew to remove them. He often pondered how this started. Tarkin, he had no doubt. Krennic wasn’t going to blame himself after all, he knew his uniform looked damn good. He just wasn’t fool enough to think this was respectful admiration. Eventually he reached the person who emailed him and, as predicted, it was an easy fix that Krennic could have done in less than five minutes on his tablet back in his office. The Director almost punished them on the spot for that, but by this time was already too pissed off with the situation to trust himself not to lose complete control. Not that that didn’t happen a lot, especially when everything was stalling – but today that was what everyone wanted. ‘If I see another bad attempt at ridiculing my uniform I’ll scream…’  Orson’s jaw was beginning to ache with the way he was tightening it. Half way back to his office, Krennic took a detour. By now he really was yelling at people – Orson was this close to drawing weapons and kicking them off the station, Project Stardust be damned. Desperately seeking respite, he wandered back to his quarters and as the corridors began to quieten, scuffled along in his boots, sulking. ‘What did I ever do to deserve this-!?’ Reaching the door to his room, Krennic gave a small smile – he would receive relief in here. Well at least she will be sweet... I can tell her my frustrations and she’ll sympathize… As Krennic keyed himself in and the door slid open, he realised just how wrong he could be. You were walking up and down the main room and studying yourself in about every reflective surface you could find. If this wasn’t you, Krennic would have blown it, and immediately all his irritations came flooding back. You were, of course – with access to his wardrobe - pacing around in his uniform. Full Intelligence white, rank bar included. Sure, the sleeves were rolled up – which pained him because it’d take an age to get those creases out - and the cape was a little long for you, but, you had the whole thing on, right down to the boots. Usually Krennic might smirk and call you out on wearing his clothes, after all you did look good in his tailored shirts. Any other day of the week he’d probably be pretty turned on right now. But NOT today. As the door slid closed behind him and beeped locked, you whirled around. The cape moved with you and your eyes fell to it; immediately distracted. Krennic’s uniform was gorgeous on him, but the feeling of power you got when wearing it for yourself was indescribable. You liked running your hands over it – the feeling of the fabric between your fingers very nearly bordering obsessive with your need to do it at every chance you could; it was so perfectly weighted that, in all honesty, the tailoring was a marvel to you. You always made a mental note to thank the designers and sewers for their impeccable work. (On Orson’s entire wardrobe, actually.) “Director.” You presented yourself and looked back to him, “What do you think?” Orson very nearly shivered, and if he wasn’t so pissed he’d probably have let himself. That was Lexrulian – and compared to everything else he’d heard today, was very nearly music to his ears. “What are you doing-!?” There was a snap in the undertone of his voice – agitated, to match the way his jaw tightened. You answered cheerily, nonetheless. “It’s Halloween. So, I’m you! I mean you could be me if you wanted, but I’m not sure the uniform would fit-!” You giggled slightly at the mental image of him in your tight black jacket – no, maybe it wouldn’t fit properly, but it might look really good. If only for a second. Although Krennic was glaring at you by now. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, is all this YOUR idea-!?” For a moment you looked innocent, “No! You mean the fact everyone else does it? I didn’t start it, but I felt I could damn well finish it. Besides, LOOK!, I can do it better than everyone else!” “No! No! Y/N-!” You scrambled up onto the table, and cleared your throat. It was clear to Krennic you’d been practicing, because you had his stance down and his mannerisms almost perfect. He was almost impressed. “The POWER we are dealing with here is immeasurable! Single reactor ignition would be just an inkling of it’s true destructive potential! And I will not fail!” He blinked slowly, thinking you were mixing up at least three of his previous conversations there. There was a long pause before Krennic stepped forward, pointing at you. “GET. DOWN! Do you have any idea how expensive that table was-!?” “Awwww, Orson, c’mon!!” “I’m NOT impressed, GET DOWN!” “Baaabe.” “Don’t whine..!” You backed up just out of his reach, even your best innocent eyes weren’t saving you today – he must have been furious. “But it took me so long, I’ve tried on all the variants, I tried on your dress uniform even-! And it isn’t complete without the cape, and the rain one doesn’t have a patch on the glory of this one!! I thought it wouldn’t drag if I put on my heeled boots, but that didn’t get the look right either! And it’s you – so, it had to be perfect…” Your eyes glittered gently as you tried to plead with him, “I thought if I did it properly, it might make you smile. That it might be more… respectful. I dunno I-” He cut you off, demanding, “OFF. THE. TABLE.” “Well, what are you gonna do-!?!” Krennic was quick on his feet, and even though you’d backed yourself up he still managed to grab your wrist and drag you down. You might have been in his uniform, but you were nowhere near his height; and you might have had his traits down, but you didn’t have his strength either. Meaning within seconds he had you shoved up against a wall – with a squeak – before his lips were on yours, wrists pinned by your sides. He might have been angry, but that only made this kiss hotter, and you practically melted into him. Orson was showing you absolutely no mercy – and you weren’t sure if you really deserved it, but you were at least a little glad of it. Eventually he pulled away from you; leaving you gasping and panting for breath. But you whined, wanting more from him. “Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween.” Krennic had, many a time. Which is one of the reasons you wanted to do this, because he might feel a little better if you were doing it right. Clearly you were in the wrong ballpark. You thought about nodding in admittance, but thought maybe continuing to be playful would get you what you wanted. “Don’t think you did – maybe you did. You should remind me.” “Oh, I think I will.” His smirk was back as you let him run his hands through the fastenings of the tunic and unzip your pants. Oh, yeah, he wanted this uniform off bad. You bit your lip, “It does look sexy on you though, is it surprising everyone wants to copy it? I mean I like trying it on and taking it off.” Orson nipped your neck, eliciting a gasp from you; “Evidently I might too.” Then he chuckled at your sigh, running his hands over your warm skin, “That doesn’t make me hate today any less. I mean it’s hardly tribute, is it?” You tipped your head, “I mean, I tried.” “Oh, don’t think I didn’t hear that mocking tone.” He grazed his lips to yours, and it was hardly rewarding, you pined for more but he held you away from him – still immobilized against the wall, “Still, I’ll admit so much… you do look very pretty in white.” You did very nearly blush, but knew that his mind wouldn’t be going to something as virtuous as weddings or dresses; probably a different kind of white lace altogether. “Can I keep the cape at least?” Maybe he’d enjoy you wearing that and very little else. That would be like a ‘sexy’ Halloween costume, would it not? Even if it was just for him. Maybe that’s what Krennic needed if he detested today so much. He growled, kissing you again before you let him slide the jacket from your shoulders and it fell to the floor; “If you’re good, we’ll see.”

--- Thank you very much for reading! It’s been a while since Krennic has been posted too, I’ll admit! 🙏❤

2/16 down!

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 6: A colourless world (Part 5)

Warnings: none

Author notes: I have to admit, that part was very fun to write...! I hope you enjoy reading it...!

Notes 2: Tumblr is back! Thank goodness...

The office seemed empty without Dazai procrastinating and whining at his desk. While the both of us had been exchanging about greed and desires last night, the armoury of the Port Mafia had been attacked by strange people, and he had left to investigate. Hirotsu-san, the leader of the Black Lizards, had notified the headquarters about the attack, and my superior had decided to take a look himself. I wondered if it was a good idea to stay there... He had not wanted me to accompany him, much to my disappointment. However, it was not as if I did not have a task myself; reports would not fill themselves alone and files would not get classified by themselves. I at least had to be useful to him there, and, thus, sat down at his desk and grabbed one of his pens.

The room appeared different from this point of view. His leather chair, when he was sitting there, had never seemed this big in my opinion. It was strange, how small my back was compared to his... The whole office seemed wider, in fact, and the desk looked larger. This was the view of an executive... This was how Dazai saw his subordinates... I smiled slightly. I had surely often appeared insignificant in his eyes, back then... And the couch where he allowed me to sleep... It was the one in his field of view.

"What could you be thinking, Dazai...?" I murmured, grazing my fingers against the polished wood of the desk.

"Oi bandage freak, you there...?!" A loud voice made me jump in surprise.

My superior's partner burst into the room, barking as usual and his hands full of new files and papers. I immediately stood up, a heavy blush coating my cheeks, and bowed before him to greet him.

"Nakahara-san...!"

"Ogawa-kun...?" He instantly calmed down "Where's your incompetent executive? Oh, could it be, you replace him? Tell me he got demoted..."

"This isn't nice, Nakahara-san..." I noted before clearing my throat and regaining my composure "Dazai-san left earlier for an inspection of the Mafia's armoury, or, more specifically, its guards. They've been taken down by an armed group."

"Aren't you with him? That's unusual, since that day..."

I knew what he meant. Dazai would rarely leave me alone at all, ever since I had almost died, and even more since I had promised to be by his side.

"I do not question his choices. Besides, he has entrusted me with the paperwork." I said.

"Paperwork... Well, I wanted to discuss something with him. Since he isn't here, there is no helping it..." He sighed.

Despite his loud voice and harsh words, Nakahara-san was better a person than he wanted to seem. Moreover, Dazai always managed to bother him, somehow, so his short temper was not entirely his fault...

"I can tell him about this matter, if you'd like." I suggested.

"Oh, excellent idea...!" His face lit up "Come with me."

"I-I'm sorry, I meant —"

"I know what you meant. But it's lunch time and I'm starving. Mind talking about this case while eating?" He offered.

"I'm not sure... Nakahara-san, you surely have more important people to deal with... I am a mere lieutenant and do not even belong to your squadron..." I defended.

"A mere lieutenant?" He scoffed "You know he has a second in command, but you have more responsibilities than him..."

"Do I...?" I frowned, imagining that man whimpering and crying desperately at his desk.

"You do. You even got invited to the Boss' party. Even if it was just to test your ability, it means you seemed important enough to him. So, do you feel worthy enough to have lunch with me?" He asked, slightly impatient.

"If I do not accept..." I started, taking my coat to follow him "If I do not accept, you will come back when Dazai-san is there, and it will end up with him pushing you off-limits again... Besides, I have to find a way and repay you for asking the nurse to come, last time..."

"There is no need to. And... Are you implying I easily lose my composure?" He raised an eyebrow as I closed the door behind us.

"Who knows..." I chuckled "But that's also why he likes being a bother to you."

"Doesn't he like being a bother to everyone he meets?" He rolled his eyes.

"Without a doubt, Dazai-san seems to take pleasure in messing around with people. However... I believe there is something else to this..." I admitted.

"Something else...? He's just an asshole. I believe he started acting carefree around you too, despite everything he made you go through..." He snarled.

"You always seem negative about Dazai-san... But you are his partner; you might know him better than I do..." I conceded.

"I fear not..." He sighed "Why is it that you trust him so much? He is not worthy of this feeling..."

"How would you feel if your own subordinates did not believe in you, Nakahara-san?" I simply answered "As his lieutenant, that's the least I can do; trusting him. And as... As a person who respects him and cares about him, that's an obvious thing to do. Dazai-san is everything I want to live for..."

"I'm glad for him." The executive patted my shoulder "That he has someone reliable... It's a good thing."

"Nakahara-san... You do not actually hate him, do you?"

"I do!! He's the worst!! I'm only waiting for the opportunity to kill him." He huffed.

"You had plenty of opportunities... Yet, he is still alive." I smiled.

"The Port Mafia still needs his lazy ass, that's why..." He grumbled "Anyway, where am I going to take you to...?"

"If I may... Not to a fancy place, please..." I looked away.

"Right. Let's just grab something quick to eat then." He declared.

It was then that I noticed I was slightly taller than him when wearing heels.

I contemplated the white tablecloth before my eyes, and the delicate silverware at each side of my plate, the latter containing a most refined and colourful dish. Obviously, it was french cuisine... I wondered what kind of luxurious products the chef had used to make something which smelled and looked so tasty. However...

"Nakahara-san... May I ask what a fancy place is for you...?" I uncomfortably seized my fork.

"I don't understand, Ogawa-kun. There are only salarymen around us, thus, that's not a fancy place." He defended, taking a bite of his own dish.

"... I doubt they are mere salarymen..." I commented, noting their tailored suit and Italian shoes.

"Well... We don't stand out. You don't need to be embarrassed. Now, about the mission..."

I wondered if this executive had the same vision of the world as me. Apparently, he did not, yet I could not help scolding myself internally. I had guessed from the beginning that I would end up in such a place... Nakahara-san's low class was comparable to my own high class, after all...

Even so, having gotten accustomed to the unusual atmosphere, I could listen to him without further trouble, and took notes of the future mission given to him and Dazai, so I could report everything to my superior. It was yet another case of corruption and politicians; nothing too surprising so far. Our talk was easily covered by the brouhaha of the restaurant room, allowing us to keep the secret of our activities easily, without being suspicious at all. Besides, I doubted all the salarymen around us had clean business as well...

My phone suddenly rang, interrupting the end of our lunch. It could only be one person...

"My apologies." I took it out of my pocket "It's Dazai-san..."

I went outside to hear him better.

"Ogawa, am I disturbing you?"

"Not at all...!" I said "Is there a problem...?"

"I'm done with the corpses. The men who did this... They are the same who attacked us yesterday." He told me "If possible, I'd like you to reach me."

"Yes, Dazai. Where are you?" I smiled.

"The docks."

"Alright. I'm coming then." I assured before hanging up.

"Well, it can't be helped." Nakahara-san came out from the restaurant "There, your coat. You forgot it."

"Thank you. But, um... How much do I owe you...?" I hesitated, feeling incredibly awkward that he had paid while I was out.

"You? Don't worry! If anyone has to pay me back, it'll be that suicidal freak!" He laughed "By the way... You call him only 'Dazai', eh~?"

"Th-That's not..." I blushed "That's not what you think..."

"I don't think anything~ Now, you shouldn't make your incompetent executive wait too much. He's expecting you, isn't he?"

"Yes, Nakahara-san. Thank you again." I bowed, then quickly walked away.

Kind people in the Port Mafia... Perhaps had I been blinded by despair, back then, to the point I had never seen the hands held out toward me. Now that I thought about it, Nakahara-san had been the first to worry about me when I had killed my parents, and the first to mention my addiction. Well, he really was someone better than expected.

[matildainmotion]

The Monstrous Shame of Motherhood and the Quest for a Cure

I feel exhausted. Even-more-than-usual exhausted. Whoever knew that staying at home could be so incredibly tiring. We have our daily outings – mainly to the golf course, which is the nearest green we have. The other evening, when we had finally made it out the house, and the children were running ahead of me across the fitted-carpet grass, I had a thought: “Maybe it will be okay,” and instantly I wanted to cry. It wasn’t a thought only about the pandemic. It was about the lot: the pandemic, plus how to get an autism diagnosis for my son that supports him, plus my 78 year old mother staying well, plus my husband’s work and the theatre community surviving in a post-Covid world, plus managing to finish my book, plus both my children’s long term futures, plus the world’s long term future and climate change, plus racial inequality, plus economic inequality, plus gender inequality, plus, plus…..

In that moment I realised that a kind of deep worry is such a constant for me now that I have grown accustomed to it, so that it is like the planes that used to fly over our house in London – a noise so familiar that after a while I no longer hear it, and yet it is there, every few minutes, unnoticed, another monstrous metal groan. And when it stops - when the planes stay down, when the worries lift up - the sudden silence is startling, enough to make me cry. But – here’s the thing- thanks to the lockdown I have realised that it isn’t just worry to which I have grown accustomed in this way. There is something else, even more monstrous, which it has taken me a long time to name – and its name is shame.

I believe the shame comes from a thousand ‘shoulds,’ from the many things I feel I should be doing as a mother and am not.  Motherhood, along with the paraphernalia of nappies, wipes and purees, comes with a huge bundle of shoulds. The very first thing I did, nine years ago now, on discovering that I was pregnant, was to rush out to Waterstones and buy a book on what I should and shouldn’t eat during the next nine months– and that was only the beginning. The shoulds come from everywhere, a mountain of well-meant advice, not only from books, but from doctors, midwives, family members, partners, friends, other mothers, even complete strangers. I remember standing in a shop queue with my three-week-old son in a sling, when the woman behind me leant forward and touched one of his toes. “Where’s his socks?” she said, “He’ll catch his death of cold.” On the one hand I felt reasonably confident that carrying my son around sock-less was not going to endanger his life, on the other, as a brand new mother, I was nonetheless shaken by the idea that my son’s survival was up to me, and that many different people had many different ideas about how best I should fulfil my role of raising and protecting him. At times, even my instinct, that famous maternal inner guide, seemed like a mysterious thing that someone else had told me I should follow.

Mothers Who Make began, in part, as a response to all these shoulds. When I went along to the new mother and baby groups, that I also believed to be obligatory, I noticed a distressing pattern. All too often we were simply swapping ‘shoulds’ with each other and coming away feeling worse than when we arrived. No place or position was safe: I met mothers who felt they should be breastfeeding, mothers who felt the need to put a label saying ‘breastmilk’ on the bottle they fed their baby in public, as well as mothers who felt they should be weaning their baby and moving rapidly onto solids. I met mothers who felt bad about co-sleeping and mothers who felt bad about not doing so. In those early days of mothering - when you should be feeling overjoyed - there are even charts that tell you what should be happening when, how much your child should weigh, by when they should be making eye contact etc. It is not that these charts are entirely unhelpful or inaccurate, but they certainly encouraged my constant questioning: is my child okay? Am I okay? Am I doing this right? And if I thought I wasn’t, if I was not doing what I should, I felt ashamed.

I have felt many parallels between lockdown and early motherhood – the sudden cessation of all usual activity, the focus on ‘intensive care’ and care-taking, the washing, the sense of vulnerability, the way leaving the house seems like an epic adventure, the isolation and longing for connection. And, as in early motherhood, our diverse lives are again apparently aligned. We are all in the same situation: all the mothers in those baby groups had a new born / all the mothers I know now are in lockdown due to a pandemic. This makes comparison seem possible, even appropriate. There is a set of scales around again – I weigh our lives on it and find myself at fault.

Let me give you a small sample of some of the shoulds that fly low over my home, through my mind, like aeroplanes, a few of the many that I have collected over my nine years of mothering. I should get my children to bed earlier. I should give them less screen time, or it shouldn’t happen first thing in the morning, or I should manage the whole issue of screens in a better, different way. I should give them less choice about what they eat. I should make sure they eat more fresh foods and less sugar. I should make them help around the house more. I should hold the structure of the day better. I should make sure everyone stays at the table when we’re eating. I should take steps towards weaning my daughter. I should never resort to threats – to the ‘if you don’t stop x, you won’t get y’ pattern. And so on and so forth – you get the gist. And because I do not do these things - and I imagine a thousand other mothers who are doing them wonderfully - I feel ashamed. I realise as I write this that my ‘shoulds,’ as listed here, are nice, white, middle class ones- signs of privilege. Shame is a heavy word and it is associated with far darker things than letting your kids watch too much telly. I want to acknowledge that my issues are trifling compared to those many have to navigate, but shame, whatever the context, is still shame and it is powerful. As someone who was once anorexic, I know that shame can sit alongside privilege and that, where present, it undermines the ease of even the most comfortable life.

Back in Jan 2019 I wrote a blog about guilt. I now think I was muddling up some of my guilt and my shame. In general, I feel guilty about specific instances that have an immediate, present moment, ground-level reality: I shouted at my son when he blasted water over the bathroom with the shower head and that triggered one of his big, aggressive rages. If I feel guilty about something, I can say sorry about it, to the person or people I have wronged, and then it’s over. Shame, for me, is more like the ongoing aeroplanes, it is long term - a long haul flight. On the bad days, motherhood seems like a very lengthy exam, the end of it still twenty years away. My children are not the examiners – certainly not for now – they are the results. Depending on how the children turn out, I will pass or fail. There are external examiners, keeping track, making notes, of all the things I am doing or not doing. And who are they, these examiners? I think, somewhere in my psyche, there is an impressive panel of them, made up of everyone who has ever shared ‘a should’ with me, from the author of the book on what to eat during pregnancy, to the woman in the queue who wanted my son to be in socks, to the many other authors, friends and strangers who have offered me advice - they are all sitting there, scribbling on their notepads, shaking their heads. They are not bad people. Many of them are people for whom I have enormous respect, which makes it worse. I believe in their advice – seriously, I should be following it.

In my blog on guilt, I found my guilt a figure – made it into an image that helped me connect to the things that mattered to me, lying underneath the guilt. It turned out to be a Mary Poppins-like character, flying a kite. I think my shame has a very different form. There is the panel of judges, frowning from a distance, and then there is the shame herself, much closer in, and, like the sound of the low-flying planes, she’s monstrous.

My son’s latest obsession is the Beast Quest books (he has moved on from My Little Pony - woe betide you if you mention his former interest to him). There are over a hundred Beast Quest books, all with the same basic formula – boy meets monster. Giant birds, snakes, insects, spiders, bears, apes, hounds, trolls, ogres, dragons – you name your flavour of nightmarish monster, it will be there. I am glad to say there is a reasonable spread of gender representations across the monsters – sadly none of them are trans but there are some mothers. My ‘shame monster’ is definitely a mother. She is immense, stinking, gruesome and green. Her roar is the soundtrack of my days, to which I have grown accustomed. In some of the Beast Quest books the beasts are evil and must be destroyed, but in some they are good, set under an evil curse, from which they must be freed. I think my monstrous shame mother is one of these – good at heart but under pressure, after years of judgement, she has turned malevolent. And here is the irony: I believe her malevolent aspect has a more toxic impact on my children and our household, than any of the things such as screen time, sugar, late nights, unstructured days, which have driven her into this terrible state. Her constant growling makes me tense, fractious and very, very tired. I don’t think I can go on like this. So, what to do? How to release her from the curse? And who would she be without it?

Often the opposite of shame is presented as pride. But I think pride too is problematic – the panel of judges, external examiners, is still present in the dynamic, it’s just that they are giving out good marks instead of bad. So, if the shame-beast, when transformed, does not turn into the proud mother, who does she become?

As ever, when I am wrangling with a question in my mothering, I look to my making for answers. Throughout the lockdown I have been writing whenever I can. Always, when the children are having their screen time. Often, when I should be getting them dressed, or focussing on making us breakfast, or preparing them for bed. I don’t write because I should. I write because I want to do it, because it helps me give things meaning, because it brings me joy. I think back to that teary moment on the golf course, watching the children run ahead of me over the grass. What made the worry lift, the planes stop, the monster turn out good? Yes, I think it was a moment of joy. I think, when the gory green monster is not sweating with shame, she is lit up with joy.

So much, so often, is laid at the mother’s door. On the one hand we are ‘just’ being mums, with minimal status, doing an insignificant job, and on the other, we are accorded huge significance – everything can be traced back to us, to our care or the lack of it, our early influence. I do not wish to deny our responsibility as mothers, but I do not believe our shame helps us to shoulder it, or that we should shoulder it alone. When I started Mothers Who Make I wanted it to be a held peer-support space where women could share their challenges without shame, and celebrate, even cultivate, their joy. I wanted to create a group in which we did not find further fault, did not inadvertently end up undermining or judging one another, adding to the great big bundles of shoulds already carried. It is why it is still vital to me that we welcome every kind of mother – breastfeeding, bottle-feeding, those who keep their mothering and their making strictly separate, those who take their children to work – every kind. It is also the same impulse that lies behind our Matronage scheme. Rather than a panel of judges telling us whether or not we are worthy, I want to see whether we can hold each other up. We have been asking people to become our ‘Matron Saints’ by giving us the price of a coffee a month - £3. We need 300 of you to become self-sustaining. So far we have a fantastic 99! Once we reach 100, I am going to announce a new project in celebration– a way, I hope, to keep the same ethos of grassroots peer-support alive and kicking – kicking off the shoulds, turning them into wishes and dreams.

And in the meantime, whilst you are all rushing to bring us over the 100 Matron Saint mark, (go here to do so: www.motherswhomake.org) these are your questions for the month: as a mother and/ or as a maker what are the ‘shoulds’ and ‘should nots’ you carry around with you? Do your ‘shoulds’ turn into shame? And then- as an antidote to this -what brings you joy? In your mothering? In your making? As we slowly emerge out of this pandemic, can you do more of this? Can you create a more shameless world? Can you help make the monsters joyful?

[arcanalogue]

On Keeping Important Things To Yourself, Or: ‘The Revelation Will Not Be Instagrammed’

I had a really profound experience this past weekend, while staying out in the desert with friends. In fact, it was the kind I might even capitalize: a Profound Experience!

(Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell you about it!)

Naturally though, I cataloged the entire thing, writing notes to myself so I wouldn’t forget a single detail. And before we’d even returned home, I was well into the “research” phase of the Profound Experience, tumbling down Wikipedia rabbit-holes in search of terminology, precedents, areas of overlap with others’ Profound Experiences, established traditions that might explain what had happened and (perhaps most importantly) tell me what to do about it. 

It’s an exhilarating feeling, that research phase, uncovering the vastly interconnected nature of our history, our cultures, our entire reality. You can’t just pull one thread, the whole fabric comes with it. Before the internet, this would have taken weeks. 

But even after a couple days of trying to pin this Experience down, I was getting tired and frustrated. I’d only spent a few minutes having the Experience in the first place, and now I’d gorged myself on all this additional context. It was began keeping me from being able to recall the Experience purely, as it had happened. Why was I doing this to myself??

Fortunately, in my groping I stumbled across this article about the Tao Te Ching, which commented:

"’The unnameable is the eternally real. Naming is the origin of all particular things.’ The second line of Mitchell's translation opens up the nature of the dysfunction. We're accustomed to perceiving our world and all the objects in it by naming them. But what if we stop obsessively naming everything and instead just — pardon me while I slip in to full on hippy mode for a moment — rest in awareness?

What the Tao Te Ching does, time and time again, is attempt to show us how we might see things if we could spend more time in awareness, and less in naming. ‘Practice not-doing, and everything will fall into place.’"

To my tired brain, reading this felt like cool water splashed across a hot sidewalk, making it passable for tender bare feet. (I grew up in the desert, I’m not just a tourist!)

So I closed all of my Wikipedia tabs, and went for a walk outside in the afternoon sunshine. I wanted to see if I could feel the Experience, become illuminated by it once again, even faintly, and grasp its truth just as closely, just as palpably, simply by relaxing my focus instead of straining toward it. 

Not only was this successful, but walking with this glow unexpectedly reminded me of my ultimate purpose as a diviner. 

We find messages. We find meanings. That is the work of a diviner. We must always strive to embody that quality, whether we’re searching on behalf of ourselves or others. 

I find messages. I find meanings. Not everybody does, but I do, and always have. Powerful words and images make their way to me, as if by magic. Interpreting them is something that comes after; first you have to find them, recognize them. 

Messages don’t always come with a calling card or ingredients list attached. It’s not always clear who or what is speaking, or whether the face we see is a mask worn by something else. It probably is! Just assume it is. 

But we care about getting these things right, about being in harmony with all the forces out there which are greater than ourselves (which is nearly everything, kids). And the part of our mind that’s anchored to this world, this time and place, craves to know things and do things. Without something to know or to do, we can get very restless and grumpy indeed.

And have you noticed? There’s a tendency among mystical types to attempt speaking with authority, to draw oneself up to an impressive (yet still #humble) height and declare: “I am a practitioner of [insert tradition here], and/or a worshiper of [insert entity], who speaks to/through me.” There are certainly material benefits to behaving this way. Certainty confers trust, and trust leads to faith, and faith — whether in a belief or a person — is a lucrative business. 

This is why we spiritual and occult weirdos (especially white folks, most of whom weren’t born into a tradition that provides context for our Profound Experiences) end up relentlessly sniffing out the pedigree of our own gnosis, sort of like how Mormon moms go overboard with geneaology. 

The message itself ends up tucked away a drawer, almost secondary to the quest for unassailable authority in determining its authorship, which also ultimately determines its audience. But... and I ask this sincerely... who cares?

I’m not faulting this instinct of ours. How could it be otherwise? We’re a bunch of lonely, hallucinating apes who want to feel understood. Which is why I try not to look askance at others’ work, or weigh my methods or Experiences against theirs. What would be the point? 

I feel the same way about labels related to magical practice. There are times when we urgently feel the need to name ourselves, claim a title that we can then labor to live up to. But almost immediately we discover the limitations of these labels. I love thinking of myself as a witch... so many enticing connotations! Right up to the moment when someone else refers to me as a witch, and then I feel the seriousness and specificity of what I’m attempting is undermined, since “witch” and “witchcraft” can be applied to nearly anyone and anything. I’m more than this word, dammit. At times, I’m something else altogether. 

But the word itself isn’t the problem, the act of naming is. 

Consider this post is a message in a bottle to you, whomever may be reading. Just as there is power in naming things, there can be even greater power in NOT naming things. This is the meatiest kernel of truth contained in the Powers of the Sphinx, that old chestnut of Western occultism: “To Know, To Dare, To Will, and To Keep Silent.” 

Silence is a necessary component of reflection, and reflection is a necessary component of divination.

One of the things I’ve discovered along this journey is that the qualities that make a good diviner don’t necessarily lend themselves to crafting an exciting or successful web/social media presence. We end up performing what we know, polishing our thoughts and expressions into nice, glossy, digestible packages. That’s a useful skill to have! But it’s also a short leap from there to only valuing the kinds of experiences that lend themselves to being shared, slowly grooming oneself to only have the kinds of thoughts that can be expressed through these media.

It’s a mindfuck, dear reader.

I want would-be diviners to know that it’s possible to hear a call, and answer it, without ever putting pen to paper, without plugging words into a search engine. It’s written on your heart, where nothing is ever truly forgotten. You can honor this experience by sitting with it, or expressing it through your deeds, without ever having to explain or justify it to anyone. 

And a reminder: just as it’s valuable to inspire and draw inspiration from others, your own Profound Experiences mustn’t end up being constrained to whatever you can manage to broadcast to others in words or pixels. If you’re struggling with that, consider keeping it to yourself for a while so it can distill and speak to you more deeply. As Kahlil Gibran wrote:

“And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered. For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words may indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.”

The irony of blogging about this isn’t lost on me, so I’m doubling down and including some pics from last weekend. Did you know people are far more likely to engage with your content when they can see your face? 

😐

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Still Some Good Left In The World

Characters: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Tony, Happy, Pepper, Madame B

Word Count: 1,763

Warnings: minor angst, mostly fluff

Summary: After filling in for Pepper as Tony’s assistant, you see someone from your past that you never thought you’d see.

Author’s Note: This is for Roxy’s @roxyspearing 1k Gif-tastic Challenge! and my prompt is the gif below! This was so much fun to write! If you have any requests, please send them in! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

“Yes, Pepper, I know what to do. You’ve sent over everything I could possibly need and more,” you spoke to your best friend on the phone.

“Don’t give me that tone, Y/N. I have some really important business to take care of, and I need you to take care of Tony while I’m gone.”

“I know, Pepper. Seriously, you don’t have to worry about this. I can do it,” you tried to assure her.

“Okay. I’ll call in a few days to see how things are going. I have a lot of meetings to go to, so I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, you take care of things there and I’ll take care of things here. Deal?”

“Deal,” she laughed. “Okay, love you.”

“Love you too,” you said right before she hung up. When Pepper told you that she needed you to be Tony’s assistant, you thought she was crazy. When she told you Tony handed over his company to her, you knew she had to be joking. However, she proved you wrong when Tony himself told you everything she is telling you was true. Being Pepper’s best friend, you’ve gotten accustomed to Tony’s ridiculous ways which is why she asked you to be his new assistant in the first place.

She was going to be gone for a few months and in that time span, she needed you to make sure Tony doesn’t do anything stupid. You and Tony got along great, so it wasn’t a problem in that sense. It’s just that you had school since you were going for a business degree, and you really couldn’t afford distractions right now. The only reason you took the job was because Tony would be able to give you great recommendation letters and even a job once you graduate.

He was a fun person to be around, but when it came to actually doing work, he had a hard time staying on track of things he wasn’t interested in. So, it was your job to make sure Stark Industries stayed standing for when Pepper came back.

It was your first day on the job and you felt good about yourself. Wearing a new outfit, you felt confident in your stride, holding onto the clipboard with all the paperwork Tony needed to sign made you feel powerful, and your heels clicking on the tile floor made you feel important. Nothing could go wrong on your first day, especially when Happy Hogan was scheduled to babysit Tony the whole day. All you needed to do was get in, have him sign papers, and then get out.

So simple.

Upon entering the room, you heard Tony talking to someone and you assumed it was Happy. They were training since Tony needed it, and you hoped to be out of there in 5 minutes so you could go back to your homework. However, when you approached the corner, you heard a female’s voice which you didn't recognize. You knew almost everyone in the tower, but this person you didn't know.

Turning the corner, the sound of your heels on the floor made everyone stop and look at you. Tony and Happy were in here, but there was someone else as well, someone that looked very familiar. Her red wavy hair and deep blue eyes were the most noticeable features of this woman. Something in the way she stared at you made you think you knew her. However, you couldn’t recall ever meeting her recently.

Who was this woman and why did she look so familiar? Rifling through your memories, you tried to remember where you might have met or seen her. Going back as far as 10 years ago, there wasn’t a single file opened on her. You could have gone back farther, but you wouldn't dare open that door. It’s reserved for the Red Room and you swore you’d never look back on those days.

Those were dark days of intense training, hand-to-hand combat, killing your friends, and being brainwashed by people who thought they knew better. Pepper didn’t know of your time in the Red Room, in fact, no one did, and you’d like to keep it that way. There was just something about this woman that made you think back to those terrible days.

“Rule number one,” Happy spoke to the woman, yet she never took her eyes off you, “never take your eyes off your opponent.”

Just as Happy went to take a swing at the woman, she swiftly turned around and grabbed at his boxing glove before twisting it back. Even though she was only wearing a white button-down shirt and black pants, she was still very agile. Flipping her body over, she wrapped her legs around Happy’s head before slamming him to the ground. Just like that, your mouth dropped open. If you didn’t recognize that woman, you definitely recognized that move.

Walking over to Tony who was sitting down and watching the whole thing happen, you sat next to him.

“Who is that?” you asked.

“Natalie Rushman. She's from Legal.”

“Right, well, I have some paperwork you need to sign so I can get back to doing what I do,” you chuckled, peeking at Natalie once more.

“And what do you do?” Tony asked, taking the paperwork from you.

“Business school. Something you’re going to help me with,” you smirked, meeting her eye once more. Happy started tapping the ground in an effort to get Natalie off him, and she did. She swiftly got up before smoothing down her shirt. Getting out of the ring, she grabbed her binder and made her way over to you and Tony.

“Here,” Tony said, handing you the papers after he signed them.

“I’m Natalie,” she smiled politely at you.

“Y/N. Where did you learn to do that?” you asked but she evaded your question.

“I am going to need your impression,” she said to Tony.

“My impression? You have a quiet, reserved, maybe an old soul,” Tony started but she cut him off.

“I meant your fingerprint,” she smirked and opened the binder, letting Tony do the work himself.

“I knew that,” he mumbled and placed his fingerprint on the ink before the paper.

“Anything else?” Natalie answered when he was finished.

“No, thanks,” you answered for him. She nodded and looked at you before leaving the room.

“Let me guess, you googled her?” you asked once she was out of sight.

“Of course.”

“Let me see it. Something isn’t right with that girl,” you stated before going over to the coffee table and looking at the digital file that JARVIS left when Tony asked for it. You were going to get to the bottom of this first and foremost.

After intense research, everything on Natalie Rushman was squeaky clean. There was nothing alarming on her records which means that she was hiding something. Nobody’s records were that clean. Something was up and you wanted to know right now.

At the end of the day, you learned from Tony she was cleaning out his office to make room for Pepper when she came back from business. Reaching the floor his office was on, you walked to the door and knocked before opening it. He was right, Natalie was there putting things in boxes.

“Hey, you got a minute?” you asked and she looked up.

“I have to get this done,” she started to say but you cut her off.

“It’ll only take a minute,” you pestered on.

“Sure, what do you need?” she asked and you walked inside the room before closing the door.

“You ignored my question earlier. How did you do that move with Happy?”

“Oh, you know, I took a few classes of self-defense,” she said vaguely.

“A few self-defense classes taught you that?”

“Is there anything else you needed?” she asked, but you stared at her. The more you stared into her eyes, the more familiar she became. Just like that, memories and flashes of her became more prominent in your mind before you got a clear picture of where you knew her.

“Natasha and Y/N, you’re up,” Madame B said sternly, leaving no room for discussion. Getting up on shaky legs, you made your way to the middle of the room where Natasha was standing. There wasn’t any reason to be nervous since you were one of the best trainees here, but Natasha was the other best one. You’ve seen what she can do, and she doesn’t provide any mercy.

“Begin,” Madame B stated. Immediately Natasha charged at you, and you tried your best to block her attempts to break you down. It was working for a little while, but your mistake was trying to punch at her. She grabbed your hand and twisted it back, flipping her body over so she wrapped her legs around your neck and slammed you to the ground.

That is where you knew her from. She was in the Red Room with you. How you didn't know if earlier, you couldn’t answer that, but you knew now.

“Is that all?” she asked.

“Natasha Romanoff?” you asked with wide eyes.

“No, I’m Natalie Rushman,” she said calmly but you could see the panic in her eyes.

“You’re Natasha Romanoff. That’s where I know you from. The Red Room. You did the same exact move on me as you did on Happy.”

“Wait,” she said, snapping her head to you, “Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. She couldn’t seem to form the words until you gave her a tight hug.

“You’re really here?” she whispered.

“Yes, I am,” you breathed in her scent just as she tightened her grip on you. Before you two were trained to become assassins, you two became fast friends. To drown out the pain and torture from the Red Room, you two told each other everything, becoming very close. So close, you even formed a crush on her. But before anything could happen, Madame B turned your best friend into a ruthless machine. The only reason you weren't killed when you trained with her, is because deep down, you knew she still remembered you.

“I tried so hard to forget those days,” you said as you pulled away. “But one look at you, and I’m starting to remember. Not of the torture, but of us.”

“I never thought I’d see you again.”

“I’m here now. I don’t know what happened to you after you left, but I’m here now.”

Pulling her back in, you gave her another tight hug, reminding her that there was still good in the world.

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[sabbathism]

People don’t like season 2, and here’s what they have to say :

tl;dr: I answer the web’s most vehement complaints about season 2 of American Gods. If you happen to recognize yourself in one of those, then I suggest thinking about it really really hard and, perhaps, giving the show another chance. If you recognize yourself in several of those, please drop the show. It’s not worth wasting your time and especially not ours. (I put a list of helpful cast and production related facts at the end.)

Hi, Nelle here, I’m but a humble fan who wishes to have fun seeing gods bicker and argue among mortals, complete with the craziest of situations, stellar cast and great visuals. And yet I can’t help but hear things when I start browsing this hellsite in quest of juicy fanworks.

Although I’m no Joan Of Arc, I hear voices from above and here’s what I have to shout back (lest I get burned at the stake)  :

“The pacing is all over the place ! It’s too slow !”

Is it tho ? Pacing has been “all over the place” (really meaning: different from what we avid show-viewers are accustomed to) since season 1, we’ve never gotten straight answers out of anything unless we started listening and paying attention to details. 

The book (you know, the source material) has four parts, the fourth serving as an epilogue to the whole story, season 2 is most definitely meant to close part 1 which, allegedly, had the slowest of pace to begin with. And it doesn’t even have half the new narratives the show has been creating. So no, it’s not slow. I promise you things are happening.

“It needs to follow the actual book more !!”

What’s a good adaptation ? Is it something that is 100% truthful to the source, down to every word ? Is it something that should offer something for people who don’t know the source ? Or, on the contrary, be something inseparable from it ?

American Gods as a TV show offers new things for people who have read the book and for those who haven’t, while keeping the beloved moments and aspects from the original material.

Why add or change stuff ? Well because, if you’re a book reader, you get welcomed into the state of existential dread that comes with not knowing what happen next, I promise it’s part of the fun. But also because author Neil Gaiman believes that he can do more, do better, with something that was written 20 years ago and needed the changes in a lot of places. He’s aware that he has, in fact, a show to make, and not a carbon copy of the book, as well as a fanbase that deserves to be challenged and entertained.

“Why taking the focus off Shadow ? He’s barely the protagonist anymore !”

Because there are..... characters ? who are also part of the story ? Like, actual stories need characters ? But alright, I know it can get confusing when you have a lot of those, here’s how you can still tell Shadow is the protagonist : months of advertising and the entirety of season 1 which was spent following Shadow with only minor breaks allowing other characters to breathe. Trust me they need the development too, or then we’ll really have reasons to complain.

You want a narrative focusing solely on staying in Shadow’s head ? Alright. Try the book. But here’s my take on its narrating choice, as a graduate in english literature : it’s boring. To the point where Neil Gaiman himself got sad that he couldn’t follow other characters.

“They’re not giving the POCs enough space ! Where are the coming to america segments ? At least they gave actual insights.”

Out of every piece of fiction, I truly don’t think you want to get angry at American Gods for how much room it’s giving POCs... (a 20% white cast ensemble, POCs and especially WOCs writers and directors on production, ethnically accurate casting and writing, diversity positive messages, etc) Really I’m sure there are many other places in the fictional industry were the question of diversity is more than legitimate. American Gods has yet to be one of them, by far.

As for the Coming To America stuff, well, there’s not that many in the book to begin with. There are a whole bunch for sure, but we’ve got over quite a few of them in season 1. If there’s more believers you want, we’re served with the latest episode 4, with humans worshiping both Old and New, and interacting with gods. I’m sure we can review that point again once the season is over.

“Those white directors don’t even know how to read or write POC characters !”

*cough*

here’s a list of the POC directors and writers on episodes 2 to 5 of season 2 only :

Deborah Chow (director)

Aditi Kapil (writer)

Salli Richardson (director)

Rodney Barnes (writer)

Orlando Jones (writer)

That’s half the entire director-writer team for these episodes, with Neil Gaiman being involved. You’ll have to point out to me exactly what you mean by “not writing right”.

“New Media ? 1. she’s a bitch, 2. her actress is just plain bad, 3. she’s a hurtful stereotype.” 

And here comes perhaps the trickiest one of all... I’m gonna have to bear with you, as much as you’re gonna have to bear with me :

1. Yes. 2. No. 3. Yes, and it’s a problem, but not for the reasons you think.

First of all, and let’s get it out of the way : actor =/= character nor writing. You think the writing is bad and/or that the character is annoying ? Well, it’s certainly not on the actor. You wanna know the actual level of Kahyun Kim’s acting ? Starring in an Alan Cummings play alongside him. We’ve got a lot to discuss but please keep her out of this.

Second, New Media is an absolute bitch of a character. She’s mocking, manipulative, and too ambitious for anyone’s good. A lot of people seem to love her tho and to that I say good ??? I mean, great if you like her, because she’s got as much potential as the rest of these crazy characters, I’m not here to tell you who you should hate and who you should love.

But there’s a problem you shouldn’t ignore, and that its so far she’s not well written. It’s a terrible thing to say in such a show but she’s really not : because we barely see her talking, because we barely got any scene with her (remember what I said about letting character breathe ?), and because what we’ve seen of her so far is the stereotype of the hypersexualized naive asian girl. Complete with tentacle porn scene. (Whether you felt weirded out, amused or utterly disgusted by this is your own valid opinion.)

The character has been officially described as “the goddess of global content”, “a cyberspace chameleon” and “a master of manipulation.” In recent addition to that, actor Bruce Langley (Technical Boy) has said : “New Media’s willing to be perceived as naive because if she’s being underestimated, when she does make her move, you’d never see it coming, but she knows way more than she lets on.” He then goes on to compare her to Gillian Anderson’s Media.

This proves that the way New Media comes off isn’t a problem of intent (the naive part is calculated and they want the character to be duplicitous, falsely seductive), but of handling, and it’s just as bad. Sure, Gillian’s Media also knew more than she let on for about as much screen time -I’m sure New Media will get to her four scenes in one season-, but she had been grounded in the narrative as her own character, she’s had her exposition speech and time. (See her meeting with Shadow in S01E02) We’ve yet to see that much of Kahyun’s New Media.

Because they do not give her what she needs to be more than a two dimensional character, we find ourselves with a shallow character who doesn’t give too many signs of the thought process everyone seemed to have put into crafting her beforehand, including Kahyun’s acting. This is a serious issue that needs to be handled before the season ends, or she will just stand out like a nasty spot in an overall incredible piece of fiction. Hell even Laura (another very unlikable character) manages to be a great addition to the narrative. Come on people.

You can of course argue that they could have gone for another type or personality for her, other than naive and sex-oriented, for a korean actress to play. You’re right, there’s a lot of aspect of social media that could have been put to work, but not only are we gonna need more than two scenes (at least the tentacles aren’t a regular occurrence so far), but it’s just like they could have not made the Technical Boy hang Shadow. 

The New Gods appear as the ‘general bad idea’ we promote through and associate with their element. Mr. World is gonna be the creepy looking government dude, Tech is gonna be the lanky rude geek, they’re gonna be cold, insensitive and selfish. They’re gonna be the things we don’t like. Throughout season 1, Tech Boy was in the same place we find ourselves in with New Media : he was the loud white racist teenager hating on anon on the net, he was unlikable from start to finish, and it’s only once we got inputs from his actor, the writers, and then now that they’re showing more of his story and personality well after season 1 that we see him as the fully complex and interesting character he is.

Let’s all keep our wits about us, not engulf ourselves in blind hate or love, and encourage the writers to prove us all that this character is worth the while like her actress says.

(I still won’t forgive the bitch, but at least she won’t stick out like a sore thumb.)

(if you want Kahyun’s input on her character and experience, here’s a lengthy interview)

"They don't even know how to write their own character, period !"

By all means, tell me your basis of characterization to declare that characters who didn’t even have enough screentime to have much substance in season 1 (except Shadow, but strangely no one complains about him) aren’t written right when their creator is literally hovering over the writers and actors shoulders, because he wants them to be developed and written right.

It’s not Harry Potter, Neil isn’t making up facts about them to make himself look better, maybe accept that the vision you had in your mind wasn’t entirely accurate to the truth of the characters and that’s okay ? You can still write them yourself however you want, tell the stories you want to tell, Neil has made it very clear that he doesn’t consider fan ideas less valuable than his.

“Bryan has such as specific, unique vision ! They’re just trying to copy it and they’re failing.”

Definitely. No really, you’re right, I’m a big fan of Bryan’s work, I lost my mind like everyone else when he said he wasn’t giving up on Hannibal season 4.

But you know who else has a unique vision ? The seven directors who took over (four of those are women) and the show-runner who had already worked with him beforehand. They’re not trying to copy his style, they’re trying to make a smooth transition so fans like you don’t have a hard time mourning the terrible loss of Bryan and Michael. And for every person who noticed the changes, there were just as many who haven’t even paid attention to it.

Concept : some people may watch shows/movies for the story and the characters, not just for who’s behind the camera. (As far as I’m concerned, I actually like the image better. Everything was killer in season 1, and I think it’s even nicer in season 2.)

“Bryan gave us Salim and the Jinn, and now they’re just gonna be cast aside because those directors lack the LGBT+ sensibility Bryan has !”

Alright, yup, sure. As a member of the community myself, I totally recognize that someone who’s also part of it will know firsthand of the subtleties and details to give the best representation possible on screen. The example of Salim and the Jinn is perfectly fine, since the entire segment was indeed beautifully made. But if we cannot allow people from outside to ponder and think about our lives through writing (which is probably the best way for them to start understanding and broadening their mindset), how can we expect wide representation to improve in any meaningful way ? Especially considering that the show has been casting LGBT+ actors, in an environment where the cast is listened to and solicited on their opinions. 

And especially when Bryan was not the one who gave you Salim and the Jinn. (Because I’ve seen people genuinely believe it.) Neil Gaiman did. He wrote a gay muslim couple in his book 20 years ago, way before it was considered a political statement. He’s also the one who gave strict and specific directions as to how these very characters should be handled. Because if he expanded Salim and his fire boyfriend Jinn’s story from a one-shot to a full story integrated into his entire narration, then it’s certainly not to pull a “bury your gays” or make them miserable. No need to be LGBT+ to be a decent writer and human being.

“Production was a mess anyway, I knew it’d turn out like this. It sucks without Bryan.” 

Define “mess”. Because all the incendiary reports we got throughout early production had been utter bullshit.

Showrunners being “fired” ? Bullshit. “Disastrous” organization ? Bullshit. “Screaming matches” between directors and actors ? Bullshit. Actors “refusing” to come back ? Bullshit.

Every report that wasn’t made through direct input of the cast or production team was not only wildly exaggerated, but also fake ? But please, hear it from Neil himself :

It was weirder for me to read some of the stuff online that said, “Oh, my god, American Gods, behind the scenes, is all falling apart.” I was going, “But they just shot four episodes, and everything is fine. They’re doing some re-shoots, but they’re doing less re-shoots than they did in Season 1.” [...]

I was reading Steven Bochco’s biography on the tube, going into work on Good Omens, every morning, and learning about what went down on Hill Street Blues, and then on NYPD Blue. That was worse, by a factor of thousands, than anything that happened on American Gods. A showrunner came, and a showrunner left. That’s not even an unusual thing. [...] The weirdest thing for me was putting out a thing on Twitter on Season 2, and having a bunch of people go, “We thought this was canceled.” No, it’s not canceled. In its own mad way, it’s on schedule.  

(Source)

The show was never in any danger, much less in jeopardy. It's overreactions to false rumors and dramatic assumptions that can kill a show faster than a showrunner leaving. You want to be critical of a production ? Go ahead, and check your sources and facts. Please. I promise most of the time it’s not worth the worry, much less losing all hope.

“Bryan cared, they’re just ruining what he’s built.”

I dare you to watch any cast interview and tell me these people don’t care about the show, and that they do not value the work everyone else (from hair department to makeup artists, producers, writers, directors and costume team) puts into it as well.

I’ve watched my fair share of shows, I’m curious about production and behind-the-scenes material in general, and I’ve never seen a group of people being so genuinely happy and passionate about what they do and create together.

Neil took time out of preparing Good Omens (which he was showrunning himself) to be more active because he knew things would be different between season 1 and 2. Ricky Whittle (Shadow) had his contract reviewed to better accommodate shooting and planning. Orlando Jones (Nancy) contributed to writing episodes (especially regarding Black history and representation) and brought inputs on characterization. Ian Mcshane (Mr. Wednesday) participated in directing when he explicitly said during season 1 that he wasn’t interested in working as a director on this kind of show.

And that’s for the well-known names only. Go on the American Gods hashtag on instagram, you’ll find all the various artists who participated in crafting all the details found in new episodes. They’re out there talking about how excited they were to work on it all, how they did it, the love they have for the show and crew. They’re active and positive in every way you can be, please tell me how much they don’t care.

Production made the choice of taking its time making this season rather than rushing it when it’s been very clear that delaying can cause massive loss of viewers, because they care more about how the show comes out than what people actually think. They took in stride whatever problem a show of this magnitude could naturally encounter (again guys, no disaster happened) and worked to solve it the best way they could because they were perfectly aware that we fans care. And somehow that’s what made some of yall disappointed ??

If you seriously think Bryan (and Michael, some people forget about him smh) cared more about American Gods than these people -when he, in fact, cared just as much-, then by all means, leave right with him.

(Also uhm, idk if you noticed, but they’re both still credited in the fucking opening. Because, you know, they’re going by the bases they’ve settled.)

Some (hopefully) helpful facts :

+ Bryan and Michael weren’t fired, they walked out of the show after mutual understanding with the rest of the production that they weren’t agreeing on budget and realization. They concluded that pushing it would just be harmful to the show.

+ Likewise, Jesse Alexander (second showrunner) wasn’t evicted but stepped out once disagreements rose as to how to handle the end of the season. Again, they found a solution fairly quickly.

+ Gillian Anderson had only signed for season 1. Whether her character will ever be seen again (probably in flashbacks) is entirely up in the air. No promises, no impossibilities.

+ Both Kristin Chenoweth (Ostara) and Chris Obi (Anubis) have not been able to contribute to season 2 due to conflicts in their schedules.

+ Neil Gaiman has been much more involved in the production of season 2 as he had finished shooting Good Omens, something which took up most of his time when season 1 was produced.

+ Taking time producing a show =/= production being a disaster.

+ Always go for the reports/articles involving interviews and/or inputs of the persons actually working on the project (cast members, producers, writers, directors). Those are the most reliable sources you can fight. (Just remember that there’s always a possibility for fake news/drama online !)

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title : waiting a full moon cycle

Author : @bidoofgodofdestruction

For : @sawitart

Rating/warnings : I’d say a T. Warning for animal death and injuries

Prompt : Red Riding Hood AU Hinata is a butcher that met wolf Komaeda (cursed) in the forest while hunting and Hinata took care of him. Hinata must be careful not to let other people find Komaeda otherwise he will be killed

Authors notes : Haha, furry Hinata. This ended up not being like red riding hood at all, but well, the description isn’t like red riding hood at all. Also, I completed the first draft in like a day, how awesome is that? But I hope this is sufficient.

The shop after closing time had a kind of melancholy, the way the lights were out and it was official, that nobody would be coming anymore. But he didn’t have time to think about that. Instead he went to back room with some leftover meat for the day, and placed it in front of the fair, white haired wolf, sitting with a patient expression.

“Ah… I don’t deserve this hospitality.” The wolf said “Not a pest like me.”

“Well you can complain about it…” Hajime glared “Or you can eat.”

“Well. It’d be impudent to turn it down!” He laughed “So of course I’ll eat.”

“Then go ahead. Eat.” He motioned to the pile.

He complied, and Hajime rested his chin in his hand. This wolf was an odd case. ~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started with a cold night, and a gun in his hand as he walked through the forest, eyes peeled for any sort of animal that could end up in his shop as a way to net profit.

The sound of rustling in the bushes made his instincts kick into action, aiming the device. There was nothing for a second, tension you could cut with a knife, but then he heard a speaking voice.

“Ah… looks like this is the end. What terrible luck.”

Wait, was that a person?

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He put the gun down and began to push away bits of shrubbery to see who he was apologizing to. He couldn’t believe he almost shot a person! Well, in his defense, what were they even doing rustling around in the bushes but still! He’d have to give them a warning, maybe help them home and- there was a wolf.

“Ahhhh!” He jumped back brandishing his gun again “W-where did you-“

“Are you surprised? I guess that’s to be expected.” The wolf… he spoke. The same voice from before he heard. He was talking. He was talking.

“Why can you talk?!” He shouted.

“Well, probably because I started out as a human, not a wolf.” He commented.

“Wh-wh-wha…” this defied logic! This was absurd! He could hardly process it!

“… If you want to kill me, you should go ahead and do it.”

Part of him was comprehending the idea to put a bullet in this wolf, and never having to think about this encounter again, able to write this off as a figment of his imagination but…

I started out as a human, not a wolf

He lowered the gun and sighed.

“Follow me.” ~~~~~~~~~~

“I apologize. Because of me your hunting had to be cut short.”

“I-I don’t care about that!” Hajime shouted “You said you were a human before! Is that true?”

“Yes… unfortunately, I accidentally stumbled into a witches garden, and she wasn’t one to listen to explanations…”

“Oh great. Talking wolves, and witches exist.” He rubbed his temples “Anything else I should know?”

“Well… the curse can only be lifted by true loves kiss.”

“By what?!”

The wolf suddenly burst into laughter. “Just kidding of course.”

“Oh…” Well you couldn’t blame him for falling for that temporarily with all the other things he’d heard in the past few seconds… “Well, what does cure it then?”

“Well, apparently this just lasts for a  month.” The wolf said tilting its head “I was just changed the other day though. So I have a long time to spend in this form.”

“Okay. Here’s the deal.” Hajime pointed “I’ll let you stay the night and offer up some food. Okay?”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly!” The wolf shook his head “Not without repayment!”

“Fine then! You can help me with my hunting tommorow.” He offered “Then you don’t have to feel like you’re taking advantage of me or anything.”

“Hm… I guess I can accept that answer.” The wolf nodded “Should I tell you my name then?”

“Huh?”

“If you’re going to take me in, you should at least know my name.” He replied “Do you want to hear it?”

“Oh. Yeah, probably.”

“Then allow me.” He nodded holding up a paw “My name is Nagito Komaeda.”

“Hajime Hinata.” He introduced back taking the outstretched paw with his hand and shaking it up and down “Nice to meet you.” ~~~~~~~~~~

“I can smell something over there.” Nagito said, motioning his head toward a clearing. Hajime took a deep breath and sharpened his gaze, to a duck taking a stroll. He aimed his gun, and then a loud crack took through the air, and the duck was laying motionless on the ground.

“Excellent shot Hajime!”

“Whatever. You’ve fulfilled your end of the deal and I’ve fulfilled mine. Now is there any friends or family I can take you too?”

“Oh. No, not at all.” He shook his head.

“They don’t have to be close by. I should at least get you to someone.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Nagito said “I don’t think there’s a single person in the world who wants me around.”

“Y-You’re kidding.”

“Sorry. This must be a true burden to-“

“Then you can stay with me for the full month.” He burst out.

“… Excuse me?”

Did he seriously say that? What was he thinking.

“Well I mean, today went well.” He said reasoning with himself just as much as the other “Having a hunting partner could be useful, and I don’t want you to go out on your own. You could die.”

Nagito stayed quiet for a moment. Then…

“Hahaha. I really got you there, didn’t I?”

“What?” His eyes widened “Wait, did you lie to me?”

The wolf remained quiet. Then… he just started walking off.

“Hey! Answer my question!” He shouted.

“I’ve said too much to you.”

“So are you lying or not?!”

He didn’t respond.

“URRRRRGH!” He ran to block his path “Look, I can’t have you on my conscious knowing you possibly died in the wild, so give it straight to me.”

“My, that’s a tall thing to say. You just murdered another animal.”

“Well, not a human!” He shook his head “I can’t just let you wander.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I’m unsure about a lot of things, so I might be unsure about this, but at the very least give me a chance.” He pleaded “It’s all I can do and I need to do something or else this is just going to haunt me.”

“… In other words, you won’t give up no matter what I do.” He sighed “Well, I guess it’s out with it then. No, I don’t have anybody to go to.”

“Fine. Then stay with me.” He offered “Please?”

“… Fine.” ~~~~~~~~~

He started gaining more spoils of the hunt with Nagito around, which was good because he would put quite a bit of it into feeding him. Nagito would always insist he didn’t deserve it, but he didn’t know what he expected him to do when he said that.

“Say, Hajime.” Kazuichi smiled to him one day “Got a lady you got your eye on?”

“No…?” He raised an eyebrow “Why would you think that?”

“Well, I’ve noticed you getting nervous if anyone goes near the back room.” He stood on his tip-toes “Got a little shrine for her in there?”

“Wait, does that mean you have a shrine to Sonia in your house?”

“… No.”

It sounded like he did. He should never overestimate Kazuichi Souda.

“Well, whatever!” He shouted “If it’s not that, then what is it?”

“I’m not getting nervous about the back room! Your imagination is just going wild.”

“Uh-uh! I know something is up!”

Hoo boy. Maybe he should’ve just gone along with his shrine idea.

“Never mind. Just leave.”

“Is it a note of me doing something embarrassing? Huh?”

Hajime pushed him out the door.

“Oh come on! Is it?”

“Goodbye Kazuichi.” Hajime said as he slammed the door and sighed then waited a moment. He switched the sign on the door to closed. Then he went to the back room.

“Come on Nagito. Let’s go home.” ~~~~~~~

Sleep wouldn’t take over, no matter what he did, so he looked over at Nagito, already sound asleep. You know, his fur looked so soft to the touch. Large tufts sticking out all over him, so he was buried in a coat of pure fluff. Hajime reached a hand out and started petting.

“Mm… Hajime?”

He then became aware of what he was doing and pulled back, his face turning red.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking! It just looked so…” he turned away “Sorry.”

“Having trouble sleeping?”

Hajime sighed and sat up in bed.

“Just… one of those nights.”

“Well, I’ve been able to sleep well.” Nagito commented “Probably because I haven’t had much to do other than sleep since I ended up like this.”

Hajime studied the white wolfs face, so calm and accepting. How did he manage to deal with this absurd situation? He didn’t want it. Yet he had seemed to just take it in stride.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Because… you turned into a wolf! Who just accepts that so casually?”

“True… but a lot of unexpected things have happened to me before.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for now you should focus on getting to sleep.” He did what he thought was the wolf equivalent to a shrug “Good night Hajime.”

“… Good night.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Say Nagito.” Hajime started one day in the woods “Have you ever gone hunting before?”

“Not before I met you, no.” He shook his head “Why?”

“Because… you don’t seem to have a reaction to it.” He said “This kind of stuff is kinda scary isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s repaying the person who took me in, so I don’t allow myself to take issue in it.” He replied “It’s why I grew accustomed to it so quick!”

Wait, that was right. He seemed to already be good at it the first time sniffing out prey, despite just being turned. Was he really working himself that hard?

“Hajime? Are you thinking of something?”

“Yeah…” Hajime bent down to meet him eye to eye “Are you tired?”

“No, not at all.”

Hajime didn’t want to press but he didn’t fully believe that statement. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That night, when Nagito’s asleep, Hajime lifted him over onto the bed and draped him with his own blanket.

“Get a good nights sleep.” He whispered “Please.”

The next morning when he woke up, Nagito was peering at him with a curious gaze.

“You know I shed right?”

Hajime rolled his eyes “Good morning Nagito.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ He really was good company. Hajime hated to admit it, but the guy made him crack a real smile every so often with little things.

The way he bobbed his head up and down.

His melodious voice, sometimes used for singing.

The way he always found a way to say something nice about him.

That’s why it was so frustrating whenever he talked badly about himself.

“Can you stop?” He asked one time that it happened.

“Stop what?”

“Talking like you’re worthless. You are worth something. To me.”

“You hardly know me.”

“I live with you!”

“You’ve lived with me less than a month.”

“True but… we’ve spent plenty of time together. Come on.”

“I’m not worth getting upset over.” Nagito laid down “So you should stop.”

“Wait, Nagito! Ugh!” He rubbed his temples. Why did he have to be so difficult “Can’t you just stop?”

“… I don’t think so.”

Hajime sighed and began studying the dust on the floor as if that would give him a hint on what to do. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~< Moonlight poured through the window, and Hajime took time to reach out and let it illuminate him. It was a full moon tonight… wasn’t that the kind wherein it was usually associated humans turned into wolves? Well, usually this process took one month. That meant they were waiting in the time of a full moon.

“It’s lovely isn’t it?” Nagito asked “I truly admire beautiful things like a full moon.”

“Beautiful things…” in all honesty, he never took the time to find he would call something beautiful, but looking into the night sky… “Yeah. I think the moon is pretty beautiful.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One day off, he left Nagito home and came back with a book.

“Ah! That’s one of my favorites!” Nagito exclaimed “You’re going to love it! It’s so inspiring!”

“Oh… would you like to read it too?”

“I’m afraid in this state it’s rather hard for me to be holding onto a book.”

“Then come sit next to me. You can tell me when to turn the page.” He patted the ground next to him “Come on.”

“Why would you want that?”

“Just because.”

Nagito eyed him for a few moments, but he accepted, walking over and leaning against Hajime, making him feel the soft fur on his side.

“Go ahead.”

Hajime smiled and opened the book. ~~~~~~~~~~

It was a pretty cheesy novel, punctuated with long speeches from the heroes how they should never give up hope, and that they will always prevail. Well, it didn’t hurt to have something positive in your life he supposed.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Nagito asked the day they read the final page “It’s so inspiring! So wonderful! Truly, a masterpiece.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Hajime shrugged “But it was a good read.”

“Wouldn’t go that far?” Nagito repeated “It was a truly wonderful tale.”

He seemed to really love the story’s positivity.

“You know, if you’re going to be basking in this, be more so about yourself.”

“Hm?”

“You’re always saying you’re lowly or filth or whatever, yet you love stories about keeping your head up.” He put a hand on his head “You deserve to be happy about yourself.”

“I really don’t.” He sighed “Those heroes are in their own league. Far above mine.”

“Quit saying that! You’re just affirming it to yourself!” He groaned. Maybe he was trying something futile or- or maybe he was just trying to expect too big results out of this. Maybe he didn’t have to go so big “How about this? If you can’t stop entirely can you start with just one day?”

“You Really aren’t going to let this go are you?”

“Please. One day. See how it is. Won’t you?” He asked “It’s almost been a month, and I’d like to go a day without hearing it.”

“… I’ll try.” He sighed “If you’re asking it of me.”

That was something. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Hajime was buried under a pile of boxes.

“It was just an unlucky break. I’m fine.” He told Nagito when explaining the situation “They must’ve not been able to support their weight anymore.”

“An unlucky break…” Nagito repeated. ~~~~~~~~~~

Hajime woke up the next morning and couldn’t find Nagito anywhere.

“Nagito?!” He shouted running outside “Nagito!”

Dammit, did he leave? Why would he…

“Nagito!” He screeched at the top of his lungs “Nagito!”

He ran out into the forest his eyes darting about trying to find him, but nothing was appearing. Then he saw rustling bushes.

“Nagito…?”

Well, it was a wolf. Just not Nagito. The creature pounced on him immediately, and Hajime felt fear wash over him, with no gun, nothing to do, except let himself become a meal.

Then the wolf was off of him and Hajime could see why. Nagito had attacked it.

“Nagito?”

The two wolves continued in their fight, until the one that had jumped him took a bite out of Nagito’s leg. He promptly fell over.

“No!” Hajime grabbed a stick and ran at the wolf with all his might, getting it on the ground, then plunging the thorn into it. It let out a cry and fell on his side unmoving. Hajime took deep breaths and turned to Nagito. ~~~~~~~~~~~

“Just relax.” Hajime set him down on the bed “It’ll be okay.”

“No it won’t.” Nagito muttered “I was trying to get away.”

“… Oh.” He honestly considered Nagito a friend so hearing that kinda stung. “I’m sorry you didn’t like me enough for something like this to happen.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Nagito replied, and Hajime could see tears in his eyes “It’s far more dangerous for you if I’m around.”

“I… don’t understand what you mean.”

“The reason I don’t have anyone… it’s because I have bad luck. People who get close to me die.”

“Wha- that can’t be possible.”

“So many people have met terrible fates just from being around me. I’ve kept myself isolated for so long so it’d just apply to me, and that’s how I got into this situation in the first place.”

“Nagito…”

“You need to throw me out. Get rid of me. Please.”

“Nagito…” He looked at him solemnly. Did he really believe in luck? “You’re injured. I especially can’t leave you now.”

“Hahaha… this is truly bad luck.” Nagito muttered “I ended up like this so I can’t even get away from you. I’ll be your doom.”

“Nagito, you saved me back there.” He insisted “If you hadn’t shown up I’d be a dead man.”

“But-“

“I can’t pretend I know what’s going to happen but please. Let me take care of you.”

“… Fine.” He sighed “But then I’m getting out of here.”

“Thank you.” Hajime sighed “For being able to share this much with me. I’ll help patch up your leg.”

That was kind of a tall order though since he was no doctor.

“Look, just… breathe okay.” He said one day “The curse should be up soon so… hold on for just a bit.”

Nagito didn’t say anything.

“Say… this bad luck of yours. Can you give me an example?” It wasn’t like he believed in it, but…

“Well… one of the first times… was with my dog.” Nagito said “He died and in exchange my parents took me on a vacation as consolation. But the carriage crashed. I was the only survivor. And I got a massive inheritance in exchange. I always get something in the end. As if that makes up for it.”

“Oh…” He whispered. He didn’t know what to say to that tragedy.

“It’s become commonplace to me. People so much as coming into close proximity die.” He murmured “Who knows? With how much you’re caring for me, fate probably already has a death planned out for you.”

“Nagito… I was put in the most danger today when you weren’t with me. But then when you came in you saved me. Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

“It means I prolonged the inevitable.” He muttered.

Hajime sighed as he looked at Nagito’s injury still bleeding like crazy.

“I can’t say I know what to do. I never know.”

“It’s okay…” Nagito closed his eyes “It’s…”

“Nagito? Stay with me!” He desperately started shaking him, not even noticing the glow emanating from him and how his features were melding from that of a wolf to a man “Nagito! Please!”

Nagito opened his eyes again, now looking at himself, and his leg… it had a large cut, but it was slowly closing itself…

“Well won’t you look at that?” He laughed “I guess reverting back to my previous self means going back to before I was injured huh?”

Hajime didn’t have any words to say to him.

“Well, anyways I better leave now. I’ve done enough. I-“ he began to stand, but as soon as he did he was falling forward.

“Ah!” Hajime caught him and lowered him to the ground “Be careful. You might not be used to walking on two legs again yet.”

“Ah… how horribly unlucky.” Now tears were running down his face “I’m still being helped by you even after the curse wore off.”

“Nagito, you can stay here.” Hajime insisted “I don’t know if I’ll die, or you’ll get injured again, but I want to stand by you.”

“That’s pretty foolish of you to say Hajime.”

“I know… but you’re my… you’re my friend. And I’m not abandoning a friend in need.”

“… Are you sure?”

Hajime smiled “Yes.”

He’d wait as many full moons as it took for Nagito, and whatever happened, he’d be ready.

[raywritesthings]

Worth

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Ryan Sinclair, Graham O'Brien, Yasmin Khan Summary: The Doctor grapples with her past and the past in the wake of what happened in Montgomery. *Since tumblr won’t let external links show up in the search feature I am not linking to my AO3 page anymore but you can also find this fic there*

The Doctor had shut the doors on Asteroid 284996 and done a hop, skip, and a jump back to the controls before the others had fully turned around.

“Right, so, eleventh attempt—”

“Fifteenth,” Graham maintained.

“This next attempt,” she continued regardless, “will be home. Promise this time.”

Yaz was sharing a quick look with both Graham and Ryan. Some kind of silent communication. They were quite good at that.

“Actually, Doctor,” she said, taking two steps up towards the console. “Think we might all want a bit of a rest before heading back.”

“Yeah, there wasn’t much sleep happening at that motel,” Graham added.

“What about you, Ryan?” The Doctor asked.

He shrugged. He was a shrugger, that Ryan. “Could do with some, yeah.”

The Doctor nodded to herself and stepped back from the controls. “Alright then. Sleep first, Sheffield later. Good plan.”

“Right, well, goodnight. Just down this hall here, right Doc?”

“Yep. Pick any room. The TARDIS will have made it for you.”

Not that they were staying. It wasn’t their rooms just as the clothes they’d been borrowing from the TARDIS weren’t their clothes. They weren’t staying. She knew that.

“How’d it do that?” Yaz asked, a curious tilt to her head.

“More of that dimensional engineering, Yaz,” she answered.

The girl shook her head and followed after Graham. Ryan shuffled along behind her as well.

The Doctor called over her shoulder a, “Night, Ryan.”

She heard him stop, and there was a quiet, “Night,” echoed back at her. The Doctor smiled to herself and leaned back over the controls.

She’d study them all night if she had to, just to be sure she got it right tomorrow. Imagining the looks on their faces when they stepped outside back home—

“Thanks for showing us Rosa Parks,” said Ryan suddenly, and she jumped. She’d thought he’d gone off to his not-room. “The person and the asteroid. It was worth it.”

The Doctor spun around, but Ryan had already disappeared down the corridor.

The smile slowly faded from her face. Worth it. She didn’t have to be a genius to know what he’d meant.

Had it been worth it? The constant remarks, the indignities, the slap. The threats on his life that had made her stomach churn and her blood boil.

Her friends were not always safe when they traveled with her. But the harm that had come to Ryan these past two days was different.

She kept going back to that moment, replaying it over and over in her mind. Replaying the different ways time could have diverged.

In one, she intervenes ahead of Yaz, telling the man off instead of deescalating. He calls an officer and the whole lot of them are thrown in jail. Krasko’s plan continues uninterrupted.

In another, she hits the man back. She’s done it before, and it feels just as good — for the moment. The other white men in the area, they react. It becomes a frenzy, a mob, Ryan pushing past Graham to help her only to get overwhelmed by the crowd instead. They’re driven from the town with sticks and rocks, and there’s the light of distant torches approaching—

In the one, the only one that matters now because it is what has happened, her mouth falls open but she is wordless. She watches Yaz assert her authority, watches Graham place himself in front of Ryan, and watches Rosa talk the man down. The Doctor does nothing.

She could kid herself. Say she was simply so preoccupied with the temporal anomalies going on that she hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to react.

But the truth was, in over two-thousand years of traveling, she’d been totally unprepared to act at all.

The Doctor squeezed her eyes shut and let out a pitiful groan. She’d told herself this was a fresh start, a clean break of things for her after so many years of self doubt and recriminations. But her past informed her present just as much as it always had.

She’d been lucky in the past to never come up against that hostile of a presence to one of her friends. The less charitable side of her mind said that luck probably came from the majority of her friends having had an appearance deemed acceptable to previous times in Earth’s history. Had that been random, or a subconscious choice on her own part?

What of her own appearance? She still remembered the advice she’d given a nervous Martha Jones, out on her first official trip to the past.

Just walk about like you own the place. Works for me.

She could kick herself now. Of course it had worked for her- him- them. Pronouns were so confusing. But the invisible truth her past self had failed to acknowledge was that his face alone had granted him the status of one who owned the place whether that was the fifteenth, twenty-first, or seventy-ninth century. That lack of context could have placed Martha in serious danger, the more she thought of it now. Walking about like normal had nearly placed Ryan in danger right before her eyes, and all because of one simple act of kindness he’d tried to perform.

It wasn’t working nearly so well for her anymore, either. She hadn’t missed the way Officer Mason’s eyes had slid from her to Graham every time he had some serious question. How it was Graham, and not her, that he assumed was the authority. The Doctor had grown accustomed to commanding attention wherever she went, but it was only growing clearer to her just how much of that had been attributed to her appearance. She’d taken that for granted.

How many times had the friends she’d asked along complained about the local customs? About being demoted to dinner ladies or plucky girls, and she’d asked them to play along just to avoid ruffling any additional feathers? History was delicate, yes, but how much had she asked the people in her care to sacrifice in deference to it?

Her thoughts returned again and again to those ignorant words she’d spoken so many centuries ago.

Besides, you’d be surprised. Elizabethan England, not so different from your time.

And Montgomery, Alabama was not so different from her new friends’ time either. Only instead of pointing out harmless similarities, she’d led Ryan and Yasmin right into the ugliness those eras shared.

Had it been worth it? Rosa and all those activists, all those people fighting their whole lives for change, would likely say so. Ryan had said it was himself. But the Doctor couldn’t help wishing there was something more she could have done, some other adventure she was sending these wonderful humans home after. They deserved to see the wonders of the universe, but she’d only brought them desolate landscapes and pain.

The Doctor pushed away from the controls and shook out her arms. She didn’t much like all the wallowing this go around. Her mind and body were demanding she do something about it. Without the option to change time, she thought she could try talking instead.

She set off down a corridor at a quick march, trusting the TARDIS to lead her true. In a few minutes, she came to a doorway at the intersection of two corridors and reached out to knock.

“I’m asleep.”

“Don’t sound like it.”

She heard Ryan mutter something and approximately two minutes and twenty-three seconds later his door was open. He wasn’t even dressed for sleep.

“Something the matter? Did we land on another planet?”

“Haven’t landed anywhere yet,” she told him. “Just thought I’d come by if you were still awake.” The Doctor poked her head through the doorway. “This is your room, then? It’s nice.”

It was a large, open space, plenty of room between all the furniture. A couple of lights here and there that weren’t too bright, and the bed looked so soft and inviting it was hard not to just give into the impulse to simply run and jump at it.

“I like it. Yeah. Thanks,” he said.

“Oh, don’t thank me. It’s all the TARDIS,” the Doctor replied. She teetered back and forth on her feet for a few seconds. “Anyway…”

Ryan watched her. He didn’t say much, never forced things to go on. So she couldn’t count on his prodding to force her into saying it. Right then.

The Doctor drew in a breath and then said in a rush, “Ryan, I’m very sorry about the last couple days and it really means a lot to me that you feel it was worth it, but I felt it had to be said. I should have done more for you.”

“That’s okay,” Ryan said, but his eyes were on the floor.

“No, it isn’t.” She stepped up closer, placing herself in his sight-line. Look at that! Shortness did have its advantages. “It isn’t okay because it never was okay. Humanity is amazing, but they have put their own people through so much pain and outrage for centuries for no fault of theirs. And I didn’t help.” She frowned, looking down herself. “I do what I can, but I haven’t done nearly enough.”

She’d avoided it, if anything. Spent time in palaces and amongst leaders instead of with the people they’d subjugated. Flirted with founders of a government that touted freedom as an ideal while punting the issue of slavery down the road for others to fight and die to end.

Donna Noble had been appalled by the Ood and moreover that the Doctor had already known about them. I was busy, she’d told her best friend. But the Doctor hadn’t been, not really. Perhaps the truth was she’d just put up blinders to it the same way the Londoners ignored the labor that went into the cheap clothes they bought.

“One person can’t stop all that,” said Ryan, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Krasko had one thing right. Small actions. And Rosa had to do it.”

That was true. None of her faces could have sat in Rosa’s place. None of them could have changed the world the way she and every other plaintiff in the case to end segregation, every activist in every march, every volunteer to register the voiceless to vote had done.

“So I’m alright with what happened. It had to. That was important.”

She looked back up. “Maybe so, but I don’t want you thinking you’re any less important.”

Ryan didn’t look convinced. “Not like there’s some asteroid floating out there with my name, is there?”

“Not one I’ve heard of yet,” the Doctor said. “There’s still time.”

He shook his head, mouth pulling up at one corner.

“Preserving history is what my people were taught to do, but what I’ve learned in my travels is that history is only as important as the people in it. And I’m glad you’re part of mine,” she told him with a smile.

“So am I,” Ryan replied, and the Doctor blinked. She hadn’t expected that. Truthfully, she’d wondered whether any of them were glad to have met her. It always came as such a shock.

“Well,” she said, hands stuffed in her pockets to avoid the impulse to reach out for a hug. “Suppose I’ll let you sleep now.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

She wheeled about to the door. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

The Doctor looked back once, and they shared a nod. Then she stepped out into the hall and closed the door.

She would miss him. The realization hit her as suddenly as it always did. She would miss all three of them. It didn’t seem to matter if they stayed a day or ten years. Every time they left, she missed them.

“Oh.”

The Doctor looked up at the sound, spotting Graham who had just stopped in his tracks as he rounded the corner.

“Sorry. Were you just?” He pointed to Ryan’s door.

“Think he’ll be alright, Graham.”

Graham nodded. “Yeah, well. He’s a good kid. Grace, um...she raised him well.”

The Doctor looked down and nodded.

“Guess I’ll just...well, goodnight, Doc.”

“Goodnight. Oh, Graham?”

He stopped and turned around. “Yeah?”

“I think you’ll all be alright.”

He smiled, a tight one, but a smile nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly as he continued back on his way. The Doctor doubted he heard her.

The Doctor pushed off from Ryan’s door and continued down the opposite direction, back towards the console room. She felt settled now, ready to take on the task of deciphering the controls to get them home.

Nothing about what had happened had changed, yet nevertheless she was assured. The Doctor had led these new, brief friends of hers in amongst some of the worst of humanity — and they’d all proved themselves the best.

[a-duchess-and-a-prince-wk]

A very interesting read

Meghan Markle and Kate Middleton’s fans are fighting a fierce new royal feud

In the world of British duchess fandom, there’s no room for divided loyalties: praising one means automatically 'hating' the other, writes Patricia Treble

A new war started in 2018, and it’s a take-no-prisoners affair with major implications for the future of the royal family. The once-genteel, even genial, online world of royal watching has been turned upside down and inside out as fans of Kate, Duchess of Cambridge, and Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, duel for social media supremacy and, in the process, tear down anyone who dares to challenge their view of the royal world. There’s no room for divided loyalties: praising one means automatically “hating” the other.

Signs of the slagging aren’t hard to find. Just dive into the royal family’s own social media accounts, then follow the online infection trail. “Please give us MORE MORE MORE of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. Sick to absolute death of fake narcissistic MeAgain Markle,” a commenter wrote on a photo of Prince William and Kate on the royal family’s Instagram account. Kate is “clinging to dear life to Willnot [sic]. His attention is on HRH Meghan,” says another beside a Kensington Palace photo of Kate at a laboratory. “Kate will never be on Meghan’s level, all that lazy consort did was marry a Prince, she don’t know about working, and connecting with others, don’t disrespect Meghan like that,” writes @HRHmegh on Twitter. “Meghan speak so bad and she was fake and she is an actress she know who act. But Kate always is natural,” comments another.

“It is really unbelievable,” says Susan Kelley, who is near the epicentre of the Kate vs. Meghan fan wars because of her two popular royal fashion websites—What Kate Wore, which she started in 2011, and What Meghan Wore, which she co-manages with Susan Courter. “Every time I tell people about it who aren’t in the Kate-Meghan world, they are incredulous.” While the two Susans, as they are known, approve comments before they are posted on the Meghan and Kate sites, “on certain days you can’t go 30 to 60 minutes without checking” Facebook to delete over-the-top comments, Kelley notes.

The reason for the sudden increase in vitriol isn’t hard to find. Seven years after marrying Prince William and being the only leading young female royal, Kate has “competition” in the form of a beautiful American former actress, Meghan Markle, who married Prince Harry in May. William, Kate, Harry and Meghan may be known as the “Fab Four,” but to fans, it’s an either-or choice. The Meghan and Kate acolytes appear to be very young, and accustomed to a social media world that not only condones but seems to encourage anonymous insults. It’s not for nothing that such devotees are known as “stans,” a combination of stalker and fan.

The fans aren’t living in an “and” world but in an “or” one. “Don’t get out of your lane, don’t be coming into my lane,” is how Kelley sees them. “This has been just extraordinarily troubling to me,” she continues. “This is 2018. If this was two men, this would not be happening. I thought we were beyond this…There is something so off, the level of hatred and how intense it is, and the volume.” Perhaps most disturbing for everyone is the level of intolerance, even racism. Not only is Meghan, the daughter of a black mother and white father, the focus of racist attacks, but her fans, in turn, quickly toss the “r” word at perceived Meghan opponents.

Susan Kelley isn’t alone. Everyone reports the same thing—a sudden, disquieting increase in harassing attacks that seem completely over-the-top given the rather sedate royal topics being discussed, including fashion, engagements, living arrangements, protocol and even the state of a curtsy or bow. “I have witnessed what amounts to be roving Twitter gangs that find a tweet/blog post about Meghan and kind of rally the troops and stoke up the fires and suddenly you have a hail storm of abuse flowing at you,” explains Jane Barr, who runs the From Berkshire to Buckingham fashion site, which focuses on Kate. “For me, it is very frustrating to write a nuanced analysis and have people just take a black-and-white interpretation and run wild with it.”

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“I think it is indicative of a larger societal problem,” says Barr. “We have an inability to listen to other people, and reason and debate together as a community. The ramifications are obvious for free democratic societies, and very concerning.” In seven years of blogging, Barr has blocked two people for foul language. In the past year, she’s blocked between 15 and 20 for “completely out of control behaviour.”

Royal outrage is complicated by a transatlantic culture clash. Many intense Meghan Markle fans are Americans who don’t understand the monarchy, its place in British society and how there has always been criticism of the family, royal author Victoria Arbiter told the Express. “The American community doesn’t have anything like the royal family so they can only liken them to celebrities or politicians,” she explained. Their lack of knowledge of the intricacies of royal life, protocol and history explains some comments. For instance, they can interpret a photo being posted on a royal feed as a sign of the Queen’s personal approval for Kate or Meghan, their clothes or their behaviour, rather than the work of a member of the royal media department.

“Celebrity rivalries are always conducted by us, the fans, the people who buy the concert or theatre tickets, the records, the merchandise and who send the memes through social media,” contends Ellis Cashmore, a sociology professor at Aston University in England whose book Kardashian Kulture will be published in early 2019. “It helps if there is genuine animosity, but it’s far, far from essential—or even necessary. As long as we think they’re fighting, that’s enough to sustain the feud. We enjoy the feuds so much, we’re tempted to take sides and engage, albeit vicariously. Today, social media has made this easy; so much so that fans can keep the fight going independently of the principals.”

Many stans believe that Meghan and/or Kate don’t like each other and are coming between the close relationship of brothers William and Harry. The reality that the two brothers now have their own families and own priorities doesn’t appear to factor into their online fights. Every new bit of information—Harry and Meghan leaving the tiny two-bedroom Nottingham Cottage around the corner from William and Kate’s London residence for a larger house on the Windsor estate, or reports that they are ending their joint staffing arrangement, established when they were teens—is fought over. To some, the former Meghan Markle is the Yoko Ono of Kensington Palace: “Megan [sic] is the reason for the split between William and Harry,” commented one fan on the royal Instagram feed.

And in the busy autumn season of royal engagements, the war may be at a tipping point. Earlier in 2018, the work schedules of the two popular duchesses didn’t overlap. At the beginning of the year, the focus was on Kate while Meghan slowly dipped her toe into royal engagements. Then, when Kate went on maternity leave in late March, the focus swung back to Meghan, who married Harry in a wedding watched by billions. Kate stayed largely out of the public eye until after Harry and Meghan completed their high-profile tour of Australia, Fiji, Tonga and New Zealand.

But now, both royal women are both doing royal work, both based in their London home of Kensington Palace. And that’s setting up an inevitable “showdown” between how the media covers them—who gets top billing, who gets criticized? The palace, no doubt aware that social media is swimming in bile and acid, appears to be trying to mitigate the intense fan reactions. On Nov. 21, both Meghan and Kate were out and about in London, yet their schedules were carefully timed to not conflict with each other. As well, neither event touched on the subject matter of the other, and neither was announced to the public in advance.

In the morning, the Duchess of Sussex went to the Hubb Community Kitchen. Meghan had been making private visits there since January and, with the help of funds raise by a charitable cookbook she helped create, the women are making 200 meals daily for local groups in the area, devastated by the Grenfell Tower fire. A few hours later, Kate arrived at University College London’s developmental neuroscience lab to be briefed on the latest “research into how environment and biology interact to shape the way in which children develop both socially and emotionally.” Coincidently (or not), both wore outfits in shades of burgundy and plum. The preparations paid off. The Express put the two on its front page with the headline “Double duchess: Kate and Meghan’s copy-cat fashions.” For the record, the large photo was of Meghan, the inset of Kate.

The irony is that the Kate and Meghan stans are engaging in behaviour the royal women they profess to adore would find abhorrent. All four of the young royals are committed to raising the profile of mental health issues, including the negative effects of social media. On Nov. 15, William gave a powerful speech about the harmful effects of cyberbullying: “When I worked as an air ambulance pilot or travelled around the country campaigning on mental health, I met families who had suffered the ultimate loss. For too many, social media and messaging was supercharging the age-old problem of bullying, leaving some children to take their own lives when they felt it was unescapable.”

“I am very concerned though that on every challenge they face—fake news, extremism, polarization, hate speech, trolling, mental health, privacy, and bullying—our tech leaders seem to be on the back foot,” William continued before issuing a challenge: “You have powered amazing movements of social change. Surely together you can harness innovation to allow us to fight back against the intolerance and cruelty that has been brought to the surface by your platforms.”

Cashmore doesn’t see the Kate/Meghan social media battle stopping any time soon. “The beauty of our screen society is that, once people get on their phones or laptops, they become a force majeure—nothing and no one can stop them,” he explains. “If they say there’s an argument, then there’s an argument. Meghan and Kate can deny it all they like; it won’t alter a thing!”

There seems little room for neutral observers. Journalists are taking it from all sides. Any criticism—real or imagined—of one duchess is perceived by many fans as an attack, and also favouritism for the other royal woman. In the past year, virtually every full-time royal correspondent in London issued a plea for tolerance on Twitter. After being accused of everything from bias to racism, Richard Palmer of the Daily Express wrote, “We have all faced unpleasant and unfounded accusations of racism towards Meghan.” He pinned a tweet to the top of his account stating that “with the exception of a few I have known for years, I’ve decided I will only now engage with those who share their real identities.” Some journalists are also blocking extreme fans.

And the attacks don’t just stop at those who critique. The fans demand total loyalty. As Richard Palmer commentedon Twitter, “As far as I can see the pitchfork brigade have just regarded anything not 100-per-cent gushing as racist ever since with no evidence.” Susan Kelley has seen the same: it’s not enough to speak the truth, but they many readers accept only “complimentary, laudatory things.”

Netty Leistra, a veteran Netherlands-based royal journalist and blogger, has tried to avoid the Kate vs. Meghan fight, but an online critic called her a racist a few months ago for saying “absolutely nothing special.” For Leistra, the current phenomenon brings back memories of around 15 years ago, when Australian Mary Donaldson married Crown Prince Frederik of Denmark. In the era before Twitter, Facebook and Instagram, she and a few others ran an online forum about the couple. Soon, the anti-Mary folk were battling with the pro-Mary fans. “The bad thing to us was that we tried to be objective, and in the end we were the ones being attacked for not protecting any of the two sides,” she recounts. In the end, they stopped the forum.

Today, no one thinks things will improve any time soon. Both Kate and Meghan are full-time working royals, both gearing up their charitable activities, Kate after her maternity leave, Meghan as she settles into her new royal role. Perhaps a break will come when Meghan gives birth in the spring and steps away from the public spotlight to concentrate on being a mother. Meanwhile, royal watchers who want to engage in polite conversations and debates are trying to block the more extreme commenters, and hoping tempers will cool—or interest will die down.

[purple-spring]

Coming Home - a SH fanfic

Author's Note: This is my follow-up fic to "Tomorrow" (read on Ao3 or Tumblr), an RPF story based on Sprousehart. RPF isn't everyone's cup of tea, and that's okay and understandable! This is something that I wrote in order to speculate, explore and tease out the nuances and dynamics of this relationship. It is obviously fictional, and was not intended to upset or offend. 

To @jandjsalmon, I owe you so much. You were truly the co-pilot for this fic, and for that I am so grateful. The appearance of our beloved Dylan in this fic is my gift to you. Also to @theladylabyrinth for always checking in, reading and cheering me on, thank you. You are a gem. And to everyone who’s messaged me to tell me excited they were read more of my writing - this is for you. I hope you love it.

Summary: Cole had always wanted Lili, even from the very beginning. Now that they're apart for 48 hours, how does he deal? A companion piece to "Tomorrow", from Cole's perspective.

“On that fateful day in the audition room, Lili was more than radiance; she was fire. That day, without knowing it, he'd seen her at her most passionate and determined, and it drew him in. He wanted that fire. He wanted to live in constant proximity of its warmth. No, fuck it - he wanted to burn.”

Fic under the cut, or read on my Ao3. I love hearing from you. If you read it and loved it, come chat to me.

2.15 am.

For the first time in months, Cole couldn’t sleep.

This is fucking ridiculous. He rubbed his eyes in frustration. Having endured bouts of insomnia in the past, he knew the signs of a sleepless night all too well. Tonight was sure to be one of them. He also knew that all attempts to solve it – breathing exercises, meditation, white noise, a glass of warm milk – were bound for failure.

What am I doing wrong here? He’d gone to bed at a reasonable hour, well aware of the hectic schedule he was about to endure in the next 48 hours. He hadn’t opened his laptop, eliminating the temptation to edit his photos or browse Netflix. He should have been able to sleep easily. And yet here he was, awake and alert. He sighed and picked up his phone to scroll through his last few messages.

One from the fashion editor of Hunger magazine. Another one from Dylan (“see you soon fucker” – Cole smiled at that). And lastly, an image from Damon that the photographer needed an honest opinion on.

But maddeningly, nothing else. He checked the time again. Her plane wasn’t due to land for at least another hour. He clicked the lock button on his phone and tossed it over carelessly to the other side of the bed. Her side. It landed with a dull thump. He turned over and looked at the smoothed-over sheet, its emptiness taunting him.

Who was he kidding? He knew exactly why he couldn’t sleep. He reached over and grabbed his phone again, clicked the home button so he could see his lock screen – an image of her amongst the poppies in Antelope Valley, one he had taken himself but hadn’t put up or published online. She was pulling a silly face, her tongue sticking out, managing somehow to look ridiculous and ethereal at the same time. A small smile formed on his lips.

Fuck. I miss you, Lils.

…

They were going to be apart for only a little over 24 hours. Lili was leaving for New York a day earlier for some other media commitments, and Cole was going to follow after to film the Tonight Show segment with her and the rest of the gang. It wasn’t ideal, but he figured he could try and be productive while she was away.

Which worked out in theory, but not so much in practice. Because now he missed her with an intensity that overruled any sort of attempt at productivity. After many months together, he was just used to having her around - her presence, her laughter, heck, even her smell (a heady mix of mint and amber). In the time that had passed since they returned to Vancouver for Season 2 filming, they’d barely spent a day apart. In fact, ever since they met (at least officially) when they were cast for the show, he had made every effort to see her and to be with her.

Cole first noticed Lili during one of the audition rounds for Riverdale. She was pretty - that much was obvious. At 23 years of age, however, having already been in show business for nearly as long as he’d been alive, he was used to pretty. He was constantly surrounded by it. The trick, he'd soon learn, was knowing how to distinguish pretty from interesting.

And Lili was interesting. He picked up on it moments after he walked into the audition waiting room, when every head swiveled around to gawk at him. Except for hers. Having been accustomed to being stared at and photographed without his consent, it intrigued him. She was sitting on the ground with her head down, her earphones plugged in and her script out on her lap, completely oblivious to the quiet storm of whispers that had erupted after his arrival (“Dude, that’s the guy from Suite Life.” “You sure? I thought that guy was broke and working at a restaurant.” “That was his twin, dumbass”). He decided to sit on the ground across from her. Partially to escape the stares. But mostly so he could look at her.

She looked up as he sat down. He quietly corrected his earlier presumption - she wasn’t just pretty; she was luminous, all light and radiance. Her big green eyes disrupted his composure, taking him in as she gave him a small smile of acknowledgement. He knew that he was done for. He had to get this girl’s number.

But she had other plans. Their brief flicker of shared connection fizzled immediately as she lowered her gaze back to her script, clearly not interested in talking. His mouth had been on the verge of starting a conversation, and he quickly closed it, feeling stupid and a little defeated. He resigned himself to reading over his own audition script. Might as well follow her lead.

A woman with a clipboard stepped out into the waiting room. “Lili Reinhart?”

No answer. The woman repeated her call. A few more times, and still no reply. It started to get awkward. A few hopeful actresses turned this way and that, trying to see if they had the fortune of having one less person to compete against.

Earphones, Cole realised with a start. He stuck out his leg and poked the girl’s foot. She looked up, startled, as he motioned for her to take off her earphones. “Hey,” he said as she pulled them out, “are you Lili?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Lili. He committed her name to memory.

“I think they’re calling you.” She looked up and made eye contact with the clipboard woman, then scrambled to gather her things quickly as she realised that she’d been called up.

“Shit. Thanks for that.” She shot him a grateful look before standing up. “You’re auditioning, too?”

It struck Cole that she actually had no idea who she was. And it exhilarated him. He was a blank canvas to this Lili. He could be anyone to her. He could be himself.

“Uh, yeah.” He flashed her what he hoped was a charming smile.

“Cool. Best of luck.” She grinned in return, then turned to another guy who was sitting on the floor, also with his earphones plugged in. Cole hadn't even noticed him. Lili nudged him with her knee. “Hey, Iz.”

The guy pulled out his earphones. “Yeah?”

“I just got called in.” Lili beamed nervously. “I'll catch you later, okay? Let me know how you go?”

“Sure thing. Go kill ‘em, Lils.” Cole narrowed his eyes. Lils. The guy knew her on a nickname basis. Who the hell was this dude, anyway? He felt oddly territorial.

“Thanks. Oh, and can you please send me that picture you took of me earlier?” The guy nodded. Cole looked at him and sized him up. This ‘Iz’ didn't even have a decent camera. Whatever photo he took of Lili, Cole was betting he could take another one that was a million times better. He quietly resolved that if he's he ever met her again, he would.

Soon, another woman with a clipboard appeared and called out his name. “Cole Sprouse?” The entire room buzzed with curiosity, and quickly hushed as he stood up, making an effort to contain themselves. Cole rolled his eyes at the attempt at cool detachment. He picked up his backpack and packed his script inside.

“Hey, you're Cole?” Lili’s friend smiled up at him, and offered a handshake. Cole took it firmly. “I'm Israel. I'd say good luck, but you know, we're probably going for the same role.”

Cole laughed at that. “Hey, thanks anyway, man.” He felt a little less proprietorial. The guy was here to try out for a role, not to be a potential boyfriend. Jesus. Relax, Cole. They exchanged final pleasantries before Cole went in for his audition.

Later on, pleased and confident at how it went, he stepped back out into the waiting room riding on a high. It was then that he realised that Lili was most likely gone. He looked around, searching for her face, with no luck.

Shit. He was disappointed. He was really hoping to run into her. Maybe even take her out that very afternoon.

Strangely enough, however, he didn't feel completely hopeless. He couldn't explain it at the time, but he had a sense that he'd see her again. Some inkling of fate, or kismet. Many months later, after the cast was finalised and they were doing their first rounds of publicity, it was a conversation with Camila that clarified for him why he was so certain that their paths would cross over again.

“I mean, you were there. Didn't you pick it?” Camila said. “I knew it straightaway - THAT girl was going to be Betty. Hundred percent. You just knew it from looking at her.”

And that was precisely it. On that fateful day in the audition room, Lili was more than radiance; she was fire. That day, without knowing it, he'd seen her at her most passionate and determined, and it drew him in. He wanted that fire. He wanted to live in constant proximity of its warmth. No, fuck it - he wanted to burn.

They would meet again when Roberto called them both in for a chemistry read. She found it hilarious and embarrassing that she had no idea who he was. He, in turn, was bewildered at how quickly he fell, how swiftly he would arrive at the conclusion that he needed (not just wanted – needed) her in his life.

Cole wasted no time pursuing her. They exchanged numbers that day, and he called her later that night. They hung up at 2 am.

The rest, as they say, was history.

…

Cole checked the time again. He decided to wait until he was sure that Lili’s plane had touched down, then he would try to call her.

This is bordering on unhinged, he thought to himself, shaking his head. After all, he'd literally packed her away into her Uber just HOURS before, bending down to kiss her goodbye through the open window, lingering a little too long until her driver rudely interrupted them, yelling, “She's got a flight to catch, lover boy!” Right after she left, he texted Lili, joking that she should give the guy a bad review.

She texted back. Well he did have a point, my friend.

He replied immediately. So did I. I was making it known through the window.

Touché. Point taken. Remind me to give you a rebuttal next time.

Cole loved that. He lived for their banter. He found it incredibly sexy that she could keep up with him, serving barbs and wit as easily as he could. He liked making her laugh, but for some reason, he especially loved it when she would tell him point-blank when he wasn’t being funny. He found something attractive in that naked honesty, her ability to give it to him straight rather than resorting to cheap flattery. It was one of a million different reasons why he loved her.

It still unnerved him how it could have all slipped away so easily. After introducing her to his inner circle, including his brother, he thought they were a done deal. Cole thought his feelings were pretty obvious - he wasn’t seeing anyone else, he spent all his spare time with her and he had introduced her to everyone that mattered in his life. So when she started distancing herself from him, he was alarmed. It took a fateful Baz Luhrmann movie marathon at Debby’s place (and some awesome overnight spooning) to break the tension open, as she unexpectedly confronted him, asking him what he felt for her.

Cole remembered being utterly confused at the time, shocked that she hadn’t picked up on his intentions. He couldn’t think of any words that didn’t sound maudlin or cheap to his ears, so he went right ahead and kissed her. He still remembered every bit of it – her hands at his chest and his neck, his teeth catching on her lip, her breath fast and warm. They had kissed countless times since then, but that was the one he committed most immediately to memory. Not because of the quality of the kiss (which, admittedly, was top-notch), but because it let loose a wild river in him – a savage torrent of thought and emotion that made him want to protect her, dream with her, wake up to her, travel with her, do dumb stuff with her, make love to her. The depth and suddenness of it all startled him, but at the same time he wasn’t completely surprised, because she was Lili, and she was pretty fucking amazing.

Things progressed fairly quickly from then on, and the cast and crew of Riverdale caught on soon enough. It was after a casual comment from Skeet on set (“Cole, where's Lili? Didn't you drive in together this morning?”) that they realised that they had to have The Conversation. The one they’d both been dreading ever since Riverdale was picked up for a second season.

As fun as Riverdale was, they both knew that the rowdy, camp-like atmosphere of the set merely disguised the reality that it was a job for both of them. They were working, and thus, they were co-workers. It was clear to them (to her, in particular) that they needed some personal and professional boundaries if they were going to go forward and co-exist as both lovers and work colleagues.

They were sitting in the backseat of his Jeep, parked just outside of Squamish, his head in her lap, her fingers trailing lazily through his hair. “So, do you think we have to sit everyone down and tell them?” Lili asked.

“Lili, can I be honest with you? Everyone already knows.”

Her face registered surprise. “Wait, so you're telling me Skeet wasn’t just cluelessly making assumptions? Everyone knows knows?” He nodded and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you tell them?”

“No! It’s just like, one of those unspoken things that everyone’s just… assumed.”

“Oh, my god. How do you know this?”

He was quiet for a while. “Cole?” she pressed.

“Okay. People… have asked.”

“They’ve asked? Why haven’t they been asking me?”

“Because they know you’ll be you, and that you’ll be all coy, whereas I on the other hand - and you know this - will basically tell you anything that you ask me.”

“That’s true. You have a terrible poker face.”

“Okay, I know we’re having a serious conversation here, but allow me to digress because honour demands that I defend my name. I’ll have you know that while the saying itself is true of me – ‘cause you’re right, I can’t lie for shit – I happen to be an excellent poker player. Ask Dylan.”

“I have, and he says you’re shocking.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. HOW in the name of fraternal betrayal did you two even have that conversation?”

She giggled. “Totally beside the point. Look, can we focus on the issue here please?” She cupped his face with her hand, looking straight into his eyes. “I’m just worried, Cole. This is a big deal for me, you know. Not just Riverdale, but you. Especially you.”

He smiled at her, teasing. “I’m a big deal, huh?”

She flicked his cheek. “I think you know that.”

“Would I be asking if I did?” She rolled her eyes. He poked her chin playfully. “Come on, tell me how I'm a big deal.”

She bent down to kissed him. “You're annoying, you know that?”

“Oh, without a doubt.”

“But fine. I'll indulge you anyway. You…” She paused to think. “You're a big deal because… well, you're you, Cole.”

He sat up and feigned offense. “OH MY GOD, I knew it. Are you dating me because of my fame?”

“Can you shut up? I mean, you're…YOU. You're intelligent and funny and talented, and yeah okay, pretty damn good-looking-” He made a silly face, and she laughed. “And you're a good guy. You're a good man. And it's all just a little bit overwhelming.”

“What, for you?”

“Yeah, for me.”

“Lili, no offense, but you're an idiot. Honestly, if we weren't dating, I'd be the guy telling you to date someone else. Like, I don't know, KJ.”

“KJ!” Lili burst out laughing.

“Hey, I'm still convinced he was crushing on you at auditions.”

“Yes, you've told me. Like a million times. And that is a hill you are going to die on alone, pal.”

“Hey, whatever. You know I'm right. But… how could you even be overwhelmed? That's like… that's like the sun saying, ‘Oh look, I know I'm the centre of the galaxy and all, but I'm just a little star.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Okay, maybe that's a bad example, because our sun is actually a comparatively small star in the universe. Point is, you're a babe, Lils. You're beautiful, and insanely talented, and smart, and you're a badass. You're fucking pure --”

“Oh-hooo. ‘Pure’, huh? Is someone forgetting what happened last night?”

“Lils, no-one will ever forget what happened last night. No-one in the history of mankind will ever forget what happened last night. I - wait, what the fuck was my point?”

She laughed. “I don't even remember.”

He laughed too. “Hey. C’mere.” He pulled her at the collar and drew her in for a kiss. When he pulled away to look at her, he brushed a lock of hair away from her face and held his hand there. “This is good, you know? What we have.”

“I know. Completely agree.”

“So… I don't know, I'm not super keen on the idea of hiding it away, or making a big deal out of making it, quote-unquote, official.” He shrugged. “We don't have to do anything. We're just us. Me and you. I think we're perfectly capable of doing our jobs right without letting this interfere. And… if people find out, they find out.”

“Okay, and if it goes public…?”

“Then it goes public. Who cares? I mean, I'm never commenting on it. Are you? I mean, did you want to?”

“God, no.”

“So there you go.” He gave her jawline a soft kiss. “Let's just do this, you know? Be you, be me. Be us. If everyone else finds out, we’ll deal with it together. But otherwise, let the chips fall where they may.”

She looked him square in the eye. “Did you just make a Fight Club reference? In the middle of our moment?”

“Yes, because godddamn I love that movie.” Mentally, he also took note of the fact that she knew Fight Club quotes right off the bat, and it was incredibly sexy.

She laughed softly. “Alright then, Cole Mitchell Sprouse.”

“Alright to what?”

“To all of that. To us.” She smiled and kissed him. “Let's do this.”

…

Cole thought back to that conversation with fondness as he got out of bed and made his way to the couch, having forsworn sleep for the night. I am seriously fucked for New York. He swore as he stumbled and tripped over one of her strappy heels in the dark, then smiled to himself when he remembered the simple, early joys of their relationship – finding out that Lili was actually the messier one and had a habit of leaving her shoes everywhere (one time, he found one under his pillow), sneaking quick kisses around the set, walking around Vancouver hand-in-hand at midnight, when they had the least chances of being spotted.

It was a more innocent, uncomplicated time. Then Comic Con happened.

They hadn’t intended to out themselves. But at the same time, their relationship was becoming a reality that was getting harder to deny outside of their immediate circle. Neither of them was really thinking that night, and sure, he could have blamed the alcohol, but really, they just forgot to switch off the normalcy of their relationship. So when she was cold, he gave her his jacket. When they were standing together, he’d hold her hand. When he felt like it, he kissed her. When they were climbing into their car, he held onto her waist protectively.

It was Lili who got the message first. Cole felt her stir awake the next morning, which he thought strange, since she was usually the heavier sleeper. He snuggled into her back and threw his arm around her waist, his lips on the back of her neck. “What time is it?” he whispered groggily.

“Cole.”

It was the heavy, even tone of her voice that alerted him to the fact that something was wrong. His eyes opened and he turned to look at her. She handed him her phone without a word. It was text from their friend, Mad Hill.

“Just a heads up – last night was packed with EW staff, including a friend of mine who was asking some… interesting questions. Can’t say for sure what’ll happen, but I’d keep a low profile today. Missing you two already Xx”

Cole looked over at Lili, who looked rigid with panic. “Entertainment Weekly, Cole,” she said.

“Oh. Is that what EW stands for?” Lame joke. Terrible. Not the time.

“Cole, be serious.”

“Lils, I'm sure it's fine.”

“How do you know it's fine?”

“I don’t know, I just --”

Her phone rang. She looked at the screen and groaned. “Jeff. Fuck.” Her publicist. She threw her phone onto the bed and covered her face with a pillow. Cole looked at her for a moment, deciding she was in no state to take the call. He retrieved her phone from the sheets and answered it for her as she burrowed miserably under the covers. “Hey, Jeff, Cole here -- ah, not right now, no -- yeah we kinda heard, actually -- sure -- right -- actually, uh, is it okay if she gets back to you? -- appreciate it, man -- yeah, you too. Bye.”

Lili uncovered her face and looked at him. “What'd he say?”

“Do you want the good version or the bad version?”

She sat upright. “Bad version. Give it to me.”

“EW is doing a write-up. On us. On last night. They've already contacted Jeff for comment.” Lili closed her eyes in frustration. “He's calling to ask what you wanted him to say.”

Before Lili could react, Cole’s phone buzzed as well - a message. “It's Henry,” he said. His publicist.

“And?”

He opened the message and scanned over it quickly. “Same thing. EW got in touch with him. And People. And a bunch of other outlets.”

They were both quiet as they digested the news - Lili in paralysed alarm, Cole in resignation. It felt surreal to him to have only been asleep in bed with her moments ago, blissfully unaware of the storm gathering around them. And now, their bubble had burst, and the world was starting to spill in.

“What are we going to do, Cole?”

She sighed heavily. He took her hands in his and brought her knuckles to his lips. “Lili. Look at me.”

She raised her head, and he was startled to see tears pooling in her eyes. He had the makings of a well-crafted speech about how none of this mattered, that they would just have to lie low until it blew over, but all of that dissolved on his tongue. It broke something in him to see her this vulnerable. Of course he’d seen Lili cry before, but this was different. Because he was culpable. He was implicated in those tears. Somewhere along the line, his presence in her life had contributed to them. And knowing that invoked both a fierceness and a tenderness in him. In seeing her vulnerability, he saw his own. And it was all tied up in her.

He realized then and there that he couldn’t just give her the verbal equivalent of a shrug. And that there was nothing he would have taken back from last night. Because it was real, all of it. That night, he didn’t want to leave her side, and he couldn't care less whether anyone else noticed. And he knew that he’d said that before - that he didn't care what was said about them - but this time, faced with the possibility of being publicly touted as a couple, he realised that he actually meant it.

He was silent for many moments. Lili looked at him expectantly. At last, he found the words. Of at least the word. And it wasn’t what either of them was expecting.

“Canoodling.”                        

If tears could be retracted, Lili’s would have rolled right back. “I’m... sorry?”

“I’m telling my publicist to use that word. Or to tell someone to use it. When they're describing… well, us. Might as well laugh about it, right? Take ownership of the narrative and all that shit.”

“‘Canoodling’, what the fuck?” Soon Lili was caught between laughing and sniffling back her tears. He'd never been so relieved to hear her laughter. “Cole, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that… maybe it’s time.” He heard Lili’s soft, sudden intake of breath. “Maybe I'm okay with people knowing.”

“Are you--”

“Only if it's fine with you,” he added hurriedly.

Lili reached out and traced his eyebrow. “I mean, yeah, but… Cole, we said we wouldn’t talk about this. At least not in public.”

“I'm not saying we're talking. I'm saying that I'm okay with people knowing. There’s a difference.” He sighed. “If people say that they saw us last night, I can’t get mad at that. I was with you. I did kiss you. I canoodled with you.” Lili chortled at that. “And if someone pipes up and says that I did all that with Lili Reinhart… well, shit, I should be so lucky, right?”

Lili smiled. “Damn right, you’re lucky.” She exhaled shakily, seeming to relax.

“Look,” he said. He cradled her face in his hands and brought it close, close enough so that he could feel her breathe. “Either way, I really don’t care. As far as I can tell, nothing changes this. Nothing changes us. So a few more people know - who gives a shit? I'm still me, and you're still you, and this is still ours. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said. And when he finally kissed her, he felt as if her lips were his ballast amidst the craziness they'd just found themselves in. He kissed her with abandon - desperately, hungrily, as if by kissing he could erase her worry, her fear, her panic. He gathered her in his arms and pulled her down until they were tangled in the sheets again, just as they were when he first woke up.

“I love you,” he said, his breath ragged as he pulled away, just briefly, just enough so he could tell her. “So fuck it. Let the whole world know.”                                                        

…

Cole ended up passing out on the couch that night, his phone in his hand. When he woke up and checked it, he realised that Lili had tried to FaceTime him. He knew there was no point in calling back – she’d already be getting ready with her style team and had a full day of press engagements ahead of her. He sent her a selfie, adding, “Look where I fell asleep.”

Three dots. She was replying. “Nice.” Then, “I miss you xx”

He groaned. How was he supposed to respond to that, when he literally could not sleep without her? He typed a few joke messages into the text box, just to mess around. “I miss you too and I’m pretty sure that re-triggered my insomnia.” “Yeah so I found out that I actually can’t sleep unless your foot does that annoying thing where it’s freezing and tries to steal my body warmth, so thanks.” “I have no idea how sleep works without you anymore, send help?”

He kept typing and deleting each one. After a while, she texted again. “Wtf are you typing, an essay?”

Cole laughed to himself. Never mind. “Nothing, just messing around.” Then, “I fkn miss you babe xx”

By the time he flew into New York, he was desperate to see her. He took the red-eye from Vancouver and arrived in the early hours of the morning, excited to wake her up, annoy her, hold her and fall back asleep. So when he arrived at the hotel and was told that he’d be rooming with KJ (apparently the girls needed adjoining suites for their teams to help them get ready together), it took considerable energy not to explode. He knew it was completely fair – after all, this trip was on the Riverdale account, and they shouldn’t have to accommodate him and Lili. Still, not seeing her rankled him, and when he walked into his suite, he gruffly ignored KJ, who was happily munching on room service fries. He plonked himself in bed, eventually settling into a fitful, oft-disturbed sleep.

The following day passed by in a blur. He met up and hung out with Dylan, which helped lift his mood, and texted Lili throughout the day, and before he knew it, he was due back at NBC Studios to get ready for the show.

Backstage at the Tonight Show was a brilliant mess, and it briefly reminded him of why he enjoyed working in television. The Roots, hip-hop legends and the Tonight Show’s house band, were ruling the roost like kings, while the Cyrus family and their entourage made him momentarily nostalgic for his Disney days. If he hadn't been so sullen, he probably would have enjoyed it a little bit more. Instead, he spent most of the time sitting in companionable silence with KJ, occasionally ducking out for a smoke with Dylan, and wondering when Lili would arrive.

By 3.30 PM, Cole was in a mild panic, wondering why he couldn't find her anywhere. The usual call time for guests of the show was 3.15 PM, and he still hadn't spotted her. At one point he saw Madelaine rushing past, which meant the girls had arrived. When he tried to talk to her, however, she blurted out, “Can't! I'm looking for my shoes!”

A crew member soon appeared at his side to usher him quickly to the green room to film a web exclusive for the Tonight Show. He was so tired and churlish that he barely had time to react when he walked into the room and finally, finally saw Lili - a vision in red and black - talking animatedly with Dylan.

The room felt drained of air and charged with pure voltage. He felt energy coursing through his body as he fought off every urge to scoop her up in his arms, kiss her senseless and carry her off and out of the studio. He began to approach her, but was quickly overtaken by one of the stage managers, who clapped his hands together to get their attention.

“Right, do we have everyone here? Okay, so Lili, we need you to hold these cards and read the descriptions out - the rest of you just need to pick the person that each description applies to.” The cast nodded along. “Smile, interact with each other, and most importantly, have fun! Alright? Okay, can we have everyone sitting on the couch, please?”

Cole grabbed Lili’s hand, perhaps a little roughly, as she made her way to the couch. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she said, her eyes registering surprise at the sudden, desperate devotion of the gesture. She gave him a questioning look. “You okay?”

“Okay, Riverdale cast, places!”

Cole groaned inwardly and took a spot next to Lili on the end of the couch.  He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You think they'll notice if you and I just took off?”

She giggled, then gave him a stern look. “You know, Cole, I think they might,” she replied in mock seriousness. “But then again, you could probably argue that the commercials stated that the CAST of Riverdale would be on. They never actually mentioned WHICH members of the cast. So technically, if we're talking legal obligation…”

He shook his head, grumpy and glowering. “Don't tempt me.” Lili gave him a sympathetic look and kissed him lightly on the cheek. He looked up and saw Dylan behind the film crew, who grinned at the two of them and mouthed one word silently at his twin: “whipped.” Cole sneered at him.

The web exclusive was filmed quickly, with Cole switching seamlessly into professional mode. At one point, he propped himself up on the arm of the couch and Lili casually rested her arm on his leg, all too aware of his peevish mood. After her extended absence, the small gesture steadied and reassured Cole.

“Alright, cut! Thanks, guys.”

Lili stood up, but Cole was quick; he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in to hug her, burying his face in her stomach. She was surprised, but brought her hand up to run her fingers gently through his hair. “Hey, stranger,” she said. “You okay there?”

Cole mumbled something unintelligible.

“Leave him, he’s being a fucking baby, Lils,” Dylan called out from across the room. KJ laughed. Lili rolled her eyes at them while Cole gave them the finger, his head still burrowed into her waist.

Lili gave his head one last affectionate ruffle before disentangling herself to rush off for final touch-ups. Cole saw her once more, briefly, just before the show began, when she came over to catch up with Dylan. As annoyed as he was that they couldn't be alone, it filled him with quiet pride that he had a girlfriend that his brother not only approved of, but got along with.

As filming began, so too did Cole’s internal countdown - he had mere hours left before he had her all to himself. He was far too tired, far too gone to bring himself to care about how his ardor made him look. At one point during a commercial break, she looked over to him with a small, flirtatious smile playing on her lips, and he couldn't help it - he casually sauntered over, pulling her into his arms as she leaned into his embrace. He tucked his head against hers and kissed the hollow of her temple. She tilted her head up to whisper something to him.

“Cole?”

“Mmm.”

“You smell good.”

“Thanks. It's my natural musk.”

Lili chuckled. The stage manager began the countdown to their next shot. He hesitatingly began to let go, but she held on for a fraction longer.

“Cole?”

“Yes?”

A brief pause. “I'm hungry.”

Cole burst out laughing. “Just a little longer, babe,” he muttered into her cheek, before letting go. It was for her as much as it was for him. He willed himself to patience as they prepared for their last interview.

…

Dylan sat on one end of the green room couch as Cole packed his stuff up. KJ was elsewhere backstage, and given that they barely saw each other, Cole was grateful to have a few quiet moments with his brother.

Dylan was scrolling mindlessly through his phone when he piped up. “Cole.”

“Yeah.”

He put his phone down. “So… this is going to sound a bit lame and, you know, mawkish, but…” He cleared his throat. This was weird for both of them. “You really love Lili, don’t you?”

Cole scoffed. It felt trivial to say yes. He looked at Dylan, who understood.

“So… are you going to do anything about it?”

“What do you mean, am I gonna do anything about it?”

“Well… you know,” Dylan looked at him, a little surprised that he didn't catch his drift. “You were kind of a mess without her earlier.”

“I was?”

Dylan laughed. “KJ asked me if you were on your period.”

“How original.”

“I told him no, but then again I've heard that being on the pill can be a real bitch, so as the male twin I've learned to steer clear.”

Cole guffawed, then aimed a crumpled piece of paper at Dylan’s head. He missed. “Shit aim, baby brother,” Dylan gloated.

“Yeah, well I was blinded by the light bouncing of your flowing golden tresses.”

“Don't be jealous now.”

“I’m sorry, but did Seventeen magazine call your hair ‘a thing of beauty’? I think not.”

“Ha! Lils actually sent me that article.”

“I remember. The two of you feasted on that in the group chat for days.”

They both laughed and fell quiet. The kind of quiet that only twin brothers could share. Dylan looked over at Cole. “I’m crazy about her, Dyl.”

“Yeah, I know. I can tell. She’s pretty great.”

“She’s the best.”

“And so this is what I’m saying.” Dylan stood and pulled up a chair closer to Cole. Cole called this his Alpha Brother move. Whenever it came out to play, it meant that Dylan was about to hand down some serious advice.

“Really? You’re going Alpha Brother?”

“Yeah, I’m going Alpha Brother. But I’ll make it quick.” Dylan ran his hand through hair and looked directly at his twin. “Do not. Fuck. This. Up.”

Cole rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Thanks for the vote of confidence, man.”

“No. I mean, for you. Don't fuck this up for yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

Dylan cocked an eyebrow at his brother. “What are you like without her, Cole?”

Cole thought of the previous two nights. The lack of sleep. The prickling anxiety. The inexplicable ache. “Pretty fucking sad, I'll admit.”

“Yeah. I believe I got a text message 3 am Vancouver time asking me what my favourite cereal was.”

“Well, in fairness, I had to know. Is it still Frosted Flakes? Or have you now been converted to Honey Nut Cheerios? Actually, you never replied to me.”

“I thought you were drunk, to be honest.”

“Nah, just embarrassingly miserable.”

“And what about Lili?”

“What about her?”

“Well, does she know what you're like? And what's she like when you leave? You're like the enfant terrible of the fashion world now, how does she feel when you have to go?”

Cole opened his mouth to reply, then halted himself. He wasn’t sure that they ever had a real conversation about it. Lili is super chill though, he thought to himself. They had a routine: she was usually in bed when he left, he'd text her when he landed, and she was happy to see him when he came back. She usually left him to his own devices during shoots, preferring to give him space to focus on his work. And he loved her for that.

But he did wonder sometimes what it was like for her. To say goodbye to him so often, when they were the closest thing to family for each other in Vancouver. A jarring image suddenly flashed through his mind of Lili alone at the apartment, doing exactly what he did 24 hours before: refusing to sleep in the bed, choosing the couch over the mocking emptiness of his side. His heart twinged at the thought of her leaning her head on the throw pillows, waiting for a text message, falling asleep, then waking up to no-one.

“Cole? You're kind of leaving me hanging here.”

Dylan’s voice snapped Cole out of his thoughts. He glanced at his brother. “I mean, she knows it's my job,” he began. “But… to be honest, I haven't really asked her.”

“Well, can I be frank with you? You sure as shit need to start asking her soon. Because if she's even half as bad as you are when she's not within arm’s reach, I'd say that this is the real deal for both of you, and in that case, you have some serious thinking to do.”

“What the hell? Are you telling me to propose?”

“Dude, no! I'm just saying, what were you planning on doing after Vancouver? After Riverdale? Do you still want her in your life?”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied firmly. He had never been so sure of anything in his life.

“Then do yourself a favour and start acting like you want to make it happen. Don't let yourselves just figure it out and wing it along the way. Because this thing that you two have? It's... epic.”

Cole looked down at his hands, turning this over in his mind.

“Look, I know you're smart enough that you won't let this go. You're way too happy for that.”

“I am.”

“What I'm saying is, make it tangible. Start imagining it beyond the confines of your little bubble, beyond tomorrow.” Dylan leaned forward in his seat. “Start making it real, Cole.”

Cole was silent. His brother sat back in the chair, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don't know, does any of that make sense?”

A million images were flashing through Cole’s mind. Lili at the audition, her earphones plugged in. On the balcony of Debby’s place, watching the sunset, laughing with him. On the Riverdale set, her eyes steely and focused and avoiding his, right before their first onscreen kiss. In his Jeep, her arm hanging out of the window, her hand making waves in the wind. At Coachella, dancing freely and without a care in the world. In Antelope Valley, among the poppies. In the morning, asleep in his arms.

“Yeah,” he said finally, smiling. “It does.”

...

Cole was standing outside the girls’ dressing room. Camila and Madelaine had already gone ahead to eat, and Lili was the last to get cleaned up. He stepped in just as she slipped her jacket on. She perked up when she saw him. “Hey,” she said, smiling as they made eye contact through the mirror.

“Hey,” he said, standing a little away from her, looking at her reflection in wistful marvel. As beautiful as she was earlier, this was his favourite Lili – casual, freshly scrubbed, unadorned, purely her. “You got a second?”

Lili turned around. “Always.” She tugged playfully on the front of his shirt to pull him closer. “But first –“ She tilted her head up, smiling, and pulled him down for a swift, sweet kiss. “Okay, now I’m good. What’s up?”

He seated himself on one of the bar stools in the room. In his head, he could hear Dylan’s voice. Start making it real, Cole. He took a deep breath. “So, uh, I’m not sure if you were fully aware of this, but… I was sort of fucked up these past 48 hours or so.”

“Really, now?” Lili smiled mischievously, wanting him to elaborate. “And what did those 48 hours happen to coincide with?”

“Well, obviously, you were away. I was a mess without you.”

“Aw, I know. I missed you, too, Cole.”

“No, you don't understand. This wasn’t just… that.” He shook his head. “Look, I’m just gonna be real vulnerable here, okay? I was actually pretty anxious while you were gone.”

Lili’s eyes immediately filled with concern. “You were?”

“I couldn’t sleep, Lils.” He rubbed his eyes. He was just starting to realise how exhausted he still was. “That first night, my body literally just folded from exhaustion after staying up all night. I couldn’t fall asleep in bed, because you weren’t there. It just didn’t feel right.”

Lili sighed in sympathy. Her hand reached around and caressed the back of his neck. She always did that when he felt tense. He reached up and intertwined his fingers with hers, bringing them to his lips before holding them in his own, tucked firmly against his chest.

“To be honest, it got me thinking. And I’m probably the shittiest boyfriend in the world not to have figured this out sooner, but… while you were gone, I realised that I go away a lot. I’m gone for whole weekends. For shoots and stuff. And of course I miss you then, but I’ve got the work to keep me busy, you know? But, for you…”

“Cole, let me stop you there, okay? You are amazing at what you do. And I love it. Seriously. I never, ever want you to apologize for being away on a shoot, for doing your job. If I've ever indicated otherwise, I'm --”

Cole cut in. “Lils, no. This isn’t about that. I know you support me. Trust me, I know that. But, babe, you gotta be honest with me.” He used his free hand to pull her closer so that she was flush against his body. “How I felt when you were away, what it was like for me... is that… does that bear any resemblance to what it’s like for you when I’m gone?”

“Cole, I –“

“Just… please?”

Lili sighed. She was silent for a few moments, as if she was weighing something in her mind. “Okay. You know those nights when I’m basically texting you a play-by-play of whatever shitty movie I’m watching?”

“Yeah? By the way, your in-depth analysis of Dirty Grandpa was a thing of beauty.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me,” she said, laughing. “Yeah, well, it's not just my attempt at being Roger Ebert. It’s my way of keeping you around without… you know, being all clingy and sad.”

Cole nodded. It made sense. Still, his heart clenched at the image – the TV’s neon blare reflecting off Lili’s face as she watched one terrible movie after another, clutching sleepily at her phone, just like he did, waiting for him to call.

She continued. “Look, Cole, really… I’m fine. Honestly. I just… I don’t want you to feel like you’ve got this tragic figure waiting for you back in Vancouver, you know? I want you to be free to pursue your passion, because it’s one of the things I love about you. But obviously, sometimes…” she trailed off.

“Sometimes…?”

She tangled her fingers in his hair, one hand playing with his stubborn forelock. “Have you ever read The Alchemist?” she asked.

“Once, ages ago.”

“I loaned it recently from the library. And there’s this part in it, when Santiago – you remember him, right? The protagonist?” Cole nodded. “Well, Santiago meets this woman, Fatima, at a desert oasis, and they fall in love. Only problem is, he's about to go on a quest for his treasure.”

“Because of what a gypsy told him, right?”

“Right. So she’s seen all these women around her losing their men to the desert and she realises that she'll be one of them now. That she's gonna have to stay back and wait as well. And she's amazing. She’s so strong and resilient, but still, she cries. Santiago asks her why. And her reply was this - ‘I am a woman of the desert, but above all, I'm a woman.”

Cole started to interrupt, but Lili stopped him.

“I know you have to go away sometimes, Cole. And I want you to. Your work…” She stopped to take a deep breath. “Do you know that sometimes, when I see your work, I actually get emotional?” Cole smiled at that. “I’m serious. It’s because I know where it's coming from. I know that it comes from a deep place of passion and joy and that it basically saved you from a dark place. So when you go on shoots, you take all of that with you. It feeds you. It energizes you. And so… even though I feel lonely when you go, and I watch awful movies and eat terrible food, it makes me happy. Because it makes you happy.”

“But, Lils,” he interjected. “Can’t you see that I don’t want that? I don’t want a reality where your happiness is an after-effect of mine. I don’t want that damn desert woman metaphor. Or, okay, maybe I want it, but you need to understand that it works both ways. Because I'm not the only one going out to the desert, and you're not the only one waiting. We're both going. We're both waiting. I’ve got my own stuff to chase, but Lils, look at you. You’re on your own ascent. And honestly? I am fucking here for it.”

Lili smiled at that, a little shyly. “Thanks.” She cupped his face in her hands. “So… what? What are we saying here, Cole?”

“What I’m saying is…” He paused and let out a breath. “These last 48 hours have been hellish, but that won’t be the last time that I can’t get to sleep without you. And let’s face it, Dirty Grandpa’s not gonna be your last shitty movie commentary, either.”

Lili laughed at that. “No, it won’t.”

“It’s just how our lives are, you know? We’ll both be coming and going, in and out of Vancouver, all the time. And normally, I’m used to it. I’m a nomad. I’ve lived everywhere and I’ve never been afraid to be alone and unsettled and adrift. But… here’s the thing.” He leaned in, his forehead against hers, their eyes locked into each other’s. “I’ve never felt homesick before. Not until now. Not until you.”

Time stood still as he watched Lili take this in. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Because you’re home to me, Lili.”

He could almost feel it sinking into her, her sharp intake of breath, her eyes misting over. “Look, I honestly don’t know what life will be like for us, post-Riverdale. I can’t promise you anything. All I know is… wherever you are, whether it's Vancouver or LA or New York or fucking Timbuktu, I want to live in that sphere. And wherever my path takes me, I want to know that I can turn right around and follow it back to you.”

Silence. She kept her eyes down. He panicked slightly. Was this all too much for her? “Is that… are you okay with that?”

Lili looked up at him, her green eyes shining with tears, and the resolution of an unspoken vow. She didn’t say anything. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him with a passion that left nothing uncertain. I love you, it said, as her lips parted to meet his. I miss you, it uttered, as her teeth caught his lower lip. I want you, it declared, as she broke off - to his dismay - only to have her pull him down to her neck. His breath was rapid on her bared shoulder, his mouth leaving a trail of warmth.

When they finally broke apart, Cole felt emptied - of everything she had taken from him, every ounce of himself that he had promised to her. She smiled up at him, and in that moment he swore that her beauty was a madness he would refuse to recover from. So this is making it real. He smiled back. He was exhilarated. Maybe Alpha Brother was right, after all.

He rubbed her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I am,” she replied. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Cole grinned. “I do. I love you, too.” He pulled her in for an embrace. They stayed like that for a while. They could hear the sounds of packing up outside - footsteps hurrying past, people yelling out their goodbyes - but they were in no hurry. Finally, she leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

“Cole?”

“Yep.”

“I'm still hungry.”

He burst out laughing. “We’ll find you something to eat. Did you wanna do anything after? We might have a bit of time before the flight.”

“Nah, I'm good.” Her gaze softened as she looked at him. She pressed one last kiss on his lips. “Let’s go home, Cole.”

…

Ding.

The seatbelt signs were finally switched off. Cole pulled off his headphones and grabbed a blanket to cover himself with - another attempt at sleep.

The first class pods they'd been given for the flight back were an unexpected luxury. But for Cole, they were a necessity. He needed to stretch out so that he could comfortably doze off. As the lights dimmed for the darker portion of the flight, he started the process of willing himself to fall asleep.

Lili was in the pod next to him. Looking at her, his heart was full. Who knew what would come out of the conversation they had earlier? All he knew was that there was a shift in the air between them. Neither of them had any idea what the next year would bring, but he’d at least told her what she now meant to him. And that was a step in the right direction.

He was startled when he looked up and saw that she'd left her seat. He didn't expect to see her when he turned back around. Or for her to yank off his blanket so suddenly (“Hey, my security!” he half-yelled. Camila gave them both a funny look before shrugging and getting back to her magazine). Or to sit herself in his lap, bury her head on his chest, and pull the blanket back over them. He gave her a bemused look.

“Alright. Are we really doing this?”

Lili smirked. “Sure, fuck it. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.” He smiled when he recognised the line - it was his. It was from their conversation at Debby’s place, when he first told her how he felt for her.

“Seriously though, Lils, this can't be comfortable for you. I mean, it's a big pod, but how do you expect --”

“Just shut up and close your eyes, Cole.”

He smiled at that. He loved it when she bossed him around. Slowly but surely, he felt his limbs getting heavy and his eyelids drooping with fatigue. Having her there really made all the difference. He relaxed, and soon all the anxiety that had tightened his body earlier was now slowly melting away in her warmth.

His last lucid thought before surrendering to rest was this: right up there in the air, hovering somewhere between New York and Vancouver, he felt at peace. And as he looked down at Lili snoozing in his arms (he envied her ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime so quickly), he knew that it was all because of her. This was all that he needed. She was all that he needed.

They were hours away from any city he had ever lived in, but Cole knew the truth: he was finally home.

[orangewritesstuff]

Michael In The Bathroom... But Not By Himself.

Authors Note: I DID IT, GUYS. MY FIRST NOT-HC WRITING. AND WITH MICHAEL, LOOK, IT’S AWESOME! So, enjoy, I guess? I love my boy so much, omg.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of alcohol, mention of drugs, panic attacks, female reader, bad grammar, boring title.

Summary: Michael in the bathroom having a panic attack, when a girl storms in. 

WC: 1781, I guess?

Inspiration: MICHAEL IN THE BATHROOM, DUH.

Michael looked at his phone. 10:09 pm. This didn’t help him — he forgot how long he was here, in the bathroom. He didn’t even remember when exactly Jeremy left him here. Five minutes ago? Ten? Half an hour? No, not the last option, that would be too long. He sat in the bathtub with his legs pressed to his chest. Bathtub was actually big enough for him to straighten them. But, even though his legs were starting to feel sore, he didn’t do this. All he wanted to do is curl into a ball. Or, even better, he wanted to teleport in his room, get stoned and forget about this party, about Jeremy, about everything that happened today. Maybe it was just a dream. Or a nightmare more likely. Michael sighed. He could hear the loud music through the door, screams and loud, obviously drunk laugh. Maybe he can go now? It’s not like anyone would notice that he is not there. After all, no one invited him in the first place. He didn’t even know half of people here. No one will notice if he’ll disappear from party, so there’s no harm done, right?

No one knows him. There, at this party, no one knows anything about him. Maybe his name, but anything else? He doubt it. His thoughts became more and more depressing. Is this how anxiety works? This is what people feel when they have an attack? Even the thought about attack made him more nervous. Who will help him if he’ll have a panic attack? Jeremy is somewhere there, having fun, drinking, maybe making out with hot girls. Isn’t it is what “cool” people doing at parties like this? Oh, just stop thinking about your best friend, who left you in a bathroom alone, Mell! He thought angrily, gritting his teeth. It’s not like you should care that he called you a fucking loser. It’s not like anyone cares. Michael buried his face in his arms, hugging his knees closer to his chest. And then little voice at the back of his mind spoke, almost snickering. It’s not like anyone cares about you, loser. His eyes widened, when he realized that little voice was Jeremy’s voice. Michael felt his eyes watering. Great. Now he is crying. A crying creeper in the bathroom. What could be better than this? He didn’t know how long he was there, sobbing in the bathtub behind the curtain. He almost lost himself in thoughts, full of self-loathing. Maybe that’s why he almost jumped when he heard sudden noise of the door, opening with a loud slam. Oh. He forgot to lock it. Well, at least the person, who stormed inside of the bathroom and shut the door, clearly closed it; Michael heard the snap of the lock. He didn’t even think that he is now locked in the bathroom, at a party, with a stranger, who is… crying? Person rushed to the sink and turned on the faucet. There was no light, but Michael’s eyes already accustomed to the darkness, so he could at least see that person was definitely a girl. He didn’t know what to do. He felt like shit and now there’s another girl, who will shout at him if she’ll find out that he is here. She will call him a pervert and yell, and everyone will know that he is here. And everyone will laugh. And gossip about the stoner Michael Mell who sits in the bathroom at the party just to get off looking at people. Yeah, something like that if not worse. Awesome. Awesome party. Oh, he is so fucking glad that he came here. He heard girl splash water at her face, her sobbing growing quieter with each sob. She turned water off, walked a few steps and sat down on the floor with her back pressed against the wall. “God, I hate parties…” Michael heard her whispering. He tried to stay as quiet as possible, his breath hitching now and then. He didn’t recognize the voice. She must’ve been one of those people, whose names and faces he didn’t know at all. She… She won’t go away, will she? She is just like him, he realized. Hiding. Someone knocked at the door, but neither Michael nor girl made a sound. Someone knocked again. And again. Someone obviously was growing impatient. The girl didn’t answer. Michael shiver. Person behind the door was probably drunk. Oh no, they’re gonna start to shout soon. Yeah, they’re shouting now. Too loud. Why won’t she just answer? BANG BANG BANG BANG Can’t they just go away? BANG BANG BANG BANG Just tell them to go away! BANG BANG BANG BANG 

Why the fuck can’t you just shout at them, goddammit!

BANG BANG BANG BANG PLEASE JUST DO SOMETHING, MAKE IT STOP, MAKE THEM GO AWAY, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE…. “Hey! Hey, can you hear me?” Who’s that? “Just breathe, ok? Focus on my voice! In and out…” In and out? I can’t even feel myself breathing, how am I supposed to breathe at this speed? “Come on, in and out… You can do this. Slow. In and out. In… and out…” Michael obeyed the voice, trying to slow his breathing. He was sobbing again, he realized, sobbing and whining and clinging to something soft and warm. And his eyes were closed. So he opened them. Only to find himself squeezing the hands of the girl. Michael looked up to meet her worried gaze. He couldn’t see the color of her eyes in the dark, but he noticed now that she was in the bathtub with him. They were lucky that the tub was big enough for them both to fit. “In and out,” she repeated, smiling at him. She looked like mess. Just like himself, he was sure. Michael was shaking but at least his breathing was calm now. She waited a few more minutes and then spoke up. “You shouldn’t sit there alone with a panic attack. Michael, right?” He nodded, then looked at her questioningly. “We have math together. I’m Y/N.” Oh. He knew her after all. Well, at least he heard her name during the roll call. Now, when he was calm enough to think, he studied her. Huh, simple green hoodie with two blue vertical stripes and two yellow dots at the end of the stripes and jeans and white gloves and green cap… Oh. My. God. “Are you… Are you Luigi?” Her costume wasn’t accurate, sure, but it looked good. Not on her. Just good. Well, on her too, but. “Yep. I would’ve dress as Peach, but I didn’t want to go here in dress, so.” “Oh my god…” Michael couldn’t suppress a laugh. “This is amazing!” “Hey, stop laughing.” Despite her tone, she smiled. “I just calmed you down from a panic attack, that’s not how you supposed to act after it.” “No, no, thank you, actually, um… Y/N.” He coughed for some reason. “Aren’t you… creeped out or something? I mean, it seems like you were going to hide here and then there’s me, sitting here… It’s creepy, no?” “Not if you’re crying in the bath.” She let go of his hands - Michael only now noticed that he was still holding them, — and moved to the other side of the tub. “So. Wanna talk about it?” “There’s not that much to talk about.” Michael took off his glasses and wiped them with his t-shirt. “My buddy kinda left me alone. Called me a loser and left.” “Fuck him.” “I guess. You?” “My friends left me to get the drinks and then some jerk tried to get in my pants. So I ran off.” Y/N shrugged, looking at him. “Fuck him.” “I guess.” She laughed and smiled at him a little. Michael returned the smile. “So. Have any good music?” “Marley. Mostly 90s. Why?” “Tired of shit playing downstairs. Some drunk girl find a mic and started singing…” “Whitney? ‘I wanna…” “…dance with somebody’, yes!” “I heard it too. She was awful.” “Actually, it was pretty good. I mean, she made a great impersonation…” “…of a dying seal.” They’re both burst out laughing. It wasn’t even that fun, but for some reason Michael found himself laughing his guts off till his belly hurt. After glancing at Y/N, who threw her head back at the wall, he knew she felt the same. Who would’ve known that there’s still someone to make fun of drunk girls with him. “We’ve just met and already finishing each other sentences? What are we, soulmates?” She joked and Michael chuckled, rubbing his neck. “So… About music? I have earbuds and I can tolerate Marley and 90s.” “We need to get out from tub, then.” “Floor?” “Floor it is.” *** Michael never actually noticed Y/N before. But turned out that they have something in common. They both liked music, sushi and slushies. She wasn’t as nerdy about 90s as he was, but she had old Dendy from her older brother and a bunch of games she liked to play sometimes. She was actually nice looking too. Not the most beautiful or the hottest girl he ever saw, but still very pretty in her own unique way. And Michael liked it. He liked her laugh, even when she sounded a bit too loud. It was strange, but it helped him forget about whole Jeremy thing. Michael didn’t even notice that watch on his phone showed 12:13 am (i dunno how to write midnight right, so, sorry). The party still was going on full-on and no one knocked again. It was weird, but Michael and Y/N didn’t want to think about it. It was actually amazing. They didn’t know anything about each other when they met in here. And now, after hour or more of talking, they were almost like friends. Not close and not best, but definitely not strangers. “Want to get out of here?” Michael stood up, stretched his back — it ached a little after hours of sitting. Then he turned around to look at Y/N with a smile and, for some reason, with a blush. He held out his hand without a second thought, and realized that it’s probably stupid too late. Michael almost panicked, but was more than surprised when Y/N took his hand and stood up too. “What exactly do you have in mind?” She smirked, but it was more of a soft smirk than a smug one. Michael coughed awkwardly and smiled a little. “Get stoned in my basement?” “I don’t smoke, actually.” She looked a bit embarrassed, almost as if there was something she should’ve been ashamed of. “Oh. Then video games?” “I guess I’m lucky that my parents are out of town, huh? Video games it is then. But only if we’ll stop by 7/11. I want to mix all of the sodas in one cup!” Michael laughed and led her to the door. “Sounds good to me” They walked out of bathroom hand in hand. It would’ve been awkward. It should’ve been awkward, but it wasn’t. They didn’t notice a few stares and whispers. Because right now, for some reason, it all felt right. Even if his best friend was an asshole because of this SQUIP — it didn’t matter right now. Y/N and her hand in his, video games and 7/11 — that’s what mattered. Awesome party. Michael thought. I’m so glad I came.

To be continued?