#Excuse any mistakes I might have missed I have read it a billion times and can't notice anything anymore

[matrixsss]

The Art of Matchmaking  

Lucien Vanserra x Reader

A/N; Hello Hello, so this is my first fic for acotar. I haven't written in a while so this is very nervewrecking. First I gotta thank some peeps who have helped and gave me encouraging words; @pixelcookiez for encouraging me, reading this through and helping me out! @chunkypossum for your kind words and offering to help me out, you gave me the push I needed to write so thank you. @mathiwrites for telling me I got this when I felt I didn't got this lol.

Hope you all enjoy this little thing and let me know what you think!

Read on AO3 or below.

Summary; Helion tries to hook you up with his son Lucien.

Act 1: Knowledge 

Helion looked at you with a deep knowledge in his eyes, you could sense the amusement that rolled from him. All of it directed at your expense. You knew his unspoken provocation is a trap, a game if you will, you knew, yet that did not stop you from walking towards your High Lord. As you neared his side, you could see a person standing next to him that made you stop in your tracks.  

His brows lifted as he anticipated what you will do, and you realised that he knew. He knew of your centuries old crush on the only heir of Day. How does he know? You hadn’t spoken a word of your feelings for the red-haired fox, hell you hadn’t even written about it anywhere. A lazy smirk appeared on the current high lord, expecting, waiting. Ah, you quickly realised how fucked you were. But you convinced yourself that he did not know of anything, he couldn’t. There was absolutely no way that he knew, you hadn’t peeped a word of your crush to anyone, certainly not him.  

A small comfort in the presence of his knowing look, that instantaneously disappeared when you reached the two males.  

“Ah, I half expected you to ignore the invitation.” Helion Paused “Glad to be proven wrong.”  

His words were an invitation to play this little mind game he had in place, the growing smile on his face proving your thoughts right.  

You directed a tight, uncomfortable smile at your high lord, completely ignoring the fox standing beside you. He looked just as handsome as he did every day, clad in day court garments, his chest out decorated by golden chains that went across his shoulders. You lightly bowed your head at Lucien who did the same. 

“Do you not recall the wording on my personal invitation? I felt like I had to come.” Your voice was even as you accepted his invitation to both this overbearing ball and the game he has started playing. You however did not know, Helion always won these types of games.  

“Did he threaten you to come?” Lucien said playfully “And here I thought you had come to keep me company.” A faux pout appeared on his face. Helion laughed at his sons words.  

“You truly are your fathers son.” You jabbed Lucien on the shoulder. 

“You wound me.” 

Act 2: Denial   

The door to Helion's office opened, you expected to see Helion himself however the male that had opened the door was none other than Lucien himself. An easy, inviting smile directed at you as he stepped aside to allow you entrance. This was one of the many reasons that had made you fall for him. The kindness he showed and the easy air of gentleness around him. You had seen him angry and vicious before, but that was not him, not entirely at least. He was that when the situation called for it. You couldn’t help but curse him in your head, for making you fall for him in the first place and for always managing to make you love him more each interaction you had.  

You simply nodded your head in gratitude as you stepped inside the spacious office. Helion sat as his desk, his hands propped up on the table holding his head in place as he stared right at you or rather right through you. Yes, the game is on, and he was excited, his grin showing as much.  

“Lucien if you would please grant us some privacy?” His eyes slid to his son with a gentle smile. Lucien nodded to his father, his eyes sliding to you. You had to resist the urge to tighten your mouth in fear of blurting your years long attraction escaping from you. Bowing your head to the future lord of day and immediately facing Helion with grace.  

Once you were left alone, the space was silent, you could not hear a single thing, not even the singing birds outside that usually sung so loud. You were waiting for him to make the first move, first sound. And you would not fail in that, in that you were certain. As a war general, you were once a measly foot soldier and nothing more, you had learned to stand still for long hours and stay quiet. One simple rule engrained in you, speak only when spoken to. You were patient and he knew that, but he just wanted to play, make you doubt and question every move you had made that had led to this moment.  

“If I ask you a question, will you answer me truthfully?” He finally spoke, leaning back in his chair hands clasped together.  

“As truthfully as you wish.” Was your trained response to the loaded question. 

“You like him, don’t you?”  

“I am unsure of who you are talking about.”  

“My son, Lucien.”  

“Of course, he is the heir and a dear friend.” 

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”  

Another tight smile was directed at Helion, considering what your next words should be. You always sucked at chess. Planning strategies for war was second nature, but this, this was new and quite frankly scary.  

“I am not sure what you mean high lord.” Your voice emotionless.  

Helion merely chuckled at your denial and deflection before easily moving onto more important discussions.  

The easy transition into other conversations, unnerved you. What exactly was he planning? And how will you survive the situation you found yourself in. Mother help you.   

Act 3: Avoidance  

It wasn’t unusual to see Lucien prancing around, still the amount of time you had seen him around these past few days was rather unusual. You knew his schedule, what he does, when he does it, you knew all his usual movements, this was unusual. It made avoiding bumping into him that much harder than before.  

“Ah, if it isn’t my dearest friend!” You sighed at Lucien who approached you as you were overlooking your soldiers training regime.  

“Ah, if it isn’t the prince. Come to annoy me?” Lucien grabbed his chest, right over his heart grimacing at your words. It made you laugh lightly at his usual theatrics.  

“Sunflower you really should be careful with your harsh words.”  

“Do you not have better things to do Lucien?” He only laughed, patting your shoulder before leaving you to your work.  

With a sigh you made your way to one of the soldiers who couldn’t for the life of you properly wield a sword. You had tried everything to teach the male how to hold it. 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to hold it like that?!” Your voice rose slightly as you approached him looking as stern as ever. The soldier murmured a light ‘sorry’ before trying to correct his hold. You held back another sigh at his failing corrections before interfering and showing the male how to do it again. This was your element as annoying as it sometimes got, this was what you were good at.  

What you didn’t know was that Lucien didn’t stray far from you, he was watching your every move, silently admiring you with the gentlest of smiles. He was always surprised by your utter dominance over the soldiers, and how they respected you despite your harsh words and strictness.  

Each day as you awoke, you felt tired, tired of constantly planning how you would avoid the handsome heir. He was proving to be quite the annoyance using any chance he could get to come and tease you in front of everyone. 

In the evenings as you laid in bed you couldn’t help but think back on the interactions you had with the male, cringing, over how many times he had managed to make you blush. Thinking back on it, he always was quite the charmer, flamboyant and a true social butterfly and you always stood on the sidelines hoping to avoid any kind of attention. A stark difference between you. 

A sombre thought for you, but whenever it came up inside you, you just shoved it deeper down. He had a talent of making you come out of your shell, but only around him. No one else had managed it. The stupid crush on your friend should and would go away if you avoid thinking about it, right?  

On the other hand, after all these years, centuries, the day where you woke up without having this crush on Lucien never came. You still held on to that hope that soon, some day you will wake up and not long for the male as much as you did. Every other feeling you could ignore, but the deep longing inside you ate at you. Day by day, night by night it became harder to control that longing. A truly cursed feeling.  

You desperately needed a break from work, from seeing him everywhere. As the weeks moved, his new schedule never changed, it stayed the same. He was everywhere, always bumping into you, talking to you. Sure, speaking to him was fun, but by the Mother was it exhausting to keep all your feelings to yourself. It’s as if Lucien knew or at least suspected something, breaking down the walls you had built around yourself.  

His flirtations became more and more frequent, he never did it as much as he does it now. It’s like he enjoyed seeing you so affected by his words and light touches. That is another point, he was always touchy yes but never like this, his touches became a regular thing. Whenever the two of you bumped into each other, he would either lay his hand on your head, shoulder or he would simply brush against your palm as he walked away.  

You were quite tired of his shenanigans because it was starting to mess with your head.     

Act 4: Forced Proximity 

You were made aware of the summons from your high lord, it made you wonder why so soon. It was not at all unusual to be called for often, but it was never like this time. Something important must have come up for him to request your presence this quickly. It put you on high alert, a normal response for a war general.  

However, Helion seemed a bit too relaxed for anything serious to be going on. It eased your nerves a little, but not fully as the game was still on. An unnerving reminder of the predicament you had found yourself in. You spent many days questioning on how he knew, how had he found out? Were you that obvious? The answers never came, he never gave them out.  

“I need you to escort Lucien to the human lands. He has some business with the humans.” Helion said evenly reading the paper on his desk, never once looking up at her.  

“What kind of business?” You could not help yourself asking the question. Soon realizing that move was a mistake. The grin he had given you as he finally looked up from his paper told you as much. He arched an eyebrow, urging you to continue.  

“I need to be prepared.” Was the explanation that you gave your high lord.  

“As it is, I don’t actually know what kind of business he has. So, you will have to ask him that yourself.” He stood up from his chair, head tilted to the right with an easy charming smile. You could not resist gritting your teeth.  

“When?”  

“Tomorrow morning you shall depart from Day. All I know is that he plans to stop in Spring first before continuing to the human lands.”  

You simply nodded your head once.  

“Keep him safe, will you?” 

“I will.”  

You had everything ready for the travel to the human lands with Lucien. Nervous was the only thing that you felt as you awoke. Not because of the locations you will be going to, rather because you’d be travelling with him. The man that had made you fall for him so seamlessly, you wondered if you would be able to keep it professional. You really had no other choice than to keep it that way.  

“Good morning.” You bowed your head as you reached Lucien. He was dressed in his travelling attire that he owned from his time in Night court. His red hair was cleanly braided behind him. Just as handsome as ever, if not more.  

“Morning.” He smiled gently at you.  

“So, what is this important business of yours?” 

“That is for me to know and you to find out.” You resisted the twitch in your eye at his teasing words.  

“Can you be serious for a moment?” He didn’t offer a response but rather his hand for you to take, so he could winnow you two to Spring.  

You took his hand, trying your hardest to not clasp it together like you wished to do. Lucien gently held your hand, like it was made of glass. The hands that killed others without remorse or mercy, being held so gently made you want to grimace and let go. But you pushed the need to pull your hand away.  

“Hmm, I don’t particularly feel like being serious right now.” Lucien answered your earlier question, winking at you before winnowing to Spring.  

You quickly dropped his hand when you had arrived in Spring. Luckily, Lucien just started walking towards Tamlins’ mansion. You quickly followed him, hoping everything would pass by quickly and without a hitch. Tamlin was already awaiting your arrival at the entrance with a wide smile directed at his best friend.  

The following morning, Tamlin borrowed two of his horses, bidding you safe travels to the human lands. Daylight was soon disappearing as you travelled, urging the two of you to find shelter and a place to rest for the night. Lucien had tried to start conversations with you during your travel, you however gave short answers. Not because you did not want to talk, but because you were quite annoyed by his excessive teasing. 

Somehow it was becoming harder and harder to be around him without the urge to tell him the truth. Truth about how much you cared for him, how you long for him and how you wish he too would see you in the same light that you see him in. How you wished he would stop with the teasing and be serious for once. But the utter fear of rejection kept you from talking, because why would he ever see you that way? You were so different from each other. You were nothing like all the other females that surrounded him.  

You could not go through that, not yet at least.  

The two of you found a secluded place by a creek to rest for the night and wash up. You went to wash your hands and face whilst Lucien set the fire for a bit of warmth in the now chilly weather. Finding food was not necessary as Tamlin had given you enough food to last for the travel to the human lands.  

“Can I ask you something?” Lucien broke the silence once he finished lighting the fire.  

“Sure.” 

“Have I done something to upset you?” His question surprised you so much that you tensed up and stopped moving.  

“No, what makes you think that?” After a few moments to gather yourself, you answered.  

“I don’t know, you seem quieter.”  

“I just have a lot in my mind.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lucien hummed; his question genuine.  

“No, no it’s alright.” The irony of it all was that it was him that has been on your mind so much.  

“Is my father overworking you?” His tone was playful, you knew he was probably smirking.  

“When is he not?” You looked at him over your shoulder, a small smile playing across your face. That had made him smile wider, chuckling lightly.   

Shaking the water off your hands you slowly stood up, walking towards the warmth of the campfire that Lucien had lighted. You sat by it, opposite of Lucien as you grabbed your pack to pull out two neatly wrapped sandwiches. Thank the mother for Tamlin graciously offering the both of you some food for your travels. Handing one to Lucien across the fire, you unwrapped yours taking a hearty bite out of it.  

After travelling for another day, you had finally made it to the human lands and to the manor where Jurian awaited you. Lucien told you would stay with them for only a day before returning home. His words made you realise that this was not ‘important business’ as Helion had alluded to. The trip was simply to greet his friends and spend some time with them. You had been played by both Helion and Lucien. The two of them will pay for this one day.  

Pricks.  

Act 5: Confessions 

When you finally arrived back home, you reported to Helion with Lucien that you were back before going straight home to have a nice long relaxing shower. The trip in itself was fun, a welcome reprieve from your repetitive tasks. However, the male you were travelling with had somehow managed to make you fall for him even more.  

You sighed as you let the warm water cascade over your body, rubbing your face. As soon as you were done with your shower you dressed in some comfortable breaches and shirt, letting your hair airdry as you plucked a random book from your shelf, plopping down on your armchair. Luciens birthday was soon approaching and Helion has already begun preparing a party for his only son. As much as you hated social gatherings you decided to still attend the festivities if only to hand him a gift and a happy birthday wish. You weren’t sure if you could handle seeing him being fawned over by pretty ladies, ladies that were not you.  

A groan escaped you as you could not focus on your book at all. Your thoughts were hyper fixated on the handsome male. How you wished everything would be less complicated or maybe you were the only one complicating everything around you. You realised that you would have to decide soon, to save your sanity. Confess to him or forever hold your peace?  

The day of Luciens birthday party came and you were a nervous wreck to say the least, your thoughts flickering between confessing or not. Maybe today was not a good day to do so, could you even handle the possible rejection. To make matters worse Helion has instructed you to dress formally for once and not be in your usual attire which consisted of brown breaches and a simple white shirt. Although you did not have to buy a dress for the occasion as Helion so kindly bought one for you.  

It was a stunning dress, revealing a lot of skin. Your skin that is marred by different scars. It just showcased you were not really a lady, but a warrior. The doubts came back tenfold as you stood in front of your mirror all dressed for the party. The golden cuffs around your biceps shone brightly, not bright enough to shoo the doubts away.  

The ballroom was full of people as you stepped inside, your eyes however quickly found Lucien. As you predicted he was surrounded by many ladies. One of them seemed particularly touchy, feeling up his arm. It awoke an ugly feeling inside you, you wanted to break her arm, maybe even rip it off her torso. This was a mistake.  

“Careful, you might burn the place down with the way you are glaring.” a bored voice that belonged to none other than Eris Vanserra, high lord of Autumn and the brother of Lucien. A cocky fae if you have ever met one. Your eyes met his, you soon noticed he was smirking at you.  

“I am not glaring.” your response only made him chuckle as he leaned in closer to whisper in your ear.  

“You are making your feelings obvious. Even a fool would realise it.” He moved away from your frozen body before lifting his glass and walking away.  

You could not resist clicking your tongue in annoyance. Eris had a talent at getting under peoples skins, a true fox. Even if you urged yourself to not fall for his words you began questioning yourself. Were you really being that obvious?  

As you looked up at Lucien, you found he was already looking at you a playful smirk on his handsome face. You started approaching him and he too politely bid his goodbyes with the ladies surrounding him.

“Happy birthday prince.” You handed him the gift you had prepared for him. It was not much, just a simple book about pegasuses. He had once expressed interest in learning more about the Day creatures. You had read this book before you gifted it to him, so you could leave simple notes inside and silly drawings in hopes of making him laugh while he read it.  

“Why thank you dear.” Lucien took the gift with a wide smile, tucking it under his arm.  

“Not even going to open your gift?” You tilted your head to the right, teasing him as he had already opened all the other gifts. 

“Would you like me to open it?” Lucien couldn’t help himself to tease you once again. You only rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms across your chest  

“I’m getting a drink.” You turned, walking towards the makeshift bar with a sigh. Maybe a drink will help take the edge off and help you survive this night without utterly embarrassing yourself in front of everyone here.  

Lucien had followed you to the bar a bit perplexed by your sudden coldness towards him. Sure, you rolled your eyes at him plenty of times, but it was all in good fun. He could see that this time around it was different. You were growing tired of keeping this secret crush on your friend and his teasing did nothing to help you keep it. Once you got your drink you turned to Lucien looking him in the eyes.  

“We need to talk.” Was all you said before walking towards the secluded balcony that overlooks the garden behind the palace. You knew he followed you as you felt his body heat on your back. Lucien gently laid a hand on your upper back, stepping to the side.  “Everything okay?” For once his voice was devoid of his usual playfulness. He was utterly serious.   “I think...” You paused taking a deep breath before you continued. “I think I love you.”  

Luciens hand that was once on your upper back feel besides him in shock, you could feel his eyes staring at you as he stayed quiet. That was all the answer you needed; you scoffed humourlessly downing your drink.  

You wanted to walk away from him and as you made a move to turn around and leave, he took a hold of you, pulling you into his chest. One hand was across your back while the other find its place on your head, cradling it close to his heart. You could hear his heart beating just as frantically as yours was.  

“And here I was thinking I annoyed you too much to be around me.” He finally spoke, the playful tone back. You nearly groaned but held back as he pulled away slightly, the hand that was on your head was now under your chin urging you to look up into his eyes. “I think I love you too.” He smiled brightly at you.  

Hidden act: Sixth sense 

“How’d you know?” Eris questions Helion as they look over the ballroom to the balcony to see the two finally share a kiss.  “Oh, I didn’t know for sure, just had a slight hunch.”  “She’s not going to like that once she finds out.”  “Well then it’s best if she never does, isn’t it?” Helion said quietly a victorious smile on his handsome face.  

All dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

[stevenuniversetanzanite]

The Angel Among Us (Cordelia X reader) Part 3

Warning I may go back and edit this later if i need to but for now I am content with it. 

~~~ and Italic is flashback/dream as per usual for me

^These parts were added after edit because I couldn’t decide it they were going in these or for the next.

This is technically a prequel to Fallen Angel (Work in progress), however it can be read as a stand alone series.

Summary:

If your reading as a stand alone: A witch heads back to Miss Robichaux’s 20 years after she left in hopes of being a teacher there. The only problem is she hasn’t aged a day.

If your from Fallen Angel: The event’s leading up to Y/N joining Michael and the Cooperative.

Warnings: N/A

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4(will be added when done)

Heartbreak, betrayal, lust, Lost. Happiness, unity, fulfilment. Kindness generosity. This is what it’s like to be human. There is no one way to live but through your life, you experience a lot, both positive and negative.

~~~

Cordelia informed you that the council would have to go back to Hawthorne, and you’d have to look after the school in their absence. You nodded, not questioning it. She promised she’d fill you in if anything happened that should concern her. You spent the quiet hours sitting in the lounge room reading about magical creatures as you normally did. When you stumbled across a passage you had seen a thousand times and never thought anything of it.

 You laid the book down in front of you, contemplating the contents. 

 That mark that you saw on Cordelia. The scabbed-up wound that looked like it was rotting and bruised. It looked like one that occurs when an earthly creature mingled with a heavenly one for too long. That couldn’t be right, when would she have interacted with an otherworldly creature?

 If you could figure out who or what caused it, you might be able to reverse the damage. It was worth a shot. You were in the dark, but with enough observation you could break the code, you thought. You might have to break some of your morals, but if it was for a good cause your actions could be justified. Who’s to judge? With a collection of books, you trampled up to your bedroom going into complete lock down to focus on the task at hand.

 There was a knock at the door interrupting your study. Without turning around, you opened the door, “Yes, who is it?”

 “Mallory.”

 “Mal, did anything happen?”

 “It’s dinner in five minutes.” It wasn’t her job to retrieve people, however she was helping you look after the girls and you guessed you. Cordelia probably put her up to making sure you did not get too carried away with your work. “The others should be back early tomorrow.”

 “Yes, they should,” You turned your attention back to your work and again the book in front of you. “I’ll see you downstairs.” Mallory nodded then left, already knowing you weren’t going to head down. 

 You were still at your makeshift set up on the floor in your and Cordelia’s room. Books scattered about on the floor with a pile of untouched ones stacked up high. To the side was an untouched plate of dinner that one of the girls on dinner duty brought up for you. You grabbed a book from the pile, settling it down and letting the book flip to the page you needed as you heard the bedroom door squeak open.

 Cordelia snuck into the room. Settling her belongings down quietly. 

 “I swear If I’m not here to tell you to go to bed, do you ever sleep?” You did not respond. She noticed the plate full of food, “and you didn’t go down to dinner either?” Again, no response. The woman snuck up behind you and peered over your shoulders. You stiffened, faced darting the direction of your girlfriend as all the books snapped closed. 

“You’re back!” You jumped up and hugged her. 

 “You look like you’ve been busy.”

 “Yeah,” You said. “Give me five minutes and I'll have this mess cleaned up and I’ll be ready for bed.

 “Oh no, where going downstairs and making sure you have a proper meal”

 “I had dinner,” Cordelia points at the dinner plate laying on the ground. Left untouched since being placed there. “When did that get there? I swear my work was important.”

 “More important than food?”

 “Yes-okay no. I was having a break though?”

 “Not an excuse”

 “Fine, I’ll meet you downstairs.”

 The coven had no idea what they were up against. Cordelia sent Madison to investigate the supposed ‘Alpha’ origins linking back to a large house in Los Angeles. The boy, Michael Langdon, brought back Misty from the hell, if that wasn’t a testament to his demonic power, what was? Misty claimed to get bad vibes from the male and that her instincts have been write since she was a young child. From the findings that Madison (and Behold who choose to go with her), Cordelia only had one rational idea for her next step, make a deal with the spirit world.

 Cordelia made a deal with Dinah Stevens the current reigning Voodoo Queen for her to Papa Legba. She wanted him to open the gates of the underworld for long enough for her to lure him into going inside.

 However, since this is such a risky task, Papa Legba told her that the price for this would be all the souls of her witches from the coven. The weight of what he asked for sunk in. Cordelia hadn’t been away of what her mother did, offering a student the spirit. Now it could cost her, her whole school. All those young girls unaware of the decision that was being made.

 As Cordelia went to refuse the offer, the man spoke again.  He shifted in his chair, getting a whiff of the air. “Hmmm, you have a powerful one on the grounds. Not like the others.” Cordelia had no idea who he was talking about. Mallory? She was the only one that stood out from the rest. “Not a witch.”

 “All my students are witches; I wouldn’t have anyone here if they weren’t.” Besides the help, of course but nowadays they got the students to do it. It kept them responsible for themselves.  

 What the spirit said brought the Voodoo queen concern. “I’ll make one more offer. The angel for the gate being open. You have no use for down here and she’ll be back where she belongs.”

 “Angel? We don’t have a- No. You can’t have my girls. If you want a soul take mine.”

 “You are not good enough”

 “I’m the most powerful witch on earth.”

 Papa Legba laughed. “I have made my offers, turn them down and you will not get another.”

 She turned them down. She didn’t want to get rid of any of her girls, not a single one. She wasn’t aware of who the spirit spoke of, but if they were a part of this coven that she protected, she wasn’t going to offer them up.

 “Dinah, what do I have to do? There must be something else I can offer something else I can do?”

 “It doesn’t work like that.” Dinah said. “Papa made you an offer-two- he never makes more than one- and you refused him. That’s it. You blew it.”

 “No no no”

 “Now not only do all your girls die but now six billion other people.” Dinah had all her belongings packed and was about to head out. For all their safety, they better hope the girl that Papa Legba thought was powerful enough to change his offer was good enough to save them all. 

The Supreme remained in her office questioning if she had made a mistake. Her duty was to protect her coven and by offering her students she had failed. By refusing the offer she had doomed them and the rest of the Earth. With no clue of the Langdon’s next moves, she was at a complete loss. Choosing to move on from her decision she made, she decided to search for a new way to save them all. Cordelia walked down the stairs when she almost collapsed on the final step. Zoe who was passing helped her gain her stability. She asked her friend to help her back to her room, not wanting any of the girls to see her weak like this. As Zoe helped her upstairs, Cordelia told Zoe that she was in no state to fight Michael. Zoe shared that she believed the woman was fading because of Mallory not Michael. She’d seen the girl do something she’d never seen done by a witch. She mentioned that she was going to go to you about it when Cordelia dismissed the idea.

 “Y/N doesn’t need to know. She’s your student, not Y/N’s. Let her worry about her own students.”

 Zoe was confused as to why she did not want you to know but said nothing. All the teachers loved celebrating students' achievements no matter how small and besides that, this would be something you would be genuinely curious about. A witch with abnormal powers, you would love to learn about that. She didn’t question her supreme, there was probably more going on in the background that she was unaware of. You were work orientated, maybe Cordelia was trying to sway you from that and you knowing would impact that in some way. Who knows, the two were private about their lives, you more than her.

 “Should I tell her about Coco’s new power or wait until Coco tells Y/N herself?”

 “Coco will tell the first time she sees her. Speaking of which, where’s Y/N?”

 “Your bedroom, I’d presume, she spends most of her time there when she has no classes,” Zoe said. “We need to get her an office; the floor can’t be good for her.”

 “I offered to get her a desk, but she refused.” Cordelia’s walking showed down the closer they got to her room. “She can have my office after- I doubt Mallory or whoever the next Supreme is will be ready to take over the school, that's if they even want to.”

 “Will Y/N be? She's nice to the students and knows the curriculum and has spent the most time at the school since she arrived but she’s always preoccupied on something else.”

 “She doesn’t need to be the face of the coven just the inner workings. I’ll leave her a list, so she isn’t left in the dark.”

 If Cordelia trusted you to do the job, that was sufficient for her. It went without saying, the council and the school’s students would be there for you as you have been for them in this trying time. You would all get through it together as she wants. For now, there’s no point in worrying.

 “I can make it the rest,” Cordelia said. If you were in there, she didn’t want to concern you. She could simply say she was tired or thought that you’d appreciate some cuddles.  Anything to hide the truth from you.  

 Cordelia woke up from her slumber with an arm of another draped atop of her. She smiled to herself at the thought of you seeing her asleep and choosing to join her. You had cuddled up to her side with one hand loosely laying on her. She brushed the hair of your face. The action causing you to snuggle closer to her body. 

 Sadly, she knew she would have to leave your sleeping form. She needed to catch up with the council about their finds. Myrtle had recreated one of her friends Bubbles McGee to help figure out the warlocks’ plan. Two of their own changed who they sided with, one vanishing from the face of the earth, the other overhearing her discussion with Madison about going to the house where Michael was born and joined not trusting the boy the others believed was the next ruler. 

 She pulled away from her girl, making sure not have woken her in the process before tiding herself up and heading downstairs. She’d ordered a special dinner for Mallory and the group to celebrate because it might be the last time, they were all together. 

 The group at dinner was informed by the two eldest witches of the warlocks that they had killed their brother as well as their plan to do the same to them. Mallory was upset because, in order for her to become Supreme, she had to take power away from Cordelia. Cordelia told her that she isn't dead yet and to enjoy the dinner. Mallory commented on your absent, she assumed as you were part of the staff and their group, you’d be joining them. If she was to rise and be the next supreme, you’d be her best lead on how to look after the witches after Cordelia’s gone.

 Cordelia didn’t comment immediately allowing the others to comment in on it. The others knew you weren’t in the loop as for the reasons why they weren’t sure. “Shouldn’t we tell Y/N?” It didn’t make sense as to why you were in the dark, you were one of them. You weren’t in the council, but you are one of the main carers for the students, if there was a threat, you should know so you can prepare for the worst-case scenario. “We can’t be completely irresponsible; we still have girls to protect. Someone needs to look after the students while we stop Michael.” The comments kept going.  “It might be a good idea to at least keep her in the loop, she’s a wiz with magic after all. Mightn’t see get sceptical if you don’t talk to her, she is your girlfriend after all.”

 “I’ll inform her about the warlocks-” Cordelia said. 

 “What about the rise of the next supreme? Does she know about you Michael or you fading yet?” Zoe asked.

 “Is that why she isn’t with us tonight? Haven’t you told her yet?” Mallory asked. 

 “She only just got me, I don’t want to tell her- She’s had a long day, that’s why she isn’t here.” She opted to change her tale mid-way through. She wasn’t in the mood to express her emotion fuelled reasoning. They were going to have to respect what she told her. It wasn’t their story to tell. It was hers and the time wasn’t right.  “We should go and save our fallen brother and prove that Mallory is my successor.”

 They go to the gas station where John Henry was killed. Cordelia asked Mallory to use her powers to bring John Henry back to them. She used her powers and passed the final test. They brought the man back to the school so they could question him on what happened in safety. 

 You were awake by the time the group came home. You had been up for an hour speaking to the warlock Behold Chablis who had been the coven the last few days. You’d taken the time to make sure he was comfortable while the others were out. He accidentally slipped out about the murder of his brother witch John. You acted oblivious to it, telling him you were sorry for the loss. He figured it out quickly that though you were a staff member you weren’t aware of the outer workings outside these walls.  It made him question his supreme. 

 The two heard the front door open and they both went to check on it. You noticed a group come back with a warlock. You looked at Behold as if to ask if that's his brother warlock, he gave you a nod of recognition. 

 “Everything alright?” You asked when you caught sight of Cordelia. She gave you a quick nod before asking you kindly to make some tea and bring it up to her office. Mallory offered to help you which you appreciated.  

 “I’m so happy you guys found him. I just heard he died. I can’t believe something like that happened,” You said getting a pot ready to make the tea. You preferred doing it the old way, electric kettles are good if you are making one but for multiple, brewing it in a pot was better. 

 “Coco, was the one that found him.”

 “Seriously? Coco, that’s awesome. Great job, new you had it in you.” You cheered; the girl looked embarrassed but flattered. “I feel like that calls for a celebration.”

 “I didn’t do much. Mallory was the one who brought her back.”

 Mallory’s eyes darted to Coco. It took a second for her to realise what she said was wrong. If you knew that she could reset how long would it take you to figure out the rest. Neither wanted to be responsible for you finding out. You eye the two of them. “Hell yeah Mal. Now were definitely celebrating. You two drink wine?” They both did. You informed them there should be the replacement bottle of wine you bought after Madison drank Cordelia’s. You’d bought a couple so you could save it for a celebration. 

 “There’s a half-finished bottle, should we have that first?”

 “Yeah. Madi must have gotten into the wine again.” The bottle was leftovers from the dinner they had earlier that night. Neither decided to mention that. “You guys pour the wine while I deliver this tea to the peeps upstairs.”

 You carried the tray to her office placing it on the coffee table Cordelia had set up for less formal meetings. You minded your own business as you poured a couple cups for the guests. 

 John started a coughing fit, when he settled you handed him a cup. He thanked you, locking eyes with you briefly. The night he died flashed into her head. You averted your gaze. You mumbled about getting the tea later as headed towards your escape. Cordelia thanked you as you left. 

 You ran your hand down your face, gathering yourself before joining the girls downstairs.

 The three of you finished the half bottle and moved onto another, by this time you’d had your fair share of alcohol. The other teachers and Madison had joined when they saw alcohol was involved. Zoe only had one glass and only stuck around to make sure you all didn’t wake up the sleeping students with your loud antics. 

 The topics shifted from television shows they’d seen to celebrity crushes. The girls were arguing over who was the hottest out one. Somehow, Madison started telling stories of her time in the industry and then it ended with her telling you how she ended up being sent to this school in the first place. That started everyone on their own personal journey on how they found their way to the place they all sat drinking in today. Some you already knew, but others like Mallory’s you hadn’t. “You know what I love about your generation of witches,” You caught all their attention. They expected you to tell them your story about how you found your place at the school. “You guys aren’t taught you get all your powers by your 40’s. Like what dumb ass came up with that. You never stop learning new skills, so why wouldn’t it be the same for magic? Take Delia for example- supreme at -what -like 42? Better than 18 like her mother.”

 “Anyone is better than Fiona?” Zoe joked. Mallory and Coco didn’t know much about the woman you spoke of but a tale or two had been shared about her and her time tormenting Queenie, Zoe, Madison and Cordelia.

 “Oh yeah, you guys met her, didn’t you? Poor souls.” You finished off your latest glass. “I’ve always been terrible at magic, but it’s history- no witch here could beat me, and I can bet on that. I think the misconception was to belittle the weaker ones, keep them in place like they did with the men.”

 “You’re talking like you aren’t one of use” They all look at coco like she was supposed to be in the know. “I don’t understand-”

 “She’s 45.”

 “You’re-” She gave you and full inspection. She was in disbelief by the information she’d heard. You nodded and quickly filled Coco on everything she had missed out on. “That explains a few things.”

 “Explains what?”

 “Nothing.” 

 You glared at her, she averted you gaze. You pushed it off deciding to take a sip of your drink instead. You knew what she was on about. The girls in the school were nice but they did talk about you. You shut in nature only helped to create more mystery surrounding you.

 Queenie steered the conversation away from the current topic to something more light-hearted. The attitude picked up a bit by everyone but you. 

 Cordelia and Myrtle came downstairs from their meeting to find the girls had been drinking. Thankfully however the one they needed hadn't drunk much. 

 She scolded the lot of you drinking on a school night, especially the three staff members. She asked whose ideas it was suspecting it to be the former movie star. When all fingers pointed to you, she was taken aback. You barely acknowledged her presence, deciding to forget about your glass instead taking a swig from the bottle. 

 She informed the group that the council had to deal with the warlocks and since the main supervisor of the school had gotten 'wasted', council member Zoe would have to stay behind and look after the school. Cordelia informed Coco that she would be requiring Coco's help tomorrow so the group would have to try and sober up before then. She also warned them to dress in black. There was going to be a witch burning.

  “You're in trouble now,” Queenie teased.

 "Oh well." You finished off the bottle before scrambled up and fumbling through your pockets for your packet of cigarettes. You shoved a stick in your mouth. It was lit the instant it met your lips. Bet Delia didn't know you could do that. Book nerd has learnt a thing or two. "I'm going to smoke. Don't stay up too late."

~~~

To truly understand something you must see it up close, to experience something (by either first hand or by a secondary source) and to formulate your own ideas on it.

“To tell you the truth, this may not be the best idea.” A cigarette in hand, you flicked off the ash into a tray nearby. You never said it was going to be the best idea. “You’ve gone in two deep. Someone’s going to get hurt-” You rose your hand cutting them off by their fear of you alone. 

“I’d call you a friend,”

“Thank you?”

“I’d hate to see you die too.” You brought your cigarette up to your lips, inhaling the deathly sweet smoke that has and will kill many. “But you treat me as a god and not an equal. I am no different than you. You see, I have to do this. You aren’t the first to confuse me for something better and if I am to truly understand, I must live in your shoes. Submit myself entirely to science.”

“But this can’t be done the way you plan without flaw.”

“So, let there be flaws.” Your friend, the man you’d been with since he was a young man, who dedicated his whole life to you was in disbelief. You were driving yourself into insanity and in turn bring him down with you, for he worshipped you, claiming he had found god reincarnated. But the man was wrong, you were no god. 

“And when it’s all done, what of it then?”

“That won’t happen until the end times.”

[imajoonations]

Mechanism

Masterlist

Namjoon x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Word Count: 2917

Warnings: None

The unseen consequences of murdering another to absorb their magic wasn't revealed until the next generation was born. Children only possessed bloodline magic, causing some abilities to vanish from the world entirely.

This led to another unfortunate discovery, killing one's own parents would allow us to consume what they themselves had stolen.

When I was 7 years old, my father demanded I kill my mother. Of course I refused, but this only prompted her to attack me. I had never been in a fight before and I definitely was no match for my mother. While she unleashed powerful attacks, her goal was never to hit me.

Magic takes life force which can replenish over time. However, if too much magic is used at once, it can have a devastating effect on the caster.

I didn't attack my mother, the toll the spells took on her body were what killed her. That is how my powers were inherited.

That day, I decided to only use my bloodline magic, creation, and aligned with those who did the same. The only way to avoid fighting is to hide. That's how Eva and I came to be.

I created a manor from a mountain. It took less effort to twist my surroundings into something new than to materialize it from thin air. To outsiders, Eva has disguised it to appear as if it's still just a mountain. This allowed us to survive, but not to live. That's why I created a new world, one without magic. I needed something to focus my energy on in order to stay sane. However, I can't perfect this world and it's slowly driving me mad.

"Desi~" Eva said. Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm?"

She wrapped her arms around me with her head rested on my shoulders. "You've been locked in this study for days, staring at that world of yours. Can't you focus on me for a bit, love?"

I wrapped my hand around one of her arms, as I pulled her into my lap. I gestured to the billions of tiny cogs inside a glass orb, "What do you see?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion as she looked into my eyes, her beauty never ceases to amaze me. I've looked at her face every day for thousands of years, but I still don't think I've taken in all her features yet. She leaned forward watching for a bit. "Your favorite creation working as intended. Self sustaining.", Eva said as she glanced back at me.

I let out a sigh and tangled my arms around her slim waist. "It's missing something, don't you think?"

She chuckled and turned her body so she could wrap her arms around my neck. "What do you see when you look at it Desi?"

I sucked in my cheeks as I thought of an answer. "Failure," I pressed my forehead into the crook of her neck, her Auburn hair tickled my cheek. "Something that falls short of perfection.", I said.

She pressed her lips to my temple and whispered, "Nothing is perfect dear."

My grip tightened around her waist and I tilted my head as her smile pressed her gentle, green eyes into crescents. "You are Eva.", I mumbled into her skin.

Her smile widened and those green orbs disappeared behind her eyelids. "You flatter me, but my beauty is just an illusion, love. Everyone sees what they want to see when they look at me.”, Eva said.

I laughed and her face twisted in annoyance, demanding an explanation from me. "I sometimes forget that you are a mirror of one's desires."

Her face softened with my words as she pushed my bangs away from my face. "Well what do you desire in this world of yours?"

"I want those in it to break my expectations. However, they never seem to be capable of that no matter how I change the design."

My eyes followed her as she got up from my lap to pace around the dimly lit room. I could almost see her brain working it's hardest to find my answer. Even if it's not an easy task, she had always tried to ease my burdens.

She turned around and ran to me and grabbed my hands, "I know!" She grinned from ear to ear as her excitement grew.

"Know what?" She scowled at me like I should already know what she was thinking. "I can't read your mind.", I said.

She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath, "Have you ever been to this world? I honestly don't know how you expect something to be perfect when you've distanced yourself from it." Bringing her gaze to be level with mine, "Do you trust me?"

I looked at her bewildered, "Of course."

She smirked as her eyes began to glow, "Good," I gazed into them and felt my surroundings fade as the world I created materialized around me, "If you need me, talk into anything with a reflection. I'll be waiting."

I chuckled as I looked into the window of a nearby store, "At least she made sure to hide my true appearance and with quite a handsome face too."

I turned to face the crowd of people on their morning commute and let out a sigh at my creations. It's as if they are a herd of mindless sheep, so disappointing. There has to be at least one person here that is extraordinary and I will wander as a silent observer until I find you.

Meanwhile...

"Alright I'm heading out!!", I yelled to no one. Sounds a bit stupid, but it makes my home feel less empty. I've only lived in Seoul for about two months now and honestly it's not living up to the hype I had built in my own head before coming. Sure. South Korea was great and living in another country has been my dream since I was little. It's just very humbling to realize I don't matter at all.

It hadn't been long enough since the big move for me to make any close friends, just a few coworkers and classmates I talked to in passing. I have people who loved and cared about me, but they were on the other side of the world. Add that to time zones differences and life got pretty lonely. Well there is one person I enjoy, but we only met shortly after I moved here. "Maybe I should get a cat..."

As I started my walk to school, it was as normal as always. The kind, old man greeted me as I passed by his store. He bowed to everyone though, so it's not like he is truly saw me. He just hoped I would divert my course and buy something, I guess. A few people tried to hand me flyers or told me about some cool new item that I couldn't live without. I didn't even own a proper bed frame yet.

I've been way too busy just trying to keep my grades up to buy one. It's not that I am stupid, just that all my classes proved to be a major pain when everything is in Korean. Guess I didn't realize real life didn't come with subtitles.

"Excuse me miss?"

I looked behind me to see a guy. Fairly average looking. 5'10. Dark hair. Brown eyes. Looked like everyone else you'd imagine seeing here. "Yes?"

The man rubbed the back of his neck while smiling sheepishly at me, "You wouldn't happen to have any money, so I can catch the bus would you?"

Seriously...?

"It seems I forgot my wallet at home by mistake."

I tried to hold back my sigh since his bunny teeth and sparkly eyes were so endearing. "Uhm...let me look in my wallet."

I shuffled through the random crap I had in my bag, searching for coins. There might be some lost in the bottom...maybe? Kind of embarrassing to admit, but I definitely didn't have any money in my wallet. Just my I.D. and a gift card for a pizza joint back home that probably had $1 on it...at most.

After I dug around in the warzone that is the bottom of my bag and managed to stick my fingers in every gross thing there is, I found some change. "Is this enough? I'm not sure how much it costs."

The guy inspected my change as if it is some lost treasure, "Yes. Thanks so much."

I watched as the guy sprinted off towards the bus, barely having gotten on it in time. I guess he didn't realize there will be another bus in 5 minutes and that he didn't need to run around like a chicken with his head cut off.

I continued on my path to school, I shoved my earbuds in hopes to drown out the overwhelming sounds of the city. It's a short walk to school. I was very fortunate to have found an apartment so close, but I would take the long way if it meant I got to avoid the crowded morning commute. Unfortunately for me, there is no way that was less crowded. I didn't hate people, just the lack of space they gave me. I'm not really sure why, but I panic when I feel surrounded by so many people. Nothing ever happened to me and I'm not shy, just claustrophobic I guess.

I turned the corner to see my school in the distance. I sighed in annoyance as I got ready to brace myself for the unrelenting amount of stress as I tried to keep up with my professor’s lectures. An arm wrapped around my shoulders and slowed my fast set pace. I pulled my earbuds out and turned to the only person who would have felt they were close enough to intentionally invade my personal space like that. "Morning Namjoon."

His cute dimples already appeared on his stupidly handsome face. "Morning. You didn't text me last night."

I did my best to roll my eyes and hide my joy inside, "Yea because you weren't worth my time."

He chuckled, bumping into me gently, "Try all you want y/n. I know you liiiike me."

Cocky little shit...but true. "Go flirt with someone else. I'm going to be late for class." I quickened my pace to avoid being around him anymore. I seriously had no control over my heart when he was around.

After hours of painful mind Olympics trying to translate as fast as my professors could speak, I was happy to be walking towards the glorious gates of the campus.

"Wait up," I turned to see Namjoon as he ran with an adorable bounce towards me, "Let me walk you home."

I tried my best to not squeal out loud, only in my head. "Would love to, but I have work."

"Then I'll just walk you there."

Eeek!!! Prince charming lives in Korea and he's talking to me!

"Duh~"

Stop ruining it, you turd monkey!!

He mostly talked and I listened as we walked together. "Why are you always so quiet?"

Crap. "Uhm...it's stupid." He walked ahead of me and smiled. Ugh! That perfect smile will be the death of me!!

"So? Do I make you uncomfortable or something?"

My eyes shot wide with panic, "Nonono!! Nothing like that. It's just...I don't know...I guess I like listening to you more than I like talking." Sort of... "It's lame, but you're the only person I know who likes talking in English. It's like...a slice of home hearing my native tongue in a place so alien to me." I chewed on my cheek as he stopped in front of me. "What Namjoon?"

He leaned down to be level with my height, "You're so lame, it's adorable."

I slapped his shoulder as he stuck out his tongue and turned to keep walking. So annoying!! But so cute too...

I stared at his back, he looked so confident when he walked. It was enchanting to watch.

"Stop staring at my ass."

"What ass?" He glared at me and sucked on his teeth in annoyance. I tried my best not to burst out in a fit of laughter, but I failed miserably.

"Don't act like you don't want this!" He wiggled his hips in front of me as he patted his butt.

"You look like a circus monkey and that old lady is staring at you like you have mental problems." His cheeks reddened and I fought the urge to awww~ in his face.

"Shut up..."

Aww~ flustered Joon is cutest Joon!!!

We stood in front of the library I worked at. "Well, I guess I'll see you later?" I played with my fingers, as I looked up at him.

"Actually, I'm having a get together with some friends at my place later. Do you want to come?"

My heart stuttered a little when I met his eyes, "I'd like that."

His showed that perfect smile that made my heart panic more, "What time are you off work? I'll meet you here so I can walk you back to my place."

I rolled my eyes, "I can walk there myself, you know?"

"No way. It's already getting dark outside. What kind of friend would I be?"

Friend... "Ha. Yea you're right...I'm off at 8" He opened his arms for a hug and I willingly got into them.

"I'll be waiting." He winked and I felt his eyes on me as I walked into work.

I turned around and waved at him. He just smiled and nodded his head as he turned to walk away. Friend...ugh!!!

Sweet time transitions

"Ok. I'm going to finish up here and clock out." My coworker smiled at me and wished me goodnight. I headed to the employee break room to grab my belongings as I rubbed my eyelids. It's been an exhausting day.

"Y/n!", my manager appeared like the Satan he is.

"Yea?" Please don't ask me to stay late!

"There is a new hire coming in tomorrow. I want you to train them. Alright?"

A new hire...isn't there already enough people working here? It's one mediocre library. "Yes, sir. How will I know which person is the new hire?"

My manager looked at me dumbfounded, "it'll be the employee you don't know."

...idiot... "Right....well I'll see you tomorrow then Mr. Kim." He just nodded and walked off while I mentally face palmed. My brain must be seriously fried after today...

I walked out of the library and looked around for Joon. Huh...he's not here. I took my phone out of my purse and checked to see if I had  any messages.

Joon💜

Running a bit late! Sry.

My friend wanted to come too 🙄

Hope you don't mind...

I sighed as I wrapped my coat around my myself as tight as I could. It's only August, but it's already started to get pretty cold at night. Please hurry~

I decided it was best to not stand in front of work, I wandered towards a nearby streetlight. It should be close enough that Joon could find me. There was no one around anyways. He'd be an idiot if he couldn't find me.

My eyes scanned the nearby woods...well sort of woods. It's just a few trees that the city had put in to make the area more pleasant to look at. Before it was just a dirt field. As I watched the trees I noticed movement. The frick... "Hello? Is someone out there." Please be a no. Please be a no. I scanned the trees for any signs of life. Ok frick this!!

I started to make my way back to the front of the library where creepy things definitely did not lurk in the shadows. However, I still felt like I was being watched. My heart started to speed up, as did my legs. I swore I heard footsteps behind me, but I was too afraid to look back. Someone's hand grabbed onto my arm and turned me to face them as I yelped in fear.

"Woah! Sorry y/n...I didn't mean to scare you.", Namjoon said.

Heat rose to my cheeks quickly, but they were probably already red from standing in the cold. "Namjoon...Were you in the trees over there, just now?"

He looked over at the trees and back at me with furrowed brows. "No. Why?"

I stood closer to him to feel a bit safer, "I thought I saw someone...or something there."

He just chuckled and laid his arm over my shoulder. "Relax. It was probably just your imagination. Let's go, it's really cold already." He grabbed my hand and started walking me towards his home.

"Where's your friend?"

"Oh! He said he needed to run back to his place real quick."

"Ahh~ ok then." We continued our walk in silence, but I still felt a sense of unease. I swore if felt like there was someone watching me. I took one last glance at the treeline to see if I could make out a figure, but there was nothing. Huh...I'd much rather focus on Joon than my overactive imagination anyways.

Unbeknownst to her, a figure emerged from behind a tree, watching the two from the shadows.

"That was close." coming to stand on the sidewalk as they brushed off the dirt from the trees, "I think I'll stick around here for a while. Maybe something interesting will happen."

A/N: Guys OMG I’ve been locked out of this account forever!!!! I missed writing for you guys so much, but I didn’t want to start all over on a new account. I’m so SORRY, I’ve been MIA for about 2 years now!!!! This story has 3 parts written so far and I have zero ideas on how long it will be, but I love it so far! I’ve also been writing stuff for my own amusement that I can upload over time for you guys! AAAGHGHGHSH, I’m just so happy I was finally able to get back into this account!!!!

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Games People Play

Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff/Minor Angst

Word Count: 8343

Summary: Baz gets dragged to a party by Dev. Simon gets dragged to a party by Penelope. Hijinks ensue. Based on "spin the bottle" request.

Read on AO3

AN: Oy vey, this took longer than I wanted. Work keeps giving me the goddamn morning and closing shifts so I've been exhausted beyond belief. But now I'm down to four shifts a week so more writing time :D Shout out to @carryonmylovelies for being the best writing helper/encouragement this side of the cosmos. Love you hun <3 Hope you guys like this!

———————————————

Baz

“Baz,” Dev whines, draping himself all over my back like some annoying floppy blanket. “Please?”

“You being pathetic is certainly not going to change my mind,” I say, focusing intently on my own notes. We have finals in a week, dammit, and my cousin is more focused on this.

“But I need you there! To be my wingman!”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think I would be a good wingman?”

“Okay, less of a wingman, more of a support.”

“And since when am I a good support either?”

Dev plops himself on my desk, pushing a pile of my perfectly stacked notes. I scowl deeply. Fucking hell, I’m going to strangle him, blood relation be damned.

“Please, Basil? I’ll get you a new bullet journal or something nerdy like that.” He flicks my stack of leather notebooks.

“Nice try, but no cigar, cousin.” I push my glasses further up my nose. “I have far too much studying to do.”

He groans and slumps further against the wall. “But Agatha is might be there! She’s finally single again after three bloody years. This could be my chance!”

I scoff. “Sure.”

Dev glares at me so hard his eyes become slits. “A man can dream.”

“A man can hallucinate, especially with the right help.”

He leans over, arching over my very important homework. “Y’know, I heard Simon is going to be there too.”

Oh. Fuck. I freeze up, heat rising to my face instantly. A grin spreads across Dev’s stupid face. Bloody hell, I wish I had never told him about my stupid crush. Him, Niall, and I were all drinking cheap beer and playing truth or dare. Apparently that beer was strong to get me to answer “who’s your biggest crush?” truthfully. It’s not something I’m proud of, crushing on my gorgeous idiot roommate. But it exists, and it makes me- he makes me very weak. Damn Dev for using it to his advantage.

“He hates parties,” I mumble.

“Yeah,” Dev leans closer, “but rumour has it, Penelope Bunce is dragging him there. Something about getting him to have fun since his breakup with Agatha. Maybe he could have fun with you.”

I immediately throw a notebook at his stupid face so I don’t have to see it. But it’s also to hide my stupid bright red cheeks. The rational part of my brain knows that’s a one in a billion shot. Snow hates me. He thinks I hate him. It can’t happen. But my lovesick side desperately wants to be hopeful. Maybe, just maybe...

“Fine,” I grumble.

Dev straightens up. “Huh?”

“Fine, I’ll go with you to the stupid party.”

Dev grins like a kid on Christmas. “Yay! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Baz!”

He throws his arms around my neck, bringing most of his weight along with him. I push him off me before I’m strangled. “Yeah, yeah, you owe me, arsehole.”

“I thought Snow’s presence was your payment.”

“No. I expect five mint Aero bars by no later than next week.”

“Ugh, fine. Small price.” He jumps off my desk, then gives me one last squeezy hug. “You’re my favourite cousin.”

“That’s not saying much, considering your other cousins are my demon siblings.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Good point. Party starts at 8 in Fraternity basement. Meet me at my room at 7:45. Bring your game face and cologne. Maybe Snow will like the smell.”

He dashes off, but not before I chuck a pen at his stupid head. It just misses. Dammit. I sigh and hold my face, rubbing it up and down. What the fuck am I doing? This is idiotic. Snow hates my guts, I’ve made sure of that. I decided early on it was easier to just make him hate me from the start than confess my feelings and have him destroy my pathetic gay heart. Snow will always despise me. A party won’t change years of fights and snark and anger. No matter how much deep down I might want it to.

The door slams open, making me jolt. I don’t even need to look to know who it is.

“And a good afternoon to you too, Snow,” I say.

“Fuck off,” he growls like an animal. His uniform is in its usual disarray, tie loose and shirt rumpled. On anyone else I would call it sloppy. But on him, I find it ruggedly charming.

“Pleasant as always, I see.” I push up my glasses and turn back to my notebook, instead of looking at his stupid bronze curls and mesmerizing plain blue eyes.

“I don’t need your shit today, Baz.” I listen as he violently throws open his desk drawers. It sounds like a cabinet in a hurricane. Snow is always a force of nature, in both good and bad ways.

I sigh sarcastically. “Alright. Be as loud and pissy as you want, not like anyone else lives here. Don’t you have chemistry right now?”

He growls again and slams his drawer particularly loud. “Forgot my notes.”

“Ah, I see. Didn’t know you could take any.” The comment is out of my mouth before I can stop it. Sharp comments at Snow have become reflex at this point.

He gives the leg of my chair a good kick, rattling my whole body. I glare at him over my glasses, and he glares right back. Bloody hell, he’s so damn attractive. I look away before my face turns red. Luckily, Snow stomps away again, and I’m left in blissful peace.

Fucking hell, this party is going to be a nightmare.

———————————————

Dev

I’m putting the finishing touches on my amazing hair when I hear the knock.

“That Baz?” Niall asks me, voice all nasally from his clogged nose. He’s on his bed, reading some football magazine while surrounded by a mountain of tissues.

“Probably,” I reply. “He’s willing to go to the party with me.”

Niall scoffs but it comes out as a cough. “Sorry I have allergies.”

“Excuses, excuses.” I waltz over to the door. “Baz is my true friend.” I fling the door open, and my hands immediately drop. “Oh my god.”

Baz raises one eyebrow at me. “What?”

“What the ever loving fuck are you wearing?!”

Baz looks down at his perfectly pressed navy slacks, buttoned to the collar white shirt, and polished black oxfords. “Have you gone blind, cousin? It’s a shirt and slacks.”

I groan and shake my head. “I can see it’s shirts and slacks, Baz. Why are you wearing it?”

“Because it’s good party attire.”

“Mother of God, Basil, you- I just-” I groan again, grabbing his wrist to haul him inside. “Get in here, we have to fix you.”

“Fix me? But-”

“You’re not wearing a suit to a high school party, end of story.” I push him down onto my bed by his shoulders. “First off, this goes.”

I reach out and ruffle his slicked back hair. He smacks my hand away. “Hey!”

I shove a finger in his face. “No one under forty slicks back their hair. And if they do, they’re an arsehole.” I hand him my wide tooth comb. “Comb it out. Now.”

“Why?” Baz hisses.

“Because you don’t want Snow to mistake you for a tight arse banker, right?”

Baz keeps frowning, but starts combing it out anyway. Good. “Next, you’re not wearing these.”

I take his glasses off his face. Baz gapes and tries to snatch the spectacles out of my hand, but I’m too fast. “Dev! Give those back!”

“No! They make you look even more nerdy, and right now we’re making you look cool.”

“But I need them to see!”

“No, you don’t. You only need them to see stuff that’s super far away. This basement is not that big, you’ll be fine. Honestly, I think you wear these to look smart.”

Baz frowns, but he doesn’t protest. He knows I’m right. I nod and go to Niall’s dresser, sorting the messy piles on top that should be in the drawers.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Niall asks furiously, but I can’t take him seriously with that high pitched clogged nose voice.

“Baz is going to borrow some of your clothes.”

“Why not your’s?”

“I’m a head shorter than Baz. You two are the same height.”

Baz scowls. “I am not wearing Niall’s clothes. He dresses like a wannabe club cruiser.”

Niall leans over and punches Baz in the arm, hard. Baz growls and punches back with just as much force. Seriously, are they still five?

“No,” I say, “Niall dresses like a normal teenage boy. And tonight you’re going to pretend you’re one too.”

I throw more clothes onto the floor, until I finally find something good. I grin ear to ear. Yes, this is perfect. I turn around and toss the clothing right at Baz’s face, hitting him with a small whack. “There. Wear these.”

Baz takes them off his face and gives them a once over. He looks positively disgusted. “Absolutely not.”

“No bitching. Put them on or we’re not going and you don’t get to gaze longingly at Simon from across the room.”

He looks indignant, and I’m worried he’s going to punch me. But instead he just huffs and stomps to the door, heading to our communal washroom I suppose. I lean to the side to shout at his back. “And you’re wearing Niall’s sneakers! Not those bloody oxfords!”

He flips me off before slamming the door hard. I chuckle and flop back on my bed.

“What would he do without us?” I sigh.

“I think he’s considering finding out,” Niall replies, then sneezes loudly into a tissue. He slowly brings it away. The whole kleenex is covered in snot.

“You’re disgusting” I say.

“Fuck off,” he grumbles. “I hope Baz ends up killing you.”

I smirk, laying down on my crossed arms. Baz won’t kill me. I’m going to have my chance with Agatha, he’ll have his chance with Snow, and we’ll both be happy. Everything will be great.

———————————————

Simon

Everything sucks.

Why am I even here? I’m tired, I’m sweaty, I’m still getting over Agatha, and this party sucks. It’s just a bunch of my classmates in a dingy basement, totally pissed out of their minds, stumbling and bumping into each other. There’s not even any dancing. What’s a party without dancing?!

“I’m bored,” I groan, flopping against Penny, cheek pressed on her head. She sighs and pushes at my side.

“You’re bored because you refuse to leave this wall next to the snack table,” she replies. “Go mix and mingle, bloody well talk to someone other than me.”

“But everyone else doesn’t like me.”

“That’s not true, Si, lots of people like you.”

I scoff and cross my arms. Penny’s usually never wrong, but this time she is. People don’t like me, they’re fascinated by me; the weird orphan scholarship kid, the headmaster’s pet project. Only Penny and Agatha actually like me and know me. (Well, Agatha did like me.) And then there’s Baz, who just straight up hates me. Posh prick. Just because I wasn’t born with perfect hair and pretty eyes and a silver spoon shoved up my arse like him he thinks I’m lower than dirt. At least I don’t dress like a nerd. That’s one advantage I have over him, I guess.

“Are you going to leave any snacks for the rest of us?” Penny asks.

I look her in the eye as I shove a bunch of crisps in my mouth. “I’ve captured these crisps in the name of House Snow.”

Penny rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I never should have introduced you to Game of Thrones.”

I smile wide, crisps filling my chipmunk cheeks. Penny laughs happily. Well, maybe being here isn’t too bad. I turn back to look out at the party, still grinning. But then my mouth immediately falls open, chip crumbs spilling on my shirt.

“Simon!” Penny yells. “What are you, five?!”

I dust the crumbs off my shirt, quickly chew and swallow, and point at exactly what I’m looking at. Or more precisely, who. “Penny, Penny, look. Tell me I’m not crazy, is that Baz?!”

Penny squints, pushing her glasses up her nose. I watch as her brown eyes go impossibly wide. “Holy shit, it is.”

“Holy shit,” I echo. Because...this is insane.

In the years I’ve known him, Baz has always dressed like a posh nerd. Uniform crisp and pristine, glasses down his nose like some snooty scholar, and raven hair gelled to oblivion. But tonight, he’s very different. For one, he’s not wearing his glasses, making his cheekbones look even sharper and deep sea grey eyes more visible. His hair isn’t gelled either. It falls in his face in a lazy wave. Most shocking of all, for the first time ever, he isn’t in businessman attire. He’s wearing a torso hugging charcoal grey v-neck, white trainers, and black skinny jeans. Since when does Baz wear black fucking skinny jeans?! And they’re like, really tight, showing off every toned muscle he’s gained from playing football. I can’t stop looking, holy shit.

“Simon? Hello? You still in there?” Penny is waving a hand in front of my face. I blink rapidly, snapping out of my jeans induced trance.

“Uh, yeah, Pen, I’m here. Oh my god, what is going on with Baz tonight?”

She shrugs, looking more like me than herself. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s decided to change up his style.”

“I seriously doubt that. He’s been wearing the same kind of clothes since we were all eleven, Pen.”

“People can change.”

“Not Baz.” I narrow my eyes, examining his strange outfit  with careful precision. “He’s plotting something.”

Penny sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose. “Simon, for the last time, Baz is not some vampire supervillain.”

I scoff, crossing my arms with a frown. “Says you. I just haven’t proven it yet.”

“Whatever, Si. How about you try to have fun tonight? That’s why we’re here, remember?”

I hear what Penny is saying, but I’m still watching Baz. He’s got his arms crossed, leaning on one foot, a frown on his face. But that last one could just be, y’know, him. Everything about his face is designed for pouting. Either way, he doesn’t look happy to be here, no more than me. He must not like that his plot isn’t working or something. I keep glaring at him as I shove M&M’s into my mouth.

“And you’re gone,” Penny sighs. “I do not get your issue with him.”

“You don’t live with him,” I grumble through my candy.

“No, but I feel like I know way too much about him because of you. Seriously you need to stop obsessing over him.”

Baz lifts a hand to tuck a piece of his raven hair behind his ear, showing off the pointy tip. I stroke my chin. What’s the purpose of that? Is he trying to distract me? Is he trying to pretend he’s all cute and innocent and not evil? Strange, very strange...

“Hey! We’re playing spin the bottle!” someone shouts. “Who wants in?”

I stay on my wall. I don’t have anything against spin the bottle, but I’m busy, and not really in the mood to kiss a few random classmates. Plus I haven’t seen Agatha yet, but she might not be here. I’d rather not run into her.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on my arm and someone is dragging me away. I look over at Penny, who has a determined expression on her face.

“Pen, where are we going?” I ask, fear filling my voice.

“You’re going to play spin the bottle.”

I inhale sharply. “What?! No way!”

“Yes way! You’re going to go have fun, dammit.”

“Is spin the bottle supposed to be fun? I thought it was just embarrassing.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never played. And I’m not going to play cause I’m in a serious relationship.”

“Great endorsement,” I mutter. I try to wriggle out of her grip, but it’s no use. She’s like a bloody pitbull. Eventually, she turns to face me, hand on her hip.

“Simon, you can’t mope and overthink about Baz against a wall the entire time. Just try this, see if you have fun. You haven’t had fun in ages. You can stop anytime, just try please.”

I sigh, body and ego deflating at once. “Fine, I’ll try.”

Penny smiles a bit. “Good.”

She lets go, but I keep walking towards the loose circle of tipsy British teens. I recognize most of them. Trixie, Keris, Rhys, Gareth, and Philippa. (Luckily no Agatha, that would be awkward.)

“Hey we’ll join!”

We all turn to the left. “Oh god,” I groan.

Baz glares at me as he sits next to Dev, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes are deep sea grey daggers trying to stab me in the head. Why did he have to sit so close to me?! Luckily there’s a slightly drunk boy between us, wobbling back and forth even though he’s sitting. Hope he doesn’t get sick on any of us, especially if we’re supposed to be bloody kissing.

Oh fuck, what if I have to...no, no way. There’s very little chance that will happen. The universe can’t hate me that much.

Keris raises her hand. “I’ll go first.”

I lean my cheek on my palm. I really don’t care who goes, as long as it’s not me. Keris grabs the vodka bottle and gives it a good hard spin. I follow the spinning with my eyes, watching as the low orange light reflects off the glass. It’s kind of hypnotising, almost makes me want to sleep. Christ, I’m bored.

The bottle finally stops, and everyone either laughs or groans. It lands right on Trixie. I burst out in fits of giggles, clutching my stomach. Okay, maybe the universe sucks, but at least it has a sense of humour.

“You cheated!” Gareth declares.

Keris snorts and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I can totally cheat at spinning a bottle, Gareth.”

“If there is you found a way!”

Keris shrugs. She turns to her left and kisses her girlfriend right on the mouth. The really drunk people whoop and cheer. Some of my more immature male classmates gasp or gape like fish. Penny just sighs behind me. This isn’t unusual for her. I’ve heard many rants from her about Trixie and Keris’ snogging in her room. This is probably mild for her.

The couple separates with a little pop. Both girls are grinning ear to ear. A few boys are still gaping, which is kind of gross. I glance over at Baz, to see if maybe he’s having any sort of reaction. But he’s still as stone faced as ever. He seems to be having even less fun than me. That’s one plus, I guess.

“My turn,” Trixie singsongs. She lays a delicate hand on the bottle and spins it. It lands a foot away from me, and for a second I think it landed on Baz. My heart rate jumps a beat. Holy shit, did that land on him? But when Dev raises his hand, I let out a long breath, feeling relieved for some reason.

“I don’t think you want to kiss me,” Dev chuckles, and everyone else chuckles along with him. Except Baz, because he’s a creature of darkness who is physically incapable of laughter.

“The cheek okay?” Trixie asks

Dev shrugs with a small smile. “I’ll take it.

Trixie leans forward on her knees and Dev follows. She plants a big wet kiss on his cheek. Rhys gives a sarcastic whoop and holler. Gareth gives his own over dramatic “oooooo” and pumps his fist. As she sits back, Trixie rolls her eyes, going back to slum;ing on Keris’ shoulder.

“You two are so mature,” she drawls.

Gareth and Rhys keep giggling and high five each other. I chuckle under my breath. It’s immature, but just a bit funny. Dev takes the bottle in hand and spins it hard. I’ve heard rumours he has a crush on Agatha, so whoever he gets he’ll probably be disappointed. I’m getting bored again, leaning on my hand. The bottle lands on Philippa. The cheering duo gets punched in the arm by Keris before they get out too many whoops or hollers.

Dev looks at the ground, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, you wanna, Philippa?”

Philippa flicks her eyes over to me for a second. I’m not sure what she hopes to see. Honestly, I feel kinda bad for not being what she wants me to be for her. I look down, because I’m not sure what else to do.

“Sure,” Philippa replies.

I lift my head just enough to see what happens. Dev and Philippa crawl towards the centre of the circle. They both look very nervous, both lacking in experience or alcohol or probably both. He leans forward, eyes closed and lips pursed. She does the same and closes the distance. The kiss barely lasts half a second, but drunk people still cheer like it’s a Manchester FC game. Dev and Philippa scramble to their seats with bright red faces.

Philippa spins the bottle without saying anything. I’m barely following at this point. Pretty sure I’m going to leave after this and go stuff mint aero bars in my mouth. That’s the best breakup therapy in my opinion. I hope Baz hasn’t eaten my entire stash.

“Simon?” Penny taps my shoulder forcefully. “Simon, it landed on you.”

My head snaps up, only to see everyone staring at me, some looking very confused and concerned. I look down at the vodka bottle, the top pointing right at me. My eyes go wide. “Oh,” I squeak.

Philippa is blushing all the way down to her neck,with a small smile. She plays with the end of her hair. “Do you want to?” she asks.

I gulp, fiddling with my fingers. I’m nervous, but not really reluctant. Philippa is nice enough and I know she likes me. Maybe it’ll be nice, maybe I’ll feel something. What’s the harm?

“Uh, sure,” I say with a slightly forced smile.

Philippa’s smile gets a bit bigger. Fuck, am I leading her on? I don’t want to hurt her. This is a terrible idea, shit. She crawls forward, closing her eyes and sticking her face out. I shuffle towards her, squeeze my eyes shut, and kiss her.

It’s slightly longer than her kiss with Dev, but not by much. Long enough for me to realise her lips are smooth and smell like vanilla. Other than that I feel...nothing. It’s not that Philippa is bad. I just don’t feel a spark or anything close. I used to feel something with Agatha. Not a lot, but there was a stomach drop or a heart flutter at first. Not now. Part of me is scared I’ll never find anything like that again.

We separate, everyone is still making their obnoxious cheers. They’re laughing and smiling, so I try to smile back. The only person not so happy is, weirdly enough, Baz. He’s got his arms crossed and the corners of his mouth threaten to break out of his cheeks just so his scowl can get bigger. What’s got his knickers in a twist? Maybe he has a crush on Philippa. Well, pissing him off is a benefit I guess.

“Your turn, Simon,” Philippa says meekly, smiling and blushing at the ground.

“Um...” For a minute, I seriously consider standing up and running like the wind. But everyone is looking at me. I guess one more time couldn’t hurt. “Okay.”

I grab the bottle and give it a firm spin. But I guess I’m slightly on an angle, because it spins to the left like a wayward football. People scramble away to not get hit, giggling and clinging to their friends. I’m just focused on where it lands. The sooner it’s done, the sooner I can bow out gracefully and stuff my face with chocolate. It slows bit by bit, and finally, it stops. I snap my head up to see who it landed on. I’m met with a pair of panicked deep sea grey eyes.

Oh fuck.

Baz

That’s it, God hates me. There’s absolutely no question now. Of all the people he could’ve landed on, why did it have to be me?! This is an absolute disaster. Panic washes over my body like a nonstop tidal wave. Dev laughs and slaps me on the back, like this is some football goal at a match. I want to shout at him for being a numpty and run away to a very dark corner where I can just die.

But I’m frozen, staring at a gaping Simon Snow.

“Oh fuck,” a drunk guy slurs to his friend, trying to whisper but failing horribly, “don’t they like, hate each other?”

Snow’s face shifts from shock to a deep, deep scowl. He jumps to his feet. “Yeah, we do. So this is not happening.”

I manage to stifle my sigh of utter relief, but my silence is probably odd. So I cross my arms and stick my nose in the air. “Good. Like I would ever want to your chavy mouth on mine.”

Fuck, why did I add that last part? I hope I’m not blushing and giving myself away. Snow is turned around, ready to leave, but throws a fiery look at me over his shoulder. “Fuck off, Baz,” he snaps.

“Very eloquent, Snow. Forgot to mention your mouth is stupid too.” Except it’s not stupid. It’s full and soft looking and fucking beautiful, and I wish he wanted to kiss me with it.

Snow balls his fist and looms over me. “Well, your mouth is naturally made for frowning.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, very nice. Your’s can’t form proper sentences.”

“At least I’m not spouting shit all the time!”

“Either follow the rules of the game or leave, Snow.”

Bunce rubs her nose under her glasses. “Simon, let’s just go.”

She takes his arm but he doesn’t listen to her for once, shaking her off and menacing over me more. “Oh, you want me to kiss you, Basilton?”

Oh fuck fuck fuck, what is wrong with me?! I didn’t drink anything. I think I’ve just lost my goddamn mind. I need to get out of here before I burst into flames from pure embarrassment.

I stand up, brushing off these ridiculous jeans. “Of course not. I would rather go back to our room than have my lips torn up by your dry ones.”

Simon growls like a caged animal. And it should not make me as excited as it does. “My lips are not dry.”

“Guys,” Gareth says slowly, “maybe you should just-”

“The constant bleeding and scabs would disagree.” Leave Snow, for the love of God, just storm off with Bunce, please.

“Oh yeah?” Snow leans forward over the drunk boy in between us. “Well, I bet if I kissed you, you would like it, arsehole.”

If I wasn’t blushing before, I certainly am now. I am literally going to explode on the spot any minute. I scoff and look away.

“Like hell I would.” Yes, I would, and it would be awful.

“Fuck you, you would!”

“Never!” I snap, digging my nails into my arm.

Snow growls once again. “I bet my goddamn sword history book you would!”

He’s leaning closer now, close enough I can smell his cheap soap. It makes my pulse quicken terribly, like the thump of a rabbit’s foot. “It would be easy winnings.”

“Says you!”

“Yes, and I’m right!”

“No you’re not!”

“I am!”

“Why don’t I prove it, huh?!”

“Fine, go ahead!”

I don’t even have time to process what I said. Because Simon Snow immediately grabs my collar and kisses me.

Holy fuck.

Simon

I just want to prove I’m right, and stop his stupid mouth. I hate when he throws insults at me. And now it seems for once I’ve actually shut him up. We’re both frozen in place, me shoving my mouth on his. I faintly hear everyone gasp around us. But I’m too focused on kissing Baz. Oh my fucking god, I’m kissing Baz!

He’s just standing like a statue while I hold his collar with a death grip and squeeze my eyes shut. He’s really not moving at all, not even a twitch. Is he surprised? That would make sense. Scared? I won’t hurt him, not right now. It’s just a kiss.

Baz’s lips are colder than Agatha’s. Softer too. Like silk sheets on a chilly night. It feels kind of nice, actually. When his top lip slightly slips between mine, I swear to god, my brain short circuits. Scratch kind of, this feels really nice. Sensation spreads from my mouth through my whole body. Why does this feel so much better than when I kissed Philippa? Or even better than Agatha? This is so confusing and amazing my brain is about to explode.

I don’t even know how long we spend with our lips pressed together. I tilt my head to the side a bit, just for a change of pace. And even though it’s crazy, I swear, for a moment Baz relaxes and pushes his mouth forward. Pushing his mouth closer to mine. Oh my god. Is...is Baz kissing me back? It feels so much better.

My hands slide around to the back of his neck, and Baz’s hair is soft of course. I think about grabbing it, but Baz suddenly pushes me away. It happens so out of the blue I stumble back in shock. I expect him to be angry, to punch me in the face or at least shout until he’s blue in the face. But Baz, he looks, scared. What’s there to be scared of? His eyes frantically dart around, chest heaving, until he looks back at me. I’ve never seen someone so frightened in my entire life.

Baz turns and bolts away, slamming the door behind him.

The entire room is silent for a long, awkward moment. You could hear a bloody pin drop it’s so quiet. I’m frozen, mouth hanging open. I can’t even process what just happened. So many things are going through my head right now, turning into a mushy goop of mismatched ideas and fears. I look at Penny.

“Pen, I- what just- I...” I can’t form words. My mouth and tongue feel so unbelievably useless, even more so than usual.

“Simon-” she starts. But before I hear what she says, I’m off running. I don’t know why I’m doing it, but I have to follow Baz. I just have to.

———————————————

It takes me way, way too long to find him. I search all throughout the Fraternity before I remember just how bloody dramatic Baz is. He wouldn’t hide away in the building, he’d go to where he always goes when he’s upset. Not his room or an alcove like a normal person. The Wavering Wood.

I run across the great lawn, wind whistling in my ears. The trees get larger and larger until I finally reach the edge. It’s dark out, so I have to navigate mostly by my other senses. I feel rough bark, sink into on wet dirt, hear the leaves crunch beneath my boots. I squint, trying to see in the darkness. And when I catch a glimpse of black shining in the moonlight, I dash towards it.

Baz is sitting under a tree, legs pulled up to his chest, face buried in his knees. Raven hair fans around him. I watch his back heave and shudder. Fuck. I don’t think he’s okay.

Slowly, I walk towards him, careful not to make too much noise. I don’t want to spook him, no more than he already is. But of course I step on a fucking branch, the snap ringing through the whole goddamn woods. Baz’s head bolts up. His eyes are wide and scared like a deer caught in the headlights. Tear streaks stain his cheeks. We keep staring at each other, until Baz looks back at the ground.

“What do you want, Snow?” he asks. He’s trying to be intimidating, but his voice is too strained to scare me.

“I, uh...” Fuck, what do I want? Why am I here? I’m not Baz’s friend. Quite the opposite, really. Yet it hurts to see him like this, so I start walking towards him, fiddling with my belt hole loops. “I wanted to see how you were doing. You um, ran out of there pretty fast...”

He snorts unkindly. “That wasn’t an invitation for you to follow, Snow.”

I groan, rolling my head back. “Man, I’m actually trying to be nice, there’s no need to be an arsehole.”

“Since when do you care about me?”

I shrug as I sit down on the grassy ground. I’m cross legged, facing Baz and his dagger stare. “You looked scared back the party, and then I see you here crying. I’d be worried no matter who you were.”

He rolls his eyes incredibly dramatically. “Of course, Mr. Hero. Any kittens that need to be saved from trees? Probably more pertinent than me.”

“You’re the one crying in the woods, so I think you take top priority.”

Baz tries to wipe away the tear marks, but they stay the same. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, you’re obviously upset.”

“No matter what, it’s none of your business.”

I look down at the ground, playing with my shoelace. I know what I want to mean, but I’m not sure how to get the words right. Everything I’m considering seems dumb. Baz will throw anything stupid back in my face. Actually, stupid or not, he’ll throw it back. Might as well just go for it.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. I flick my eyes up, and Baz is gaping at me, his eyebrows are all scrunched together.

“You’re...sorry?” he says, genuinely confused for the first time in his life.

I rub the back of my neck. “Y-Yeah, I’m just, really sorry.”

“For what?”

What the hell does he mean? What else could I be talking about? I look right at him. “For like...kissing you when you didn’t want it. It was stupid and impulsive and really rude to you. You should never kiss anyone when they don’t want it. So I’m really sorry.”

“You...think I didn’t want you to kiss me?”

“Um, yeah. I thought you said I could, but then you ran out of there pretty fast afterwards. So I’m just super sorry, Baz.”

There’s a long stretch of silence, only filled by wind whistling through the branches. I keep looking at the ground. I’m not sure what Baz’s expression, and I’m not sure I want to see. I hope he’s forgiven me. I honestly don’t know what to do if he doesn’t.

“Thank you, for the apology,” he says slowly. “But you don’t have to feel bad.”

My head snaps up. Baz is looking away now. And in the pale moonlight, I can see a faint blush going all the way to his ears. I’m not worried anymore, just unbelievably confused. “W-What do you mean?”

Baz plays with the hem of his shirt. “I mean, I’m not upset that you kissed me without my permission, because you had it. I did say you could. We both made an impulsive decision.”

“Then why did you run off so fast?”

He twists the hem so hard I’m afraid he’s going to tear it. “Because, it’s just embarrassing to have your first kiss in front of your entire class, no matter who it is.”

My eyes go impossibly huge. I swear they become bigger than the moon. Holy fucking shit. “That back there was your first kiss?”

His blush gets worse, spreading down to his neck. Baz has always been so cool and calm. I’ve never seen him like this before. It’s strange, but kind of makes him seem more human in a way. He nods slowly.

“Oh,” I squeak. I inch closer, trying to comfort him, before remembering that I’m the last person Baz wants comfort from. Especially after I embarrassed him. God, I feel like a prat. “I-I’m still sorry then. I didn’t mean to take that away from you.”

“Stop saying sorry, Snow,” he sighs. “It’s really fine.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I was okay with it, because I li-” His lips press together before he says anything else. He plays with a loose strand of his hair, looking nervous and shy, still blushing so hard his entire face is red. The gears start turning in my head. I’m not as oblivious as everyone thinks I am. I can see things, they can just take a bit longer. And I think I see something very big now.

“Wait,” I say slowly, “do you...like me?”

Baz bites hard on his bottom lip and clenches his fists. A few more tears fall down his cheeks, but he doesn’t wipe them away, not even acknowledging they exist. My mouth drops open.

“For how long? Have you, uh, felt like that?”

He finally looks at me, his eyes wet and vulnerable. I’ve never seen him like this before, not ever. He doesn’t look like a villain, or a bully, or even an arsehole. He just looks like...a boy.

“A long time,” he whispers harshly, like he’s forcing the words off his tongue. “Almost since we met.”

And I thought I was done with surprises for the night. My heart is beating twofold, but I’m not sure with what emotion. Everything is so jumbled and twisted up right now. “O-Oh. Really?”

Baz rolls his eyes, though he looks more annoyed than genuinely angry. “Yes, really. You think I would make that up?”

“I don’t know! I’m not sure I know anything about you anymore...” I nervously scratch at the back of my wrist until the skin turns red. Nothing is processing, nothing makes sense. And one question pops up immediately. “If you feel that way, why have you always been such a wanker?”

Baz lets out a small snorty laugh, and immediately covers his mouth. But it’s kind of adorable. And I kind of want to hear it again. “Very well put question, Snow.”

“Are you gonna answer it or keep being a wanker?” I’m not angry, just tired really.

“Fine,” he sighs. He goes back to twisting his hair and shirt, chewing on the corner of his pouty lip. “I was a wanker because it was easier.”

“Easier?”

His face lowers even more, nearly behind his knees. “Easier for you to hate me, than for me to confess my stupid feelings and innevitably have you break my heart.”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut, almost offended that he thought I would be so cruel. But Baz looks even more hurt. I think that his feelings matter more right now. “Oh. Okay. You thought I would really hurt you?”

“You were straight as an arrow and already madly in love with Wellbelove when we were 11.” He traces the dirt with his toe, scuffing the pretty white trainer. “You would’ve hurt me even if you didn’t mean to.”

“Oh,” I squeak.

Baz scoffs with the corner of his mouth pulled up. “That’s your favourite sound tonight, Snow.”

I let out a sort of scoffing chuckle. He’s an arse, but funny. I’ve never noticed how funny he can be in his own biting way before. “Well, you keep dropping bombshells, it’s perfectly reasonable. Honestly you’re lucky I’m not exploding everywhere.”

He laughs, still small, but doesn’t cover his mouth. He doesn’t hide. “Yes, well, cleaning up bits of you off the forest floor wouldn’t be my favourite activity. It would be more fun than your snoring though.”

“I don’t snore!”

“Yes you do, I would know. You’re like an adorable little fog horn.”

We both laugh, starting small and getting louder and louder. Baz even begins to giggle, fucking giggle. He sounds like a thousand little silver bells. I shouldn’t be laughing. Usually I would be offended by his jabs. I’d yell and scream at him for being a dick. But he’s laughing, smiling, all with a playful glint in his deep grey eyes. I wonder, is this what Baz is really like? When he isn’t trying to make me hate him?

“I like this,” I blurt out. Baz stops laughing immediately. A confused furrow forms between his brows.

“Like what?” he asks cautiously.

“This, right now, what we’re doing. Being nice and honest.” I shuffle closer, knees nearly touching his. “I like this better than fighting.”

Baz’s pouty lips fall open slightly, just barely half an inch, and his eyebrows raise. I think that’s Baz’s equivalent of completely, utterly shocked. “Seriously?”

I grin as wide as I can. “Yeah, seriously. Do you, uh, like it too?”

I expect Baz to smile, to laugh, to be happy. But instead he looks scared. Even his hands are shaking. I reach forward, but Baz pulls away, wrapping his arms around himself. Another tear falls down his face but he quickly wipes it away.

“Why were you crying?” I ask quickly. “Was it just like, embarrassment?”

Baz slowly shakes his head, more black hair falling in his face in a lazy wave. “N-No, it’s just...this can’t be happening.”

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t stopped hating me, that can’t change.”

His voice is so small and scared. I blink rapidly, tilting my head to the side. “Why not?”

He scoffs and shakes his head, staring at his own lap. “Because I’ve made your life hell for years! Because one stupid kiss and a few laughs can’t change things after so long.”

I move even closer. I can see every crevice in his face the moonlight hits, every sign of his tears. Oh. I think I get it, sorta. I kissed him, and Baz wanted it, but he was sad because he was sure it would never happen again. That’s a reasonable conclusion. At least, it was.

“Maybe it can’t change everything right away. But,” I reach forward and touch his wrist, just lightly, and when he doesn’t move away I stay there, “we could try, y’know. To change things.”

He doesn’t look up, but his brows wrinkle together again, and I find it unbearably adorable. “What are you saying, Snow?”

“I’m saying I want to be your boyfriend.” I say quickly before I lose my nerve. “I mean, I’m not a very great boyfriend, if my last relationship is any clue. But if you want this, I want this.”

I stare at the ground, too nervous to look at Baz’s face. I don’t let go of his wrist though, and he doesn’t move away, but it’s still silent again. Every passing second makes my anxiety build up and up like a shaken soda about to blow. Will he run away? He ran away before. I don’t want him to go, not again. I don’t want to lose him. (Fuck, that’s dramatic.)

“You’re an idiot,” Baz sighs, and it makes my breath hitch. “But you can have...this, if you want.”

My head snaps up so fast my neck hurts. Baz is finally looking at me, eyes soft and open. I’ve never seen him like that before. A grin spreads across my face. I probably look stupid but I couldn’t care less.

“I do,” I say, “I really do.”

He smiles softly. Slowly, he turns his hand around and fully holds mine. His skin is colder than most people’s and strangely rough for someone so posh. His calluses scratch perfectly against mine. It feels incredible, somehow so much better than holding anyone else’s hand. Just like that kiss.

“Hey, uh,” I nervously run my thumb over his tepid skin, “can I, um, maybe...kiss you again? Like in a nicer way?”

Baz chuckles, squeezing my hand. “Yes, you lovely moron, you may. If we’re going to date, you need to fix your gram-”

I get up on my knees and shut his cute smartarse mouth by pressing mine against it.

Baz

Bloody hell, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. Because for the second time in one night, Simon Snow is kissing me. And this time he really wants to, because he likes me, because he wants to be my boyfriend.

It’s not forceful or angry like before, just firm enough to get me to stop mocking him. I freeze for a moment, the shock hitting me like a truck. But slowly, bit by bit, I let myself melt into it. Snow tilts his head to the side, so I do too, letting our lips slip together. Simon does this thing with his chin that drives me insane. At first I try to mimic exactly what he does, shoving back with my body and mouth, but I quickly realise I have zero idea what I’m doing. For once, Snow is the expert. So I let myself relax, giving up control for the first time in my life. Snow pushes me against the tree and places a hand on the side of my face. He delicately runs his thumb over my cheekbone, like I’m something good, something precious to him. Is this a fucking dream?

His hand moves farther back. Calloused fingers slip through my hair as his tongue slips between my lips. It’s warm and wet and the best thing I’ve ever felt in my entire miserable life.

“Baz,” he sighs quietly between our mouths.

No, this isn’t a dream. My imagination has never been this perfect.

I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him flush against me. “Simon,” I groan. He kisses me harder, clenching a fist in my hair to better shove our faces together. Suddenly my breath feels short, and I push lightly at Simon’s chest. He moves away instantly.

“Sorry,” he says. He’s out of breath, unsurprisingly. I am too.

“No it’s okay, just,” I sigh and run my hands up his sides, “this is quite a lot for a second kiss. I just need a breather.

Simon giggles quietly. He falls forward, tapping his forehead against mine. I press my hands into his back, feeling the muscles through his shirt. We stay like that for awhile. I don’t mind. I would stay with Simon in my arms forever if I could.

“Hey,” he whispers, eyes still closed and leaning against me, “I’ve got a question.”

“Is it a sensical question?”

He pinches the back of my neck, just lightly. Not enough to hurt but enough to make his annoyance clear. “Yes, arsehole. Why were you at the party? You hate parties.”

“So do you.”

“Penny dragged me to it to have mandatory fun. So what’s your reason?”

I chuckle quietly. “Funny enough, Dev begged me to come with him because he wanted support for when he hit on your ex-girlfriend.”

Snow reels back, eyes wide and mouth falling open. “Seriously?!”

“M-hm.”

“But Agatha didn’t even come!”

“Yup. So it looks like I’ve had far more romantic success tonight than my cousin.”

Snow snorts out an adorable laugh. His hand trails forward across my jawline. It leaves sparks of sensation on my skin. He plays with a piece of loose hair in front of my face. “Y’know, I like your hair like this. You should leave it loose more often. Save some money on hair gel.”

I chuckle again, and Snow follows. Soon it turns into a loud laughter from both of us. I’ve never laughed more in my life than I have tonight. Once I calm down, I look up at him, smiling brightly. “M-hm. And you’re someone to take fashion advice from?”

A small part of me worries Snow is going to scowl and yell at me for being a prick. But instead he smiles too and rolls his eyes. I let out a small breath of relief. Everything is different now, and I love it so much more.

“Yeah, well, I know a good thing when I see it.” His hands goes lower, trailing over the soft v-neck. “Like this shirt. It fits you well.”

“Really?” I croon, trying to hide the fact that I’m exploding inside.

“Uh-huh. And these jeans. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you in them.”

I grin so much my cheeks happily ache. “Well, I’ll let Niall know you like his clothes.”

His mouth drops open. “This is Niall’s stuff?!”

I cock an eyebrow. “You think I own clothes like this?”

“Well, no. But I, uh, kind of wish you did. You should definitely buy more jeans...”

His cheeks are cherry red. I’m pretty sure mine are too. I hold his waist tighter, tilting my head up towards his. “I’ll be sure to get some on my next trip into town.”

He smiles again, looking like a ray of sunshine. “Can I come with?”

God, he’s like an adorable little puppy. “I don’t see why not, Snow.”

He leans forward and brushes our noses together. “You called me Simon before.”

“No I didn’t,” I singsong.

Snow pushes even closer to me, warm lips against my ear. “I like it,” he whispers. “I like it when you call me Simon.”

How have I not melted into the forest floor yet? I don’t feel like a real person anymore. Just the remnants of a pathetic gay teenager who’s melted into a puddle after having all his dreams come true in a single night. I hold him tighter. Because I’m not letting him go anytime soon.

“Simon,” I sigh, just before I turn my head and kiss him softly. He reciprocates immediately, and I’m in absolute euphoria. I know we have to move eventually but I don’t want to anytime soon.

“Best spin the bottle game ever,” Simon giggles.

“Damn right,” I whisper, just before pulling him back into a searing kiss.

My god, I’m living a charmed life.

———————————————

AN: Main worry with this fic: I feel like things move too quickly, but at the same time I didn't want to drag it out. Like we all know what's going to happen, best not to beat around the bush lol. Either way, this has flaws like anything I write, but I still like it. I thoroughly enjoyed writing Simon's reaction to Baz in tshirt and jeans lol. Hope you peeps liked it too, see you next fic :)

[ununniliad]

Return of Just Another Multi-Writer Cascade That Will Probably Never Have an Ending.GEKIJOBAN: "Friendgame"

The cover is a lovingly hand-painted portrait of Net.Access punching LAN.os right in the face.

----

A universe, not of hard and unyielding matter and energy, but of connection, affinity, the fundamental forces that bind people together - the Friend Zone!

And within that universe - the planet known as Rostir, home of the ghosts of millions of never-realized characters! And home to something else! Home of one of Looniverse-20's most powerful artifacts - an Absurdity Stone! In specific, guarded here is the soul of the Absurdity Stones, the mytheopeic center of everything that is the superhero genre - the Characterization Stone!

And upon that planet's misty magenta fields, beneath its violet sky with its soft robin's-egg clouds, lands the ship of - LAN.os!

The insipid purple man, fedora on his head, wearing a tailored business suit with the Crossover Queen's insignia on the lapel, walked down the ramp, followed by an average-looking, slightly slouchy black guy in a Moon Girl T-shirt, looking around and taking pictures with his phone.

"Haha!" shouted LAN.os, raising his chin, looking over the mist-covered landscape, soft like the dreams of a Lisa Frank unicorn. "Guardian! I summon you from your slumber. Awaken for LAN.os, son of the greatest warrior in the cosmos!"

The mists drew together before LAN.os, and out of them arose the shuffling, shadowy ghost of a character who never was - Ultra-Nazi-Squared, a concept for a net.villain who was dropped when the cultural view of Nazis as an easy default bad guy suddenly stopped being a Thing.

"lan.os of inferior," murmured the phantom. "you seek the stone... as have so many others... fools, all... once, i held the stone..."

"Skip the backstory, pathetic wretch, and take me to the site of my greatest victory!" LAN.os raised his fist in the air and shook it mightily.

The average-looking guy took a picture of the phantom. "This is going straight up on the Discord."

The villain-who-never-was lead them to the shore of a great lavender ocean, lapping at a beach of multicolored sugar sand. LAN.os grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Finally, my day of triumph and power approaches! Finally, the day the scales will be balanced - in favor of me!"

"Fat chance!" There was a THOOM! and water and sand sprayed up in the air as a figure landed on the beach. 

The wave crashed back down on LAN.os, who sputtered and flailed, suit and hat completely soaked. "Pff! Pfahfh! What!? Who! Who dares challenge LAN.os, second to the Crossover Queen!?"

"Who do you think, buster!?" There in the breaking tide stood a figure. She was dressed in a black catsuit with a red, blue and gold starburst on the chest and a stylish brown leather jacket with cybernetic wings on the back. On her head was a red fedora that worked a thousand times better on her, and on her hands were high-tech blue-and-silver gauntlets. She was the Keymaster of the Omnilooniverse. She was Net.Access.

"YOU!" LAN.os shook his fist at her. "Of course... I should have known you would come to oppose me!"

Net.Access shook her head dismissively. "Sorry, but I have bigger things going on. How'd you get back in the Friend Zone, tho? I figured I'd never see your weird chin here ever again."

LAN.os laughed. "Fool, I am stronger than you knew me! I have made... EXACTLY ONE FRIEND!" He grabbed the average-looking guy and squeezed him against his side. "DOUG, from the comic book store!!"

"Uh, hey." Doug wriggled in LAN.os's grip and waved to Net.Access. "Sorry about this."

She acknowledged him with a nod. "Pardon me if I don't applaud."

"Your praise is meaningless to me, so there! But I have entered the Friend Zone, and located the Characterization Stone, as part of the Crossover Queen's plan! Soon, we shall enter a great crossover, where I take my time obtaining all the Absurdity Stones, one by one, each one that I obtain bringing in at least half a billion dollars in the US, and even more worldwide! And when they are brought together, I-- I mean, she-- shall rule triumphant!" LAN.os looked around shiftily. "I'm definitely not planning to betray her. Just ask Doug!"

Doug nodded. "Yeah, totally. He comes to game nights and talks about how he's not planning to betray the Crossover Queen all the time."

"And now..." LAN.os turned toward the ocean. A great whirlpool formed on its surface, a swirling nexus ready to pull anything down into the briny depths. "The Characterization Stone requires a sacrifice! And I--" He lifted Doug up over his head, in both hands. "I shall sacrifice my exactly one friend!"

"Hey, wait wait what!" Doug squirmed around, dropping his phone in the sand. "LAN.os. Dude. We talked about this."

"Yes, Doug! I remember our great debates on the trolley problem, and my promise that I would not sacrifice any of the gamers with which we play! But you see, Doug!" LAN.os roared in triumph. "I HAD MY FINGERS CROSSED!"

Net.Access rolled her eyes, sliding her hand down her face. "Okay. Enough. Let him go."

LAN.os cackled in maniacal glee. "Now, we shall have the ultimate climactic bat--!"

Net.Access snapped her fingers and the beach underneath LAN.os turned into a quicksand trap from a 1950s adventure movie. He yelped as he was pulled down to chest level immediately. Net.Access tossed a vine to Doug and he climbed out gratefully.

"Like I said. I didn't come here to fight you." From the pocket of her jacket, Net.Access pulled a cube - or, rather, a Kube; one of the Kubrik's Kubes, once-mighty cosmic artifacts, now powerless pieces of multicolored plastic. "I came here to fix a mistake."

"Insolent woman!" LAN.os charged up his prodigious cosmic strength-- but by the laws of '50s adventure movies, flailing around only caused him to sink faster, and by the time he stopped, the quicksand was up to his shoulders. "As soon as my army--"

"You can't take an army into the Friend Zone, LAN.os, I know it's just you and Doug on an automated ship." Net.Access tossed the Kube up in the air, caught it, looking off in the distance, memories playing across the back of her eyes. "Do you remember, when we fought before?" She shook her head, laughed. "No, you wouldn't. It's not the kind of thing you pay attention to. But..."

She sighed, smiled wistfully at a happy moment. "After Victoria and I saved each other... we were talking to everybody, and I was like... well, I hope this teaches the Writers to finish what they start. And everybody agreed. But..." She shook her head. "But we were wrong. I was wrong."

"It wasn't..." Net.Access turned to look at the place the technicolor sky met the pastel sea. "It wasn't the unfinished stories that caused the rifts and put the Looniverses in danger. I thought that that's what it was, when I saw the great pattern at the heart of the cosmos, and the missing pieces that were breaking it apart. But..." She looked around, turned to Doug, just so she could have an audience who might listen. "But it wasn't the stories that hadn't been written. It was the stories that wouldn't be written. It wasn't just that the Writers weren't writing endings, they weren't writing anything. Because of guilt. Guilt over having left things half-done."

Doug nodded, eyes wide, not understanding a word, as a tide of mist rolled in from the fields and covered the beach in a whispering haze. LAN.os, nose-deep in the mist, sneezed.

"The impossible standards, the need to catch up, to..." Net.Access waved her hands in the air. "To climb a mountain when you've already fallen and hit every rock on the way down! Before you can do anything new." She sighed, taking off her hat and running her hand thru her hair. "That's how I failed Intro to Hamburgerology. Got caught on an unfinished assignment, never turned it in, stopped going to class... to be honest, I'm still not sure why they put sesame seeds on the buns."

"Uh, are you getting distracted?" asked Doug.

"My victory speech would have been a lot better," grumbled LAN.os. "It would have had lots of references to famous European philosophers. Sounded really smart."

"Right. Anyway, what I'm saying is, me and the whole narrative around the rift crisis might've made things worse." The wings on Net.Access's back started fluttering, and she rose up in the air. "So I decided to do what I could to fix things. To be honest, I was already in the Friend Zone before I sensed you coming. You're not what I came here for at all."

LAN.os snorted, turning his head away. "Humph! Women and their easy excuses..."

Doug sighed. "Did you even read the 'feminism 101' articles I kept linking you?"

"I... I skimmed them, I swear!"

Net.Access rose up over the whirlpool. "To summon the Characterization Stone..." She held out the Kube in front of her. "I summon our future." She closed her eyes. "The future where all those long-forgotten stories would be finally finished. Where everything that we hoped to see flashed before our eyes in a perfect moment. Where we could resolve everything, once and for all, and seal it with a perfect 'The End'."

The Kube began to glow, softly at first, then coruscating with silvery color, filling with the energies of dream and desire. "Once, I sacrificed a perfect, finished past for an unbounded future, bright with possibility. Now, I sacrifice a perfect, finished future, so that that unbounded possibility may be accessible to all, each day free of the guilt of ages, each day open and new!"

Net.Access lifted the Kube over her head, and the mist rose up from the beach, up from the magenta fields, up towards her. As the mist rose, it spiraled around itself, became a solid shape, like a tornado in reverse.

The tip of the tornado slammed into the Kube. It shook, and Net.Access held on with both hands, brows knitting as a torrent of unrealized possibility streamed recklessly in, the silver light brighter and brighter with each moment until it was eye-searing.

Net.Access lowered the Kube, holding it out before her, directly over the maw of the whirlpool. "I release the Writers! I release the plots! I release the guilt! I..." Her hand opened. "Release!" 

The Kube fell, tumbling end-over-end until it disappeared into the churning sea.

The whirlpool collapsed in on itself, and a column of light burst from the water. In the middle of that column was a fist-sized hunk of ruby, unfinished but scintillating with crimson light.

Net.Access reached out. Lighting crackled from the surface of the ruby into her outstretched hand, and she flinched, and turned her head away, eyes closed. But when she looked back, her eyes were glowing red, and her hand closed around the Characterization Stone.

"NO!" yelled LAN.os. "That was a meaningless sacrifice! Something you valued for the wrong reasons - something you had to let go of for your own good!"

Net.Access smirked, fedora perfectly perched on her head, eyes bright with the light of the Stone. "That's the most meaningful sacrifice you can make." She held the Stone in the air, pointing into the sky. "Let the wheels of characterization, stopped so long ago, grind into action once more! CHARACTEEEEEER... GRAND GROWTH!!"

Crimson lightning crackled around the Stone, around her body, and shot into the sky-- slamming against it like it was an invisible dome, and causing the dome to crack wide open, a gash that caused the alien light of a yellow sun to stream thru.

And thru that gap zoomed an enormous fishing hook, glinting golden, arcing thru the air and slamming into the sand. The hook was attached to a line, and the line pulled taut, pointing off thru the crack; and pulled thru by the line came a young man and an armored being. 

The man wore a white trenchcoat with shimmery silver trim over a white spandex bodysuit with silver boots, a silver belt with a gold buckle, and a gold, shield-shaped chest emblem with a silver fishing hook on it. The being's armor was composed of smooth plates, gunmetal gray for most of it, blue on the gloves and boots, with a shining white breastplate, a blue circle on the left panel, a blue square on the right, and a blank blue faceplate. Doug watched them fly down, mouth in an O of amazement, and snapped several pictures.

They landed with a thump! on the beach. "Net.Access, are you okay?" said the man. "I sensed an enormous plot hook right before that-- I mean, that rift opened." He looked concerned, youthful brow furrowed.

"I'm sensing intense cosmic energies from the object she's holding," said a deep, smoky voice from the armor. "It may be some form of cosmic plot device, tho from the spectral analysis, I can tell it is not the Cosmic Plot Device."

The Characterization Stone pulsed in Net.Access's hand, and a burst of crimson energy pulsed from her eyes. "Nnnn... okay, that's enough of that... Plot Hook Lad... Betamax... can you give me some kind of containment unit?"

"One moment." Betamax pulled seemingly random panels off her armor; beneath each was an identical panel, which rose into place. She brought them together, assembling a sleek gray-and-blue sphere with an iris on it, which she threw up to Net.Access; Net.Access dropped the Stone into it and sighed. "Whew."

"So do we-- WHOA is that LAN.os!" Plot Hook Lad took a step back.

"Hah, yes!" crowed the cosmic villain, raising his fist. "And now that you have secured the Characterization Stone for me, I will-- whoop, sinking, sinking..."

"Yeah," said Net.Access. landing on the beach. "Long story."

"He desired that object, and you stopped him," said Betamax.

"Okay, short story." Net.Access adjusted the iris on the containment sphere, and a trickle of crimson energy streamed out like mist. "But that's not important, the important thing is, talking about what's been going on in your lives lately."

"...you know, I know you've been spending a lot of time with your girlfriend lately, but you could have, like, sent a text or something," said Plot Hook Lad. "No need to unearth interdimensional artifacts."

"I believe it is for the artifact," said Betamax, whose voice was near-monotone yet excellent at conveying a subtle amusement.

"Right," smiled Net.Access, the drama of the previous scene slowly dissolving, the guilt that had been released easing away.

"Oh, well." Plot Hook Lad laughed, a bit of his old awkwardness showing up. "Why don't you go first, Betamax, and I hook in?"

"All right," she said. "As you both know, I was originally known to the LNH as Irony Man II, showing up after the original Irony Man retired, on a secret quest to find the Messiah of Sincerity so that we could recruit the cosmic being known as the Laziness to stop the cosmic beings known as the Serious Business."

"Right," said Net.Access. "I wasn't around for that whole thing; how did it go?"

"Well."

"...well?"

"Yes." Betamax's featureless head gave a simple nod. "We accomplished our goals."

"Ah." Net.Access scratched her head. "...okay, well, what's been happening with you lately?"

"Well, I decided to stay in the present, for now, as a member of the Legion. I took on the new moniker of Betamax, to signify an embrace not of technology as a simple arc of ever-increasing progression, but as a branching infinity of possible futures, and a reminder that simply because one is more 'advanced', one is not necessarily better."

"Wow," said Net.Access. "That is simultaneously really deep and excessively convoluted."

Betamax gave a small bow. "Thank you."

"Yeah, once that whole thing was resolved, I came back to the LNH too," said Plot Hook Lad. "They helped me get my life back in place, it was... really hard dealing with all the emotional stuff, but, like, better than the alternative, right?" He gave a chuckle and pushed his hair back. "My family's great... everything's okay now."

Net.Access took a step towards Plot Hook Lad and pulled him into a tight hug. He made a little noise of surprise, then returned it; after a moment, they separated. "So," said Net.Access, "how'd you come back to life, anyway?"

He grinned. "Oh, Masterplan Lad brought me back to life."

"Masterplan Lad!?" Net.Access blinked in surprise. "He never said anything about that!"

"Well, he hasn't done it yet, of course." Plot Hook Lad's grin widened, and he crossed his arms.

"...uuuuuh-huh." Net.Access found herself smiling despite herself. "And you're not gonna follow up on that, are you."

"Nope!" Plot Hook Lad bounced in place impishly.

"Okay, okay," said Net.Access, shaking her head cheerfully. "Well, get some cosmic-y types over here to contain LAN.os. Maybe stick him in the Ultimate Black Hole if that's still around? And if it's not, y'know, evil. ...it's probably evil tho"

"I shall contact my sources," said Betamax, walking over to the quicksand.

"Ha-HA!" cackled LAN.os, exulting. "LAN.os never loses! Now, Doug!"

"...now what?" said Doug.

"Activate the device I gave you, of course!"

Doug rummaged in his pocket. "You mean this weird silver thing with the red button that you said not to push?"

"Yes! Push it, Doug!!"

Doug sighed and handed the device to Betamax. "Dude, you literally tried to kill me."

"...for friendship, Doug! Or, well, causally linked to friendship, at least!" LAN.os attempted the puppy dog eyes, and Net.Access had to look away.

She looked toward Doug. "Are you okay? Physically, but also, uh, emotionally."

"Physically, yeah." Doug rubbed his thighs. "Emotionally... this has been a weird day."

"Yeah, it really--" The containment unit pulsed in her hand. "Hhh. Uhh, lemme just take care of this..."

Her outfit dissolved, reforming into a sepiatone version of Babe Ruth's uniform. She took a step back, winding up...

"Wait! No!" LAN.os shouted. "Fool! I'll have to find another-- I mean, make more-- I mean..."

Net.Access launched the containment unit over the ocean. It flew, arcing high into the air... and at the very top of the arc, burst apart, the Characterization Stone trailing crimson fire until it splashed into the sea and was gone.

She dusted off her hands. "Leave that for Earth-20 to deal with." She turned back to Doug, ignoring LAN.os's shouts. "I think it's gonna take a while for them to deal with this guy. Want a ride back?"

"Sure," said Doug, "but can't you only leave with a friend?"

Net.Access took his hand.  "When you go thru big weird cosmic stuff together, you're friends. That's a net.hero rule."

"Oh, well..." He rubbed the back of his head with his other hand, a bit shyly. "That sounds good. Thank you."

Net.Access lead him off the beach, down across the magenta fields. "I'm sorry if this is blunt, but... how'd you become friends with that guy, anyway?"

"Heh. No, I guess there's no good way to ask." Doug shrugged. "Honestly, he showed up at game night one week and just... really seemed like he needed something normal in his life. So we let him play. And like... honestly, for a while, it seemed like he was just... having fun just enjoying himself. But then... I don't know what changed."

Net.Access nodded in commiseration. "I think... some people can't let go of what they've convinced themselves they have to do. Even if it's not nearly as healthy for them as letting go and just having a good time."

"Yeah. You think I should, like..." Doug looked over his shoulder. "Cut him off?"

"That's up to you. But I would establish some boundaries, at the very least." 

"Yeah..."

They came to a tall, spreading tree with bark of rose gold and leaves of, surprisingly, emerald green. Beneath sat a well-composed, human-looking being, deep in a book, his umbrella leaning against a tree.

"Masterplan Lad!" Net.Access waved, and Masterplan Lad looked up. 

He waved and stood, putting away his book and taking up his umbrella as they walked over. "I see you met a new friend," he said.

Doug scratched the back of his neck, smiling. Net.Access chuckled. "Yeah, this place does that to you."

"Did you get done what you needed to?" said Masterplan Lad, adjusting his bowtie.

"For now." Net.Access looked off into the sky. "They'll probably need reminding."

Masterplan Lad nodded, a small, rueful, hopeful smile on his face. "They always do."

Masterplan Lad took Doug's hand, and together, the three of them walked forward; and as they walked, they shimmered into soft, multicolored light, and they faded from the Friend Zone. But they could return anytime they felt like it, without grief or pain. And, reader, so can you.

[221bshrlocked]

Like a Gentleman (2)

Pairing: Sebastian X Reader

Words: 2354

Warnings: fluff and awkward flirting

A/N: Damn this was meant to be a drabble I am incapable of writing short stories. Next part is last :) and will most certainly include smut. Enjoy.

Previous Part  Next Part

For some reason, it came as a surprise to you how modest Sebastian was. Whether it was from the way he converses or how genuine he sounds when he remembers something about Chris, you couldn’t help but feel at ease around him.

And the other thing that made your stomach hurt the entire time you were zooming through the streets with him was how funny he was. He told jokes with such grace and fluidity that had you grasping your chest in attempts to catch your breaths, occasionally begging him to stop or else you’d die.

Once he came to a stop and parked, you were about to ask him where you were when he beat you to it.

“We’re here babe.” Sebastian hadn’t noticed what he just called you, your smile when he opened the door for you making him blush and apologize for what he said. “It’s okay. If I’m being honest, I didn’t mind it.”

“Is that so?” He cornered you in between his body and the car, leaning down and kissing your cheek before grabbing your hand and slamming the car door. Throwing his keys to a man that approached the two of you, he asked him to bring the stuff you bought to his place and continued on walking.

As soon as you stepped onto the deck of the marina, you couldn’t believe your eyes. There were so many yachts, most of them larger than your apartment, and you had to attempt and control your excitement because one of these was his.

“Here you go Seb,” his man came up behind you and handed him the bag before leaving and locking the gate behind him. “Wait there has to be a mistake,” he called after his man, at which point he shook his head and turned to you. Grabbing the plastic bag from him, you checked what’s inside and told him it was the right one.

“You bought this?” Sebastian pointed at the content of the back before pulling out a key from his pocket.

“Is- god is it bad? I didn’t know what else t-”

“Oh sweetheart no no. I just, well I thought you were going to buy a couple and try them on.” He didn’t seem to be joking. “I mean I didn’t need one to begin with and you’re so kind and I didn’t want to be rude so I just got the one and I didn’t think much about how it looks and oh my god you probably don’t like it and you bought it and-”

“Babe, relax. I’m just surprised because...I’m just going to say it, any other woman would have bought fifty different ones and wouldn’t have even cared about my opinion and it’s nice. It’s nice that you’re- n-not after my money. I didn’t think you were I swear, but this is refreshing.” Sebastian started to stutter like you and you chuckled along with him nervously.

“And for the record, I think anything would look stunning on you.” He reached over and brushed your hair aside, pecking your forehead before leading you to his yacht. When you stopped in front of it, you didn’t believe your eyes. Even though it was the biggest yacht in the marina, it somehow didn’t belong. Unlike all the other ones, his was simpler, less about form and more about function.

“Howling Commandos,” you read the name written on the side and he turned to you. “It’s a, sort of joke I have with Chris and some other guys...I’ll tell you all about it over lunch.” You felt goosebumps erupt on your skin as soon as he grabbed your waist and carried you down the steps. You trained your eyes on him the entire time, Sebastian only noticing when he placed you down and was about to step away. “S-sorry I didn’t mean to ummm,” he trailed off and you couldn’t control yourself, standing on your tiptoes and kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you.” You felt your skin flush when he touched his lips and swallowed the lump in his throat, once again stuttering in attempts to say ‘no problem.’ You asked him where the bathroom was and he managed to point down the stairs. Excusing yourself, you threw your bag on one of the couches and made your way to the bottom of the yacht, suppressing a surprised shriek making its way up your throat because how the hell can it be even bigger downstairs.

Quickly changing into the bathing suit, you realized you hadn’t bought something to wear on top of it, deciding to grab the shirt on his bed and putting your arms through it as you ascended the stairs. Sebastian was grabbing paper bags from his friend and placing them down on the table, whispering something to him before waiting until he untied the rope from the deck to turn the key in the ignition. The yacht came to life with a roar, making you jump a bit from how loud it was. Sebastian heard you and turned around, completely forgetting to finish checking if everything was good to go. His jaw dropped at the sight of you wearing his shirt and he took off his sunglasses to get a better look at you.

“My god,” he stepped down and strutted towards you, taking your hand and twirling you around before unbuttoning your shirt and checking out the bathing suit.

“I don’t know what’s more mesmerizing, that gorgeous swimsuit or how fucking sexy you look in my shirt?” You giggled and looked away, thanking him when he told you he loved your laugh.

“It’ll be about twenty minutes to get out into the sea so make yourself comfortable, maybe get in the tub or something and I’ll cook as soon as we’re out.” He spoke as he checked the monitors, only stopping when he heard your question.

“What tub?” You looked around to see if you’ve missed anything.

“It’s upstairs with pretty much everything else.” He smiled when you blinked confusingly at him. “How about this, take this stuff to the kitchen and just relax until I follow you.”

“I’d rather stay here with you,” you approached him, leaning on the counter and giving him a puppy-eyed look. “I’m afraid it might get boring.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to keep me entertained,” you jumped up and sat across him, dangling your legs and brushing your hair aside when he just stared at you.

“Damn, where have you been all my life?” Sebastian laughed when you held your hands up and shrugged, sliding easily into conversation once more when he sailed past other boats. A few minutes later, he asked you to take over for a minute so he could go and change, telling you to just keep ahead until he came back. You yelled ‘sir yes sir’ back and saluted him, at which point he laughed out loud and told you how much of a dork you were.

It took you a minute to collect yourself and think of the past few hours. How was this even possible? Not a day ago you were wishing for something spectacular to happen and here you were, on a billionaire’s yacht, waiting for him to cook you food with a promise to entertain you for the rest of the week.

“You’re a natural babe,” Sebastian came back a minute later wearing nothing but his seahorse swim trunks. Your eyes widened when you saw just how muscular he was. “See anything you like?” Sebastian asked, a grin taking over his features and making you look away instantly because crap he just caught you ogling him.

“You know you’re really cute when you get embarrassed.”

“And you’re really annoying when you’re cocky.” You retorted before pushing past him and looking away. He followed you and wrapped his arms around your stomach, kissing your shoulders and apologizing for teasing you.

“It’s not my fault I want to see that cute little thing you do with your nose okay!” He tapped your nose and went back to the wheel.

“Well, in that case, I also really like it when you blush after getting complimented.” Two could play at that game you thought.

“And how do you know I do that?” He looked over his shoulder and winked at you.

“Sebastian,” you turned him around and trailed your fingers down his torso, feeling his ridged muscles flexing beneath you, “I think you’re really sexy.” His blush reached down to his neck and past, ending with a flushed chest and a heavy breathing pattern.

“I-” Sebastian was speechless because even though he wanted to reply and continue flirting, he suddenly felt shy and didn't want to hear anything else of the likes from you.

“See,” you winked at him and moved away, telling him you’ll carry the bags upstairs and come back. You made two trips, making sure to tell him that he bought way too much food for the two of you. About to make your way to him again, you stopped when you saw him ascending the stairs and shooting you that million, or in his case, billion-dollar smile.

"I'm feeling fettuccini. You want chicken or shrimp with that?"

"Chicken of course." He laughed before turning around and taking out all the utensils.

"What's so funny?"

"You say chicken in a funny way," Sebastian remarked as he prepared the spices and began to cut the chicken. "You're such a dork." You pulled on his hair and he almost moaned at the action, hiding the sound with a hiss instead.

"That I am! Now sit back, relax, maybe pour us some wine...or beer, whatever you prefer, and watch the pro work."

"Oh you're a pro now?"

"I learned a few things from my mom. And she always told me, if you want to impress a woman, cook for her."

"Well, your mom is a wise woman because she is absolutely correct. So you asked me all those questions and I didn't even have a chance to learn anything about you!" You handed him the milk and walked around to get some wine glasses.

"I'm an open book, ask me anything."

"Where are you from? I noticed you said something to your friend when we got here and I couldn't understand anything."

"That would be Romanian...I'm from Romania and Dan is the only one I hired that speaks it."

"How come?"

"My mom knows his dad and he asked her if she has any job for him and well, she told me and I didn't know how to recommend him. He only speaks Romanian with a bit of English and no one would even bother to interview him so I made him my personal assistant. And he does a hell of a job too so it worked out." When you didn't reply, Sebastian looked up and saw you staring at him. "What?"

"God can you be any more perfect?” Sebastian rolled his eyes at you and laughed. “Maybe,” was the only thing he said before he changed the topic. It took him longer to finish cooking, warning you to stop distracting him with how you were looking at his hands or licking your lips. At some point, you had to run away from him because he warned you he’d tickle you if you didn’t stop teasing him.

It was around three in the afternoon when you sat down and started eating, the silence taking over not awkward in any way to the two of you. Once you finished and complimented him on his skills, you cleaned up with him and thanked him for bringing you more wine.

“After you,” he held both glasses as you stepped into the tub on his deck, handing them to you when he stepped in and swore at how warm the water. he brought you closer and wrapped his arm around your back, kissing your forehead when you rested it on his shoulder. The more you drank, the easier it became to talk to him and before you knew it, the two of you finished an entire bottle of wine. Sebastian took your glass away and set it on the floor near him.

As soon as he turned around, his breath hitched.

“God damn,” he couldn’t help saying when he saw the way you were looking at him. “What is it?” You whispered, slowly leaning into him and brushing his hair away.

“You gotta stop looking at me like that baby.”

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” He shut his eyes when you scratched his neck and pulled on his hair.

“Cause I’m barely holding myself back Y/N...” Sebastian squeezed your shoulder, noticing how red your lower lip became from biting it. You pulled him by his neck and kissed him, moaning into his lips as soon as he wrapped his arms around your waist and placed you on his lap.

The kiss suddenly became heated, Sebastian’s hands grabbing your ass and squeezing hard before grinding you down on him.

“Shit, I- sorry I didn’t mean to-” He pulled away and looked anywhere but your flushed skin, knowing he would take this a step further if he didn’t stop now.

“Please...stop apologizing and just fuck me.” You grabbed his chin and smashed your lips with his again, nails digging into his muscles and feeling them twitch under you.

“With pleasure,” Sebastian whispered right before standing up with your legs locked around his hips. He dried his feet off quickly on the carpet, not wanting to slip with you in his arms. You saw him going up the stairs to the next floor and asked him why he wasn’t taking you somewhere more private.

“No one has three floors on his yacht in this entire marina sweetheart,” he kissed your neck and slowly placed you down on the mattress, pulling down the curtains to give you some more privacy, “and I really wanna make love to you under the sky.” Sebastian crawled towards you with a wolfish grin, a chuckle erupting from him as soon as he heard you whisper ‘fuck’ under your breath.

[noonachronicles]

Here to Mars

Song Min Ho/ Mino X Reader

Word Count: 10.6K

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Futuristic...Space...Stuff?, Military!AU

Warnings: Mature themes including, sexual activity, vulgar language, and intergalactic violence.

A/N: Thank you to my Mino Anon for waking up something inside of me that was apparently dying to get out. HUGE thank you to @memoiresofaneternaldreamer for doing a light proof of this monster, but mostly for this AMAZING moodboard that made me cry at work because I wasn’t expecting such a perfect gift. I hope people like it, even if you don’t...here it is anyway because I worked really hard on it...

Honey, it's in the stars. And you're my everything from here to Mars

And every word I say I truly mean 

Dear darling, I hope I'm being clear 'cause there's no one like you on earth

That can be my universe.  

Lieutenant Song Min Ho was trouble. You knew this about him before he even stepped onto your ship. You knew because every single one of his superiors before you warned of him. Of his disregard for the rules and inability to follow direction. The thing about Song Min Ho, or Mino as he had apparently preferred, was that he was also the best known pilot in about a billion galaxies. What was worse was that he knew it. So when your admiral had told you he would be joining your crew on the G.S.S. Mobb you couldn’t exactly refuse.You had the best ship in the entire Galactic Guard, it made sense you would have the best pilots.

When he finally arrived it took him a total of five minutes to plant himself on your bad side. You were always one of the welcoming officers for new recruits to your ship, and the smug way he entered your bridge as if it was already his infuriated you. Mino was instantly attracted to you and didn’t seem to feel the need to hide that fact. Your strength, your power, there was even something about your clear disinterest in him as a subordinate that drove him wild.

Unfortunately, you learned, he really was as great a pilot as everyone had suggested. He’d been quick to fall into a leadership role with the rest of your flight crew. And in his first three months on the ship he’d seen 15 minor combat situations and had been able to deflect any and all damages from the main ship. That was the only reason you could justify not having written him up already for relentlessly causing mischief throughout your domain. You did everything you could in an attempt to ignore him not realizing that it was your attention he was seeking all along. Once Mino had an idea of what might warrant your regard he concocted his stupidest plan yet.

It had been a slow day, giving you the chance to walk the ship with your second in command. It wasn’t often you got the chance to really take inventory and you were pleased to find that everything had looked good. The ship was spotless and well maintained. On other ships an unannounced walkthrough would leave room for mistakes, but your crew was the best and your ship was always flawless.   

“What’s this?” you asked as the two of you reached the flight deck.

It seemed a large group of rowdy pilots had gathered in the hanger and were looking out into the vast empty space just beyond the ships seal.

“Uhhh…” your second tried to search the logs on his handheld for information on what was happening. “I don’t know, Captain. There shouldn’t be any activity down here.”

“So who the fuck is that?” you asked as one of your fighters shot passed the opening of the ship at high speed..

The crowd of pilots, maintenance crew members, and really anyone within earshot of the flight deck, cheered wildly. You watched the fighter shoot back and forth, playing chicken with small meteors, blasting them to bits and then speeding through their remains. In general being a showoff.

“Mino…” You spat, making your way through the crowd.

Everyone had been too preoccupied with his show that they didn’t even recognize that their Captain was among them. With your arms folded across your chest you watched his show. As he went on the crowd grew even rowdier, thrilled by his performance. At times even you found it hard not to allow for an impressed smirk.

So enthralled by his flying you barely noticed the other pilot that finally recognized you in the crowd. He grabbed his radio and you could hear the krshht of his call out. “Uh...lieutenant you’re gonna want to come back in.”

“What for?” You could just hear the smug grin on Mino’s face over the radio.

“You’ve gained an audience.”

“Thanks, that’s the point, Seungyoon.”

“Mino… the captain is down here.” He lowered his voice but not well enough, “She looks pissed.”

“Ah. Roger that lieutenant. I’ll be coming back in then.” He said with a cheerfulness that made it seem like that’s what he’d been waiting to hear all day.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Kang.” You said before making your way back out of the crowd.

You were going to finish your walk. Go back to the bridge. Hopefully finish up your quiet day. Instead you heard the unmistakable sound of crushing, scrapping metal and the entire gathered audience gasp in concern. You turned back to the seal just in time to see Mino’s fighter come crashing back onto the flight deck. Narrowly missing other fighters and handfuls of crew members. Once he had skidded to a complete halt Mino released the hood and jumped, with a superfluous amount of enthusiasm, from the cockpit to a round of cheers from the crew.

“I’m alive!” He shouted happily. “I think I broke my arm...but fuck it! I’m alive!”

His eyes scanned the crowd until he met your infuriated gaze. The smile on his lips hardly faltered at all.

—

“You’re on medical probation with that broken arm, Song.” You said almost the second he entered your quarters later that afternoon, after having his injuries catered to in the infirmary. “And you’re lucky I don’t have you removed from my ship completely for the fighter you destroyed.”

“Captain. Good to finally see you again.” He smiled, taking a seat in the chair across from your desk. He casually crossed one leg over the other and placed his casted arm on top of his thigh. “It feels like it’s been years since you welcomed me onto this immaculate ship and then never came to see me again.”

“I am the captain of a ship whose crew is over a thousand. Do you think I have time to babysit every single one of you?” You asked slamming your pen down finally looking up at him. “That’s definitely how you behave.”

“I just couldn’t figure out why you’d been ignoring me.” he said with a sigh of relief, clearly ignoring your words, “now it seems so clear.”

“And what reason seems so clear to you now?” You questioned in a huff of frustration.

“Obviously, you’re afraid to fall in love with me.” he grinned, “I suppose I don’t blame you. You have a great crew here but none of them, I've noticed, have been brought on for their good looks. Well, with the exception of you, if you ask me. Not that you aren’t also a great leader. I’d say it’s about half and half. Half the severity of your hair bun, half the severity of your leadership. It makes for a whole...lot of sexy.”

“Song, you’re the best pilot this ship has ever seen. I’d hate to have to have you removed for blatant misconduct and sexual harassment of a superior.” You hoped he could tell by the look on your face that you weren’t playing his game.

“My apologies, Captain. I meant no disrespect.” He said solemnly. You could see the grin forming before he muttered, “I must have misread the situation.”

“There is no situation, Lieutenant.” You said sternly. “I’m serious. Watch your mouth on my ship or I’ll have you transferred to the docks.”

He looked up at you wide eyed, finally sensing your seriousness. The docks were career suicide for a space pilot. It was essentially being trapped on earth, unable to fly, unable to do anything but watch the stars pass overhead. Older generations likened it to to working the graveyard shift at an actual graveyard. “I’m sorry, Captain. Please, I’ll do anything.”

You sighed. “Just do your job, Song. Nothing more, nothing less. And if you ruin any more of my equipment trying to show off, I promise you, you’re gone.”

“Thank you, Captain.” For once it seemed he was sincere.

“You’re excused, Lieutenant.” You said looking back down at your paperwork. “I hope I won’t have to see you again soon.”

He stood from the chair and took a few steps towards the door, “What if I wanted to see you again, soon?”

You looked up from your work unsure you’d heard him correctly, “Excuse me?”

“Um. Weren’t you going to ask about my injury?” He asked innocently.

“Does this look like the infirmary to you, Song? Do I look like someone who deals with injuries?” You asked with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t know.” He pushed his hair back out of his face with his uninjured hand and smiled. An actual, genuine smile. Not something smug but something real. It took all you had not to audibly react to how handsome he truly was. He looked down at his toes, “I think the painkillers are setting in.”

“Go... rest then.” You said quietly forcing your eyes back down to your papers.

—

Almost a month had passed and you were pleased that Mino had stayed mostly off your radar. At least in the sense that he wasn’t being needlessly destructive to get your attention. He was only being needlessly obnoxious and constantly hovering around you. With his injured wing he was unable to fly which meant he had plenty of time to hang around your bridge. Which he did, everyday, under the guise of learning the navigation system.

“Captain,” the second officer said stepping up behind you as you sat reading your charts. “There’s an unidentified ship that's been circling our location slowly for the last hour. They're also getting closer with each rotation.”

“I’ve noticed them, barely. Their movements have been very subtle.” You noted, “Have you attempted contact?”

“Yes ma’am. They’re receiving our messages but are apparently refusing response.”

“You feel they’re a threat?” You asked watching the nervous body language of the officer.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, “I don’t like to make assumptions based off of such little information...but something feels wrong.”

“Captain.” Mino said suddenly at your side

“You’re on medical probation.” You didn’t even satiate him with a glance in his direction before shutting him down.

“I can do this.” He whined.

That made you turn to look at him, “There’s nothing to do yet. If you weren’t so trigger happy all the time maybe you could have avoided the injury you already have.”

“I got this from showing off, not from combat. And I’m basically healed already.” He argued slipping the sling he’d been wearing over the top of his head as if that meant he was suddenly cured.

“I said there’s nothing to do yet, Mino!” Instantly Mino raised an eyebrow at you. He knew he’d gotten to you or was at least getting close. The second officer eyed you suspiciously as well. “Lieutenant Song. Please, step back and await any further direction….from...somewhere else.”

“Yes, Captain.” He smiled to himself before taking several steps back, but still close enough to listen.

You moved to your chair and sat down, considering your options carefully. If the ship was friendly you didn’t want to come off as too aggressive. If it was unfriendly you didn’t want to make contact unprepared. You sighed, a sense of worry overwhelmed you. Your gut told you this wasn’t going to go well and that you should risk coming off as aggressive for the sake of your crews safety.

You requested that the second officer open a line of communication and turned to Mino with mild reluctance. “Will you please go down to the hanger and have six combat fighters prepared for flight on my order?”

“Depends on if I get to be in one of those fighters.” He said running his tongue over his lip, thirsty for the chance to be back in the air.

“Lieutenant… don't make me say medical probation again.”

He cleared his throat and looked away from you like a teenage girl having a tantrum. “Fine. I’ll get your fighters ready.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Song.” You said with a slight eye roll.

You waited for confirmation that your pilots were ready for flight before opening the line of communication. “This is the captain of the Galactic Guard’s fleet ship, the G.S.S. Mobb. Please identify yourself.”

Waiting for a response you turned to your safety officer and requested shields up.

“If you do not identify yourself appropriately we will have to assume that you are a hostile intruder of this quadrant and we will have to take action against you and your ship. Again, I request that you please identify yourself to avoid any unnecessary action be taken.”

Radio silence. The knot in your stomach grew tighter. It seemed silly to look out at a ship in the distance and assume intentions but you definitely felt threatened. Finally there was a return message. It was clear from the first few words that the female voice that came over your system was a robotic translation.

“This Uag’r Barlak. Leader of the Kronon star system. Your Galactic Guard has wrongfully taken control of a star system that does not belong to them. May your death and the destruction of your ship act as a message to your Guard that tyranny will not be tolerated by the Barlakian’s. We are the resistance.”

“Are the shields up?” You asked urgently.

“Yes, Captain!” a voice called from one of the controls officers.

“Send the fighters!” You ordered, and watched as the ship that had been circling you neared.

They immediately began shooting their distance cannons at your ship, and you could see almost two dozen combat fighters release from their hanger.

“Get me the flight deck.” You said nervously gripping the edge of the table you’d been standing over.

“This is the flight deck, Captain.” said a voice over the intercom.

“We need at least a dozen more fighters in the air, right now.” You paused, “Is this Lieutenant Kang?”

“Yes, ma’am. We have a dozen fighters preparing for flight. They should be up and out in less than thirty seconds.” He said knowing and quickly trying to avoid your next question.

“Where is Lieutenant Song?” The air went silent. You could almost feel the heat of your rage as your neck grew red with anger. “KANG!”

“He’s in the air, Captain.”

You took a deep breath and looked down at the table. It was a 4D gridded map of the space around you. Your ship, the Barlak ship, the fighters. You could see it all happening in front of you in real time. Your eyes passed over the combat happening outside your ship and you wondered passively which fighter was Songs.

“Lieutenant Kang.” You said after a deep, calming breath, “Stay alert and keep your line open for any further requests.”

“Yes, Captain, of course.”

You watched the battle rage on for nearly an hour. Mino was superb, as always, flying circles around enemy ships and taking them down. You had several other amazing pilots as well, taking out their small combat fighters and destroying the larger ship cannons. By your count however, you’d lost three of your own fighters. So far your biggest loss of this deployment. Your heart ached for your lost pilots but you didn’t have time to be sad about it.

“Shields?” You asked watching a fourth fighter narrowly miss a laser cannon shot. Instead your ships shields took the brunt.

“Seventy-five percent, Captain.”

“Admiral Yang has sent transmission, Captain. He wants to know if he needs to send additional assistance.” Your second asked hesitantly.

“We’ve got this.” You responded tight lipped. You hated that your admiral would undermine you like that.

You weren’t wrong. With one of your pilots taking out the enemy ships second to last outer cannon, they finally cut their losses and jumped into hyper speed, leaving three of their smaller fighters in the lurch.

“Kang, bring your fighters back in. Our outer cannons will take care of the stragglers.”

Several of your bridge crew high fived and cheered. You let out a long breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding onto. You received congratulations left and right, but there was something you had to do. You left the celebration of the bridge and made your way swiftly to the flight deck.

“Where’s Lieutenant Song?” You asked the second you reached the flight deck command center.

You observed several injured pilots of the ones that made it back to the ship. Several of your fighters looked nearly destroyed. You’d never seen your ship in such disarray. It should have bothered you more. It bothered you that it didn’t bother you. It bothered you that your sole concern was why you hadn’t seen Mino’s fighter in the hanger. Why he wasn’t limping around somewhere being showered in sympathy by his peers. Why he wasn’t annoying you for attention while you were trying to focus on the true issues at hand.

“Where is Lieutenant Song?” You asked again to someone else this time.

The crew member looked up from where he was collecting debris, “He went straight to the infirmary, Captain.”

“Thank you. Is everything under control down here? As well as it can be?”

“Yes ma’am.” The crew member nodded.

“Do you need anything from me?”

“No ma’am. We’re just fine.” He responded sincerely.

You nodded, your head somewhere else completely. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am.” He nodded and went back to his business.

Your hands shook nervously as you made your way to the infirmary. You’d been stopped several times and tried to remain as calm and collected as possible. Hoping that you didn’t seem too much as if you were desperately trying to be somewhere else. As expected after the attack the infirmary was chaos. As many injured pilots that you’d observed earlier, there were twice as many here with injuries much more severe and the damage to your own ship had left a few bruised and battered crew members needing attention. Even still it didn’t take you long to find Mino, you just searched for the one nurse who was blushing furiously and giggling like a middle schooler.

You snatched the curtain sectional and tugged it open. Mino was sitting up, shirtless, on a gurney. He was mostly bandaged already, a charming smile on his face. The nurse had been applying ointment to one nasty looking cut on his side.

“Captain.” He said snapping you from your obvious stare.

“Um.” Your eyes shifted from his smooth, muscular chest to his amused eyes. “I thought you’d look much worse.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’ll need to speak with you once your done here. About your disregard for direct orders.” You turned towards the nurse he’d been flirting with. “Are any of his injuries severe?”

“No ma’am.” She smiled something small, the way you were asserting your dominance and aggression was very clear to her. “He should be done here shortly.”

“Good.” You said and turned back to Mino who was biting his lip as he watched you. “My quarters then. As soon as your done here, Song.”

“Aye, aye.” He smiled cheekily. As you turned to leave, in his most suggestive tone yet he finished with, “Captain.”

You stopped for a beat, wanting to say something, took a deep breath and thought against it. You walked away without looking back. You weren’t sure what you were going to do once he met you in your quarters. You’d made the request too hastily. Your internal arguments began immediately. What you had wanted to do was kiss him, to finally wipe that perpetually smug smile off his face once and for all. You’d wanted to have your hands on him like that nurse did. Taking care of his wounds. Wounds he’d earned protecting your ship.

The thought made you stop in your tracks, in the hallway near the bridge. You reached out, clutching the wall for support. This was not going to be good, you’d let him get under your skin, every layer. He was too handsome. You’d been too lonely. You were letting your more primal desires take over from what you knew was your more evolved train of thought.

“Captain?” You looked up to see your second in command looking at you with concern and realized that you still had your hand pressed against the wall, and were panting deeply as if you’d been running.

“Yes?”

“Is everything okay? Do you need help?”

You straighten yourself and cleared your throat. “I’m fine. I…” You wanted to blame it on an anxiety attack, something generic. Stress from the battle, but something like that would only be seen as weakness. “I’m fine. Thank you for your concern. I’ll be in my quarters for the rest of the afternoon if you need me.”

“The ship is going to be fine, Captain. You made good calls today. Get some rest, you earned it.” He said patting your shoulder gently. “I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

You’d been in your quarters only a minute, it felt like. Only long enough to down an entire pitcher of water and let your hair down around your shoulders.  Still your mouth felt dry when the knock sounded on your door. You cursed under your breath and turned towards it, sitting on the edge of your desk as casually as possible.

“Come in.” You called.

“Captain, you wanted to see me?” Mino said stepping inside your office.

“Shut the door please, Lieutenant.”

You watched as Mino turned and closed the door. He looked back at you over his shoulder with a cocky smirk and your heart started racing immediately.

“Anything else, Captain?”

“Lock it, please. And you can wipe that smirk off your face while your at it.” You commanded. You would remain in control, at least that’s what you told yourself. Even if you didn’t quite believe it.

Mino did as he was told and then stood in the center of the room at attention. His hooded eyes watching you relentlessly. You wished he’d look somewhere else, your awards or your desk, the carpet, or just anywhere but your body. You already felt like your body was a flashing neon sign begging for him to take you. The way he stared, tongue rolling over his lip, only confirmed it.

You pushed yourself from your desk quietly and stepped towards him. He was still shirtless. Too bandaged on his one shoulder to have been able to slip back into his undershirt, so he had the arms of his flight suit tied around his waist to keep it from slipping all the way down. Although it was still low enough that you could see the start of his Adonis lines.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, sincerely, observing the cuts and clear bruising beginning on his skin. You stood face to face now. Too close.

He could not hid the shock on his face. Eyebrows raised and mouth drawn back in surprise. “I thought you didn’t care about-“

“Please, just answer my question.” You sighed, he exhausted you.

In every way shape and form Song Mino exhausted you. He chipped away at you. Like a fool, you’d believed, chipping at an iceberg with an ice pic. And yet somehow his persistence wasn’t as futile as you assumed it would be.

He turned his head just slightly. Your faces just inches from one another. You bit your lip as he swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn’t think he’d ever get here, but the air around the pair of you was thick, and he couldn’t help but believe you were waiting for him to kiss you. He wasn’t entirely wrong.  

“I’m going to be just fine, Captain. Don’t you worry about me.” He said quietly, softly.

You didn’t move, he assumed you wouldn’t, so he tilted his head even closer testing the waters. You kept your eyes on the wall opposite you, as his eyes trailed over your skin, “What you did out there was stupid, Song.”

“It’s not the stupidest thing I’ve done and I’m sure I’ll do worse in the future.” He whispered because his lips at this point were already so close to your ear he could practically taste you.

You gulped. “Thank you, for saving my ship.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He said, his breath hot against your skin. Your eyes were burning holes in the wall across from you. “Just tell me what you want me to do and consider it done.”

“I can’t.” Everything inside of you was conflicted and fighting. You wanted him so badly but you risked the job you’d worked so hard for.

“Can’t what? You can’t tell me? What if I guess then?” His lips brushed softly against your skin and you thought you might cry. “If I had to guess, I’d guess that you want me to…”

Your breathe grew heavy in your chest as he raised his hand to your collar, pushing your shirt to the side, exposing a patch of your skin. You inhaled deeply. His fingertips were rough on the skin but his palm rested gently on the top of your breast. It was a lot of physical attention you didn’t feel prepared for.

“Please, don't tease.” You begged quietly, the anticipation too much. His eyes trailed over your face, catching the pain in your gaze. The tremble of your lips. The unsteady way your breath caught in your chest. The heavy pounding of your heart under his palm.

“If I had to guess. I’d guess you want me to kiss you. Here.” He pressed his lips against your collarbone and instantly moaned at your scent. “Here.” He said kissing another patch of sensitive skin. “Here.” He said sucking the skin of your throat gently between his lips. “Here.” He pressed another kiss against your jaw just below your ear.

Your hands flew up from your sides wanting to touch him. To hold his broad, muscular shoulders. But you stopped yourself, palms hovering just over his arms. You whimpered, it physically hurt you how badly you wanted him. Mino showed no restraint. He wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you into his body.

A gasp escaped your lips. His mouth continued its attack on your neck and chest. It was as if he was eating up every gasp and whimper you released for him. His hand lowered from your waist to squeeze your ass. You could feel him growing hard between you two.

“Stop.” You whispered. His hand released you immediately. In the back of your chaotic mind you couldn’t help but think he wasn’t so terrible at following orders after all. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

His bottom lip rolled under his tongue as he eyed you hungrily, “You think you can’t...but, you do want to?”

“Shit.” You sighed. “Yes. Fuck. Yes, I want to. It doesn’t change anything. I can’t do this. It’s already gone too far.”

His finger trailed a line up your neck slowly, until he was cupping your head in his palm. “If you promise not to say anything, I promise not to say anything. We can do whatever we want, no one has to know.”

“That’s not how it works. If we were to get caught…”

“We won’t. I swear. No one will ever know. Can’t you keep a secret?”

You stepped back, the air becoming too thick in the room. You hit the back your legs on your desk and took a much needed seat.

“I can’t give you anything. I won’t. You wouldn’t get any special treatment. I’d still need you to behave, to listen. I can’t ever promote you. I wouldn’t-“

You didn’t even notice him move towards you. You just felt his lips on yours and felt your body sink into his hands, like ice melting in a fire. His tongue was soft and strong against yours. The hand on his bandaged arm held your head in place while the other found the waist of your pants. His long fingers slipped inside of the fabric and between your thighs easily. Your back arched from the touch and Mino let your body follow its desired movements. Still protecting your head he laid you down on the desk.

“I don’t want anything from you. Except this.” He whispered against your throat as you panted desperately beneath him. His fingers circled the moistening patch of cloth between your thighs. “This...is yours and yours alone to give. So I ask, may I have this?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

He didn’t waste any time finding his way underneath the thin fabric that kept him from you. His fingers pressed slowly and stiff inside you. Your eyes fluttered shut. You felt almost embarrassed that it had been so long since you’d been touched by someone else that the sensation could have made you cum then and there.

You realized that you still hadn’t touched him. All you’d wanted to do and your hands had never met his skin. You grabbed his hips, lifting yourself from the desk and moved your hands over his taught, warm skin, up his back where you could feel every muscle. As your brain began to make a list of things you wanted to do to him, you realized that it was too late now, and you might as well just do it. Hands on his shoulders you pulled him into you, latching your mouth onto his flesh. He was salty and soft on your tongue.

“Help me.” He groaned at the feeling of your mouth on him. “Help me get these pants off of you.”

You remembered his injury, and felt bad that you’d been too indulged in your own satisfaction to remember. He pulled away, removing his fingers from inside of you, his  hand from your pants. You watched, jaw dropped open, as he placed his glistening fingers on his tongue and then sucked them clean of you.

“Pants.” He grinned at your reaction to his lewd behavior.

“Oh, right.” You shook yourself out of your trance and slid off the desk.

You began to unbutton your pants and then looked over at him leaning against the desk now and changed your mind. Your hands grasped the knotted sleeves of his flight jumpsuit and started untying.

“Your pants, Captain.”

“No.” You shook your head, continuing on. “Yours first. You got to taste me. Now it’s my turn.”

“You don’t have to do that.” He said as you tugged his suit down so that he was standing in a pair of black boxer briefs. The outline of his erection clear as day. “I think you’re wet enough for the both of us.”

“Why do you always talk back?” You asked dropping to your knees before him. Hands on his thighs you leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his bulge.

He looked down at you in awe as you released him from his briefs. His mouth fell open as you looked up at him, taking him between your lips. You liked watching the way the muscles in his stomach clenched and released as you sucked him off,  teasing his tender tip with your tongue. It surprised you, pleasantly, when he started to whine.

You knew he was close when he finally begged, “Let me fuck you.”

“You don’t want me to finish?” You teased.

“Please, I need you.” He gasped with desperation. It hit you that he’d wanted you this whole time just as bad as you’d wanted him. He wasn’t just another flirty fuckboy, not entirely.

You stood up and slowly unbuttoned your blouse and then removed it, tossing the fabric onto the desk next to him. “How many people on this ship have you fucked, Lieutenant?”

He sucked in a hiss of air as you undid your bra and placed that next to him as well. “Not one. Why?”

“You expect me to believe that?” You asked, toying with the button on your pants.

“I’ve only been interested in one person since I got here.” He answered. “You can believe that or not.”

“Would that nurse you were flirting with say the same?” You unzipped your pants and he raised his eyebrow in surprise as you peeled them off your legs to see the quite sexy pair of panties you’d been hiding underneath your professional wardrobe.

“I’m usually not so attracted to jealousy, I’ll be honest, but the fact that you’re typically so confident...the change of pace is really doing something for me.”

You rolled your eyes, “Lay back.”

Again, and still slightly surprising to you, he did as he was told. You stepped towards him, your fingers dragged along his thighs, over his hips, his abs, his chest. You climbed onto the desk, straddling his lap. He bit his lip in anticipation of your next move. You rolled your hips gently, rubbing your wet sex against his hard cock. You giggled lightly as his mouth fell open at the sensation.

“Who's the tease now?” He asked, looking up at your smile.

Finally you lifted your hips, and moved him into position before sinking down on him. A moan instantly escaped your mouth as the stretch betrayed you. You’d wanted to take this slower, to be more meticulous with your movements but he felt too good to mess around. Not to mention his hands, gripping your hips, wouldn’t have let you relent even if you wanted to.

Months of pent up sexual aggression that you didn’t even realize had been building was released from you. You could have been on him all day, he felt so good. Your thighs tightened painfully from the workout.

“Fuck, y/n!” He gasped “I’m gonna...I’m cumming.”

Your eyes widened at the sound of your name on his lips. He’d only ever called you Captain before. One of your hands gripped down on his good shoulder. As you slipped the other between your legs, your fingertips finding your swollen clit.

“Oh god. Oh my god.” He panted, as you rode him clear out of his orgasm. The friction slowly becoming too much pleasure for him. He whined again from the agonizing pleasure of it. “Oh, y/n. My goddess.”

Sweat pearling off your chest, his last words brought you to your finish. You tightened and tugged around him. Your mouth had fallen open silently and you crumbled into his chest.

“That…” You panted heavily satisfied.

He waited to if you were going to finish your thought and then chuckled when you clearly weren’t. “Yeah, that.”

—

Months passed and everyday you didn’t get a message from the admiral that you’d been fired had been a day full of surprises. Mino was actually more discreet than you’d ever expected. He remained ever the menace, giving you endless opportunities to call him to your quarters for reprimanding. Which, it had turned out, Mino loved being reprimanded.

It seemed to be more difficult for you to keep your hands to yourself than it was for him. You just couldn’t help yourself, brushing your hand against his, a playful pinch of his butt when no one was looking just to see the tiny smile on his face as he tried not to laugh. Not being able to kiss him was the most agonizing, because he was better at kissing than he was at flying and he was a fantastic pilot.

You started to really love your intimate moments together. When you’d lay in your bed and he’d play with your hair, brushing it out of your face or off of your shoulder. Letting his hands through it, massaging your head as you rested on his chest.Typically pulled back into a tight bun he enjoyed the silky way your locks twisted around his fingers. You liked to kiss his scars, old and new and learn where each and everyone came from. You loved learning him.

He liked to make you laugh more than anything else. To see you smile was so rare on the ship and he liked to know that he was capable of prying smiles from you so easily. He liked all the things you did just for him and no one else. Mino was funny and he was sweet, he was more than you had ever possibly expected. You knew you were in love with him. You hoped he was in love with you too.

Life hadn't just been secret sex and private romance however. The Barlakian’s had attacked your ship three more times. Each time having learned a little more about your techniques. Each time getting a little more aggressive than the last. It was by far your biggest stressor. Mino was good for postcoital talk about fight plans. He had seen the Barlak ship up close, he knew its weak spots, and the way that their fighters maneuvered. He found them to be almost robotic, easier and easier to battle. But your concern wasn’t their small fighters it was their large cruiser. The one that was damaging your ship with every battle, the fighters were just a distraction.

Whenever he thought you were getting too stressed, too obsessed with the Barlak, Mino was very good at distracting you. There was something almost poetic about the way Mino went down on you. You were usually good about keeping quiet but when he was between your thighs you struggled to bite your tongue hard enough. Which was why he usually did it in your private shower.

It was just art in its purest, most raw form. Your thigh draped over his shoulder, his hands grasping your hips so tightly it felt like being strapped into a fighter harness. The glass of the shower was ice cold against your heated skin but the water felt like summer rain as it poured over the both of you.

Your thighs shook with your orgasm as you drank up the water that rained down on your mouth. When he finished Mino slipped up your body, pinning you against the glass of the shower. His lips captured yours roughly. Your arms slipped easily over his soaked shoulders. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

You could feel the walls around you shaking and you gasped, “How do you make the whole universe tremble too?”

He chuckled lightly, “That wasn’t me, baby. Thank you for the credit though.”

The walls shook around you once more, harder than before. You looked up at him, his hair dripping down into his face. He looked serious and you realized that what had started out as a sexual pin against the glass had become protective as the ship shook again. You found yourself squeezing his shoulders for support. Suddenly the alarms blasted through the intercom. The ship was under attack.

You sprinted breathlessly onto the bridge as the ship shook once more, your hair was still damp.

“Debrief.” You said as your second in command reached you.

“The Barlakian’s. It’s a new ship, it came in fast and close. They must have been tracking us to have known our exact coordinance like that. We’ve been hit a total of ten times. The first was before we could enable the shields. They took out one of our outer cannons. I requested ten fighters to discharge immediately, we’ve lost five. They’re prepping more as we speak. Shields are already at sixty-five. Captain, you have to decide now if we stay and fight or if we pull back.”

“There.” Mino said beside you. You hadn’t even seen him come in. You noticed his damp hair however, and wondered who else would notice that the two of you shared that in common. “This is the weakest spot in their ship. I’ll go out with a cannon shooter and blast it. I would bet my life it’ll take out their entire ship. We don’t have to run.”

“Cannon shooters aren’t as fast as your normal fighter.” You said eyeing the weak spot he’d pointed out.

“I know.”

“That’s suicide.” You barely whispered. He was right though, if he could hit the spot with enough power, it could destroy the whole thing.

“For a lesser pilot, maybe. Not for me.” He said confidently. “I can do this. All you need to do is make sure our ship is out of the blast radius.”

“Captain?” You second said awaiting your decision. “We need an answer, now.”

You sighed heavily. “Call down to the fight deck and have them ready a cannon shooter for Lieutenant Song.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He answered before turning away.

“Mino.” You said quietly, brushing your fingers on his wrist.

“That’s lieutenant to you, Captain.” He said pointedly.

“Lieutenant Song.” You said eyeing the chaotic crew that swarmed around you, everyone was genuinely too busy to pay much attention to the pair of you. “Come back...safely.”

“Give me twenty minutes. I’m just going to go out and save the galaxy.” He smiled warmly, “When I get back we can finish that meeting we were having earlier.”

“Mino,” You said again, trying to get him to understand your sincerity, “please. I need you to come back.”

“If you’re not careful Captain, people are going to start thinking you have feelings for me.”

“People wouldn’t be wrong.” You responded, “Just come back. Okay? That’s all. Don’t do anything stupid. If it gets sketchy…”

“I will come back to this ship. You couldn’t keep me away.” He said, finally with the genuine understanding that you had needed from him.

You nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “You're needed in the hanger. Safe flight, Lieutenant.”

Your eyes burned as you watched him go, but this was neither the time nor the place to let your emotions get the best of you. Taking a deep breath you turned back to your crew and exhaled. Quickly you found your focus, directing the crew to where they needed to be and to be doing the things that needed to be done. First task was to get your ship moved out of the blast radius.

As that was occuring, in collaboration with the flight deck, you made orders for the faster combat fighters to assemble together on the opposite side of enemy ship as the weak spot that Mino would be tending to. Remembering the strategic flaws Mino had told you about the Barlakian’s before, you knew that they would focus on the larger group, not a single cannon ship. Just because they were on a new ship didn’t mean they’d changed their strategy.

Watching your map you were pleased to see how correct you were. Much of the fire power from the ship and the Barlak combat fighters converged on where your smaller fighters had been assembled. Meanwhile you watched as the cannon shooter made its way around the back end, essentially undetected. There was a mild sense of relief that coursed through you but also knew this was far from over and Mino was far from safely back to you.

You could hear the conversation between your second in command and Kang in the flight deck confirming that the ship was a safe distance from the blast zone. You knew that meant that Mino was ready to take his shot. Your second confirmed that the ships shields could withstand a blast and you verified that Mino was cleared to take the shot.

Everything that happened next felt like an out of body experience. As if you were standing just over your own shoulder watching yourself looking down at the map. Watching Mino’s cannon take several shots towards the enemy ship. Looking up out of your bridge window to see the Barlak ship collapsing on itself. Looking back down at the map, to see if the cannon shooter had made its way out of the blast zone as well, just to see that the map had been taken out momentarily and you had no visuals.

A celebration of joy and relief bloomed throughout the ship as you made your way from the bridge to the flight deck. You felt uplifted and in good spirits enough, knowing that the operation had been successful. There was just one last thing you needed to be complete on board with everyone else.

“Captain.” One of the officers said with a small salute as you entered the flight deck. The rest of the crew turned and did the same.

“At ease.” You grinned, “Are all my pilots back?”

“Almost ma’am.” Lieutenant Kang responded. “Just waiting on, Song. We’d lost his shooter for a minute after the blast, but we just found him a second ago. Waiting on contact with him now.”

“Good.” You nodded checking the blip on the radar, he was close. “Very good.”

There was a hint of static on the radio and then a sound that eased you completely. “G.S.S. Mobb flight deck. This is Lieutenant Song. Can you hear me?”

“This is flight deck, we can hear you now pilot.” Kang responded.

“Good. Is the Captain present?” Mino asked knowingly.

“The Captain is present on deck.”

“Excellent. If you could just let her know that her star pilot is heading back home safely, I would appreciate it. She wasn’t getting rid of me that easily.”

You rolled your eyes and the crew chuckled, used to his cockiness and playful banter they didn’t suspect any deeper meaning from his comment. You watched as the cannon shooter entered the hanger, only slightly worse for the wear. He landed easy and hopped out of the cockpit happily.

The feeling of relief, of knowing he was actually safe, had just barely draped over your body when you saw the rogue enemy fighter heading straight toward the hanger.

“Intruder! Blast it!” You shouted out.

It was just a second too late. The fighter got off one shot with its small cannon before your ships guns took it out. You watched, in painfully slow motion, as the blaster hit Mino’s shooter. Your eyes grew wide as the metal began to tear apart from itself, exploding. Mino, after realizing what happened, tried to duck out of the way and avoid the blast. He was just too close and it was just too late. You were running from the flight deck down to the hanger as soon as his feet were torn from the ground from the blast.

“MINO!” His name tore from your throat in a blood curdling shriek.

Your feet hit the concourse faster than anyone could comprehend, headed down the hanger. Several crew members were working towards putting out the fire from the explosion, others were quickly gathered around Mino.

“Get out of my way! Everyone move!” You yelled kneeling next to him. “Baby…”

He winced from the pain, but a smile still crept on his face, “Captain...that’s a bit bold.”

“Oh shut up, Mino.” You gasped lightly at the sight. A shard of metal debris was lodged in his neck, blood oozed from the wound slowly. You wanted nothing more than to remove it but you knew it would only do more damage. You looked up at the crowd of people that had gathered. Most shocked by the scene, some muttering about the way you squeezed his hand in yours. “Someone get a doctor! Immediately!”

“They’re on the way, Captain.” One of the crew said calmly.

“Okay…” you leaned closer to him, kissing his forehead. “Help is on the way. It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna stay right here. You’re gonna be fine.”

“So it’s worse than it feels?” He asked lightly.

“It’s...not bad.” You lied.

“Your face is even less convincing than your words if you can imagine.” He joked.

“I know.” You whimpered.

“Don’t cry.” He said furrowing his brow in pain.

“I’m not.” You said shaking your head defiantly.

“You are.”

You lifted your hand to your cheek and wiped away the wetness you didn’t realize was there. “Mino...I have to tell you something, just in case. You have to know.”

“I love you too.” He whispered, stealing your thunder, but you didn’t care.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and couldn’t stop it as you sobbed freely. “In all the galaxies... in every universe, it was you that was made perfectly for me.”

He let out a laugh, that turned into a cough. You noticed the blood on his teeth before he recognized the taste of copper on his tongue.

“You’re really giving us away, Captain.” He groaned form the pain, “We’re definitely getting sent to the docks now.”

“Good.” You sniffed, “I don’t care where they send us, as long as we get to go together. Do you understand me? We go together, Song.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave you a blood red grin as the medics finally arrived. You moved away on your own accord, wanting them to get him the help he needed as fast as possible. Otherwise you knew they would have had to peel you away from him.

You watched what you could. They fitted a blood transfusion pack, and placed a packing gel around the wound to stop the bleeding. You wanted to complain about their lack of tact as the put him on the transport. He gritted his teeth with the pain, knowing you were there. Not wanting you to think the worst of it. Although you already were.

—-

Later, while you waited for the surgeons update you’d heard whispers from the infirmary about his injury. The debri in his neck from blast has just barely missed his main artery. Any closer and he would have been dead before even you’d reached him. It only made your chest heavier.

You knew by now that word of your actions towards Mino in the hanger, that your relationship, was well known throughout the ship. Nurses eyed you as they spoke quietly. Other patients in the infirmary kept eyes on you too. You realized in that moment, maybe for the first time, how much you didn’t care. What happened next in your career was the least of your concerns. The only thing that mattered now was that Mino survived. That he recovered. That he would be there for you to love.

Once the surgery was over it had been hours later. The infirmary was almost completely cleared when the surgeon came to tell you about the success of the operation and that Mino was resting. They tried to tell you that you couldn’t see him, until you reminded them that this was your ship. You sat beside his bed in a chair, watching the rise and fall of his chest, grateful for it every time. As the early morning hours of the next day arrived and still he slept you rested your head on the bed next to him and closed your eyes for a bit.

As you started to wake up you’d forgotten where you were. Eyes still closed all your brain was willing to comprehend was that the air around you smelled of him and that his hand was playing with your hair like he usually did when you’d lay in bed together. It was the excruciating cramp in your lower back that reminded you that you had been slumped over in a chair.

“Mino.” You bolted up straight and looked over at him. He was smiling at you, still sleepily. He pressed his fingers against the bandage on his throat as if to indicate he couldn’t speak. You had to take the opportunity to joke, “Finally, a moment of peace with you.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Does it feel terrible?” You asked softly. He shook his head no.

“Are you lying?” He nodded.

You grabbed his hand in yours and kissed his knuckles. “But you’ll live.”

He moved his body, making space on the bed for you and patted the mattress.

“You know I can’t.” You said biting your lip, so tempted. “It would be unprofessional.”

He gave you a look that could only have been described with the phrase, Oh please.

“You’re right. We’re already going to be dishonorably discharged.” He grinned and you slipped onto the bed next to him.

Tucking into his side you sighed deeply with content. He wrapped one arm around you, his hand at the small of your back while the other hand went back to your hair. He kissed the top of your head several times before he really settled down.

You closed your eyes but a request remained at the edge of your lips. “Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again.”

You could feel the chuckle in his chest. And then, just a very hoarse whisper, “Okay.”

—-

You walked into the bedroom to see Mino finishing up putting on his dress uniform. His hair was slicked back, and his jaw was sharp. You could see the pink of his fresh scar dipping under his collar. It ended up being nearly six inches in length from behind his ear to the front of his throat. It didn’t matter, he was still the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You sighed, quite wantonly, and Mino turned towards you with a smirk.

“What?” He asked as you stepped towards him. Sliding your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

“Nothing. You’re just so handsome.” You whispered pressing your soft lips against his soft scar over and over from end to end.

“You look sexy.” He grinned squeezing your butt playfully. “In your itchy wool captains skirt...I can’t wait for you to put on your little hat over that fierce, tight bun.”

You groaned, pulling out of the hug. “Don’t get used to it. I’ll only have this job for about another hour, then it’s only civilian clothes for me.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Lucky for me you look pretty sexy in those too.”

“Maybe it would better if we both just got sent to the docks.” You said with a slight pout.

“Why?” He scoffed, “I can think of nothing you would hate more. You’re a leader, not a nothing.”

“I wouldn’t have to worry about you getting hurt at the docks.”

He smiled, loving how incredibly soft your love for him made you. It was like a drug for his ego that you only ever showed that affection to him. He kissed your forehead swiftly. “You know you’ll have to worry about me wherever I end up.”

You groaned once more, this time in realization that he was right, and rested your exhausted head on his shoulder. Why your heart chose him you’d never know for sure. All you knew was that somehow, even though his olive suit was an itchy, warm wool, and his chest was hard with muscle, you were still more comfortable in his arms in that moment than anywhere else you could think of being.

__

During Mino’s pinning and recognition of service ceremony you sat nervously on the stage between several of your admirals. Your direct leader had eyed you several times and only spoke to you once before it began to remind you of the meeting that would be held in his office following the ceremony.

Despite your nerves you’d been proud of Mino. The crowd was huge. Usually for these types of events it was a few higher ups and some fellow Guard members. However Minos story of bravery had spread like wildfire and he had become a bit of an intergalactic hero. As many civilians as could be accommodated were in attendance and you had heard that there were thousands more outside the event, just wanting to give him thanks with their presence.

He looked good, standing tall as he received his Heroism in Combat, Crimson Heart for being wounded during intergalactic combat, and finally his Excellency in the Sky, for being a superior pilot, pins. He told you before the ceremony that he’d wished it was you pinning him, at first he said it as a sexual joke but then again later and more genuinely. Although both of you knew it would never be allowed. Instead it was one of your peers, and one of Mino’s old Captains. He kept his eyes on you the whole time, and you fought a blush every second of it.

After the ceremony you and Mino took your time getting to the admirals office. You had said you wanted to be prompt but Mino had other plans. He squeezed your hand in his as he dragged you around to a few pilot friends that had been placed on other ships. He showed you off more than his newly acquired military pins and it made you blush furiously with every new introduction.

He made you feel drunk off your love for him so much that the two of you stumbled into the officers building. You even felt giggly as he kissed your neck in the elevator. It wasn’t until you reached the Admirals door that your stomach flipped.

Mino could see the change in your demeanor and it made him frown. “You were so happy.”

“I am still happy.” You said faking a smile.

“It’s going to be fine. You and me...were going to be fine.” He promised.

“I know.” You sighed, still with a slight disbelief. You fixed the collar of his jacket, straightened his newly acquired pins, and adjusted his hat so that it sat properly on his head.

“Feel better?” He asked with a grin as you dropped your hands back down to your sides, knowing your need for control was a comfort.

“Kiss me please?” You asked holding back anxious tears.

“Always.” He said pressing his lips to yours. The stress you’d felt oozed off your shoulders and down to the floor. As long as this stayed the same, Mino was right, you’d be just fine.

The air in the office was thick and uncomfortable. Mino and you sat in chairs across from the admiral. His, surprisingly, cluttered desk the only thing between you and his disapproving glare. Mino had grabbed your hand before walking into the line of fire and hadn’t let it go since. You weren’t sure if the admiral was waiting on one of you to speak first as a power move, but you were both waiting for him.

With an almost unprofessional huff, the admiral began, “Obviously you two are here to discuss discharge procedures for having a prohibited relationship between a superior and a subordinate and then not disclosing the relationship once it began.”

“I’m going to stop you there, Admiral.” Mino said with an air about him that told you he’d had this conversation planned in his head already. “That’s just not going to be happening. Neither of us will be dismissed from the Guard today.”

“Song, I’m sorry son, but you’re not the one who dictates how things work in here. That’s my job.”

“I beg your pardon admiral, but...I’m an intergalactic hero. You saw the crowd out there today, right? How bad would the Guard's publicity be if they reprimanded an actual hero.”

“Are you threatening me, Song? Are you threatening the Guard, because you’re going to want to think about that.” The admiral said, growing red under his collar.

You bit your lip in amusement. Now you knew why everyone who didn’t have to deal with insubordinate Mino, could love him so much. It was too funny when it wasn’t you.

“That’s not a threat, Sir. That’s just a fact.” He said calmly crossing one leg over the other, his fingers tightening around yours. “If you don’t give me what I want, it’s going to backfire. I mean, I don’t care either way what happens, but I’m the face of the Guard now. Do you think the people are going to want to see the face of their Guard down on the docks, kicking rocks?”

“Fine.” The admiral said tight lipped, “You’ll remain a pilot, Lieutenant Song. Congratulations.”

“Commander.” He corrected. You raised your eyebrows as you stared down at the floor. He was pushing it, but his face was straight and he wasn’t done yet.

The admiral inhaled deeply, infused with rage. “Anything else, Commander.”

“Just one thing. I only fly under one Captain.”

You’re eyes shot up at that. He was smiling smugly at the admiral. You didn’t even want to look over at the desk for fear of the rage monster you would witness.

“That I cannot do. Your Captain broke rules. She exhibited a relationship with a subordinate. She took advantage of her position. She compromised the integrity of the Guard and of her ship. She will be demoted from Captain and removed from the G.S.S Mobb immediately.” The admiral looked coldly at your hand clasped in Minos. You thought to remove it but his fingers tightened around yours. “Maybe we can find your captain a nice desk job, something more suitable for a lady. Since this position seems to have been a bit too overwhelming.”

“You’re not listening, Admiral.” Mino said sharply, obviously angered. “I will fly only under this captain. If you don’t allow that then you’ll lose your best and now most highly decorated pilot, and the face of the Guard. Not to mention, the recording I now have of this conversation and of you expressing blatant, and quite honestly archaic sexism towards a fellow officer will find itself….everywhere.”

You tried not to look at him too suspiciously, but something told you that his comment about having the conversation recorded was a bluff. It was apparently not a risk the admiral was willing to take, however. By the end of the meeting Mino was a commander, and you had your ship back with a new title as well.

—

Three months passed before you stood on your bridge once more. It was still a few days before take off but you wanted to do a walkthrough of the ship while it was still moderately empty. The repairs, modifications and updates made since the last flight made your heart swell. Your ship, she was a true beauty. The best in the fleet.

Your vacation had been filled with beaches and camping. Sunrises and sunsets. All the earth things you’d been missing out on in space. But it felt good to have your fingers on the controls again. Passing gently over the navigation system. Standing in front of your panoramic shield window you imagined how the stars and planets were going to look up close once more.

“General.”

You turned from the window to see Mino. You could tell he'd been watching you and it made you blush in a way that only he could.

“Commander.” You nodded, “How does my flight deck look?”

“Crisp.” He grinned, “Beautiful. The new fighters are…”

“Do you need a minute alone? A cold shower, maybe?” You smirked.

“Hah. Hah. I saw you fingering that new Navi system, you pervert.” You laughed as he wrapped his arms around you. “Welcome home, baby.”

“Thank you.” You said kissing him. He raised an eyebrow nonchalantly as if everything he’d done was no big deal. So you grabbed his chin pointedly, “Thank you...for making sure I got my ship back.”

“Yeah well...it was mostly selfish. I love a having a strong woman in charge of me.”

“Oh, I know that.” It was your turn to be smug and you loved it.

“Are you ready for this?” He asked genuinely, “You won’t be able to escape me once this ship is in the air.”

“What do you think escape pods are for?” You asked deadpan.

“You’re so funny.” He said flatly.

You sighed and turned around in his arms to look out at the view earth provided you with, and the to the sky, knowing that it expanded so much further than your eyes could ever possibly see. “I get to explore the actual universe with my own personal universe at my side. I’m more than ready for this.”

[corellian-smuggler]

THE LAST JEDI SPOILERS REACTION - SPOILERS BELOW

So as you may know, I made the enormous mistake of seeing The Last Jedi in theaters Thursday night. I don’t know what on earth I was thinking, because TFA left me angry and upset and all of the promo leading up to this film was horrific. But I reasoned that I would need to at least be informed--being on tumblr with everyone inevitably arguing about it and without having seen the film would have been miserable. I also wanted to see the movie without spoilers so that my opinions wouldn’t be influenced prior to viewing. But also, despite having very low expectations, I couldn’t help but have just the TINIEST hope that maybe it wouldn’t be quite as bad as I was anticipating? Maybe at least I would be able to enjoy the storylines of Rey, Finn, and Poe? Maybe Luke’s role wouldn’t be THAT bad? And of course, I wanted to see Carrie Fisher in her final film.

As a result, I found myself in the theater with my twin brother, reasonably pessimistic but just the tiniest bit--despite myself--hopeful.

I have never suffered so much during a film in my entire life. There were multiple moments that made me consider getting up and walking out.

If you don’t want spoilers, DO NOT CONTINUE READING, because I am about to detail exactly why I was so upset.

1. The blatant assassination of Luke Skywalker’s character. Yes, he dies at the end of the film, but they killed him long before that. I don’t know who I was supposed to be seeing onscreen, but it was NOT Luke Skywalker. I’m starting with this because it was, in my opinion, the biggest, and most inexcusable transgression made by Rian Johnson (though don’t worry, there are multiple very close runners-up!). I started crying because of what was happening in front of me. First of all, the fact that Luke’s “first instinct” upon sensing the conflict in his nephew was evidently to ignite his lightsaber to kill him is without fail the most disgusting obliteration of a character I’ve ever witnessed. Who wrote this script??? Did they just not ever watch the original trilogy? The entire point of Luke’s character was his REFUSAL TO GIVE UP ON PEOPLE, and his UNWAVERING DEDICATION TO HIS FAMILY, and his INSISTENCE that his father could be saved. Did they miss the fact that even though Vader had ALREADY murdered countless innocent people and served the Emperor and aided in the establishment of a tyrannical, oppressive fascist regime, Luke’s IMMEDIATE reaction was “I won’t fight him, he’s my father, I have to save him.” Did they miss the part where Luke chose to THROW AWAY HIS LIGHTSABER rather than give in to fear and hatred and violence, even if it meant his father killing him? Even if it meant the rebellion’s demise? Did they miss the part where Luke’s FAITH--in humanity, in his family, in the Jedi and the Light Side of the Force--IS THE ENTIRE PURPOSE OF HIS CHARACTER?? THE ENTIRE PURPOSE OF STAR WARS?? THE ENTIRE POINT OF THE ORIGINAL TRILOGY?!?! THE TRIUMPH OF FAITH, WITH LUKE BEING THE VERY EMBODIMENT OF IT????? And for some reason I’m suppose to sit there and believe that Luke’s first impulse in sensing the “conflict” in Ben--his own nephew, who hadn’t even done anything bad yet--was to KILL HIM??? To kill HAN AND LEIA’S CHILD?!?!?!?! What the ever loving FUCK kind of travesty is that? Character assassination doesn’t even seem an adequate term for what this is.

And that’s just ONE PART OF IT. There’s also the fact that his nephew and Snoke are running around DESTROYING THE GALAXY and BLOWING UP PLANETS and Luke is THE ONLY PERSON IN THE GALAXY WHO CAN DEFEAT THEM, and he DOESN’T CARE. Rey literally shows up and tells him that Leia is begging for his help, that there are two powerful Dark Side Force wielders that they’re powerless to fight, and that Han is DEAD. And Luke doesn’t fucking care. Sorry, but a Luke Skywalker who doesn’t race off to help his loved ones is not Luke Skywalker at all. Once again, this is 100% entirely and completely incompatible with all three films of the OT. Add to that the fact that Luke spends the entire first 2/3 of the film bitterly sneering at himself--about how stupid he was, mocking the very notion of Luke Skywalker as a hero, shitting all over the Jedi, calling himself a vain, ignorant failure... It honestly felt like a personal attack. It was literally the way that angry, dangerous male Star Wars fans who insist that the rebels were terrorists and glorify the Empire and say that the Jedi were no better than the Sith talk about Luke: with spite and disdain and cruelly irreverent, angry scorn designed to cow and hurt the people who think of Luke and the rebels as heroes. Except it wasn’t some reddit post. It was happening onscreen and coming out of Luke’s own mouth.

I honestly, truly do not understand how any fan of the original trilogy could ever think that Luke Skywalker would be tempted to murder his nephew, or turn his back on the Jedi, or be unwilling to go to Leia after learning Han is DEAD, or just not care about the fact that without his intervention, billions of people would die or be enslaved. I was literally crying tears of fury and horror and disbelief and grief. And then, what? He has 5 seconds of remorse and uses the Force to project himself across the galaxy to buy time for the resistance, and then he just? Dies? 

What the fuck was the point of having him be in the movies, then? What was the point of including him in the films if all that they wanted him for was to destroy his legacy, make him out to be a coward, rip every single thing that was ever true about Luke Skywalker to shreds, and then give him a quick “redemption” and kill him off like he was nothing? He just fucking dies off on that island after years of hiding from his problems, and even at the very end insisting to Leia that he won’t try to save Ben, that he’s not a hero, that he’s nothing? I am just, so angry that my anger is the only thing standing between me and utter devastation. I literally watched Rian Johnson murder Luke Skywalker and piss on his grave. He did everything in his power to kill any notions that anyone had of Luke Skywalker as the hero he is.

2. Kylo Ren apologism. This was easily the second biggest thing I had a problem with. First and foremost, the fact that they had the AUDACITY to write off his fall to the Dark Side on LUKE SKYWALKER OF ALL PEOPLE. They were so desperate to make him “sympathetic” and “relatable”--and to contrive some bullshit reason for Luke to be in exile--that they decided to make LUKE be at fault?!?! It wasn’t enough that they had to imply in interviews that Han and Leia were “neglectful,” now they also have to tell us that Luke was trying to murder him? First of all, that still doesn’t excuse mass murder, let’s just be clear on that. NOTHING they could have written would have been a valid excuse for what Kylo Ren has done. Nothing would make it “ok” or understandable. 

So once again, the writers have gone out of their way to make one of the OT heroes look like a piece of shit for the sake of the new characters, no matter what a disservice it is to the original trilogy, to the fans who love it, and to the characters who MAKE Star Wars STAR WARS. I literally wish I could look Kathleen Kennedy and Rian Johnson in the eyes and demand that they try to explain themselves. I wish I could look them in the eyes and ask how they could have EVER thought it was acceptable to suggest that Luke “failed” his nephew, that he tried to kill him. I want to ask them to explain to Star Wars fans why they thought it was ok to sacrifice Luke Skywalker to the Kylo Ren storyline--to destroy Luke to create that monster.

And that’s not even speaking of the fact that they are literally asking the audience to sympathize with a fascist murderer. Half of the movie was trying to get viewers to “rethink” what they thought they knew about Kylo Ren, to see that it wasn’t his fault, that it was awful LUKE who tried to kill him, and what would we have done? Kylo Ren aids in blowing up billions of innocent people. He orders the death of a whole village of innocent people. He serves the supreme overlord of a paramilitary organization bent on conquering and enslaving the galaxy. He might not be officially Sith, but he IS the Dark Side, which is, in case the writers forgot, a PERVERSION of the Force and pure EVIL. How DARE Rian Johnson, in a reality where we turn on the news daily to find school shooters (which Kylo Ren has done), terrorist attacks (which Kylo Ren has participated in), rapists (which Kylo Ren has symbolically done), racists (Kylo Ren aids a racist military regime), and entitled, wrathful white pissbabies (which Kylo Ren is), and ask us to SYMPATHIZE with the embodiment of ALL of those things??? How can he dare expect us to have empathy for this man? And at the expense of LUKE SKYWALKER? 

And then there’s the fact that not once, but TWICE Kylo Ren is referred to as “just a boy,” first by Snoke and then by Luke. Funny, Kylo Ren was a grown man when he destroyed the Jedi Order, when last I checked. But please, tell me again how he’s only a CHILD, just like society does every time any twenty/thirty-something white man rapes/kills/shoots people. Snoke also says that Kylo Ren has “too much of Han Solo’s heart” in him. Now, granted this is coming from Snoke, so it was most likely just to manipulate and torment Kylo Ren, but nevertheless, as it was consistent with the near constant theme of infantilizing and humanizing Kylo Ren, it ENRAGED ME. Kylo Ren has not one single SLIVER of Han Solo’s heart in him. If he did, he would never have joined the Dark Side, or the remnants of the Empire. He would never have murdered countless people in cold blood. He would never have participated in a genocide. He would never have tortured innocent civilians. He would never have KILLED HIS FATHER or have ordered his army to KILL HIS MOTHER. Kylo Ren is NOTHING like Han Solo.

The forced romance with Rey and Kylo was absurd. First of all, I swear to you there are countless shitty fanfics that did this exact same fucking premise of the Force connection--right down to the lack of clothes--so literally we were fed bad fanfiction. Kylo Ren tortured Rey, killed her mentor before her eyes, mortally wounded her only friend, terrified her, invaded her mind while taunting her that he could take whatever he wanted and could invade all her private thoughts and feelings in a scene heavily coded as a metaphorical rape, and almost killed her in the last film. And yet, we’re supposed to believe that because, oh, that’s right, LUKE APPARENTLY TRIED TO KILL KYLO REN, that just excuses all those things Ren did to her and now she has romantic feelings for him? Someone please call up all the women in the world who have been beaten or raped and tell them about something traumatic that had happened in their abuser’s past; they’ll be sure to have romantic feelings for them then!!!! The scene where he had his shirt off?! As though he’s some desirable heartthrob eye candy, and not a WHINY, ENTITLED FASCIST DARK SIDE MURDERER and the VILLAIN of the franchise???? It was sickening.

And yet, I’m not even sure what any of it was trying to accomplish? They went through all that trouble to woobify him and make him “sympathetic” (*derisive snort*), but then he still ended up succeeding Snoke as the new Emperor 2.0 and establishing himself as DECIDEDLY evil, even heartlessly ordering the death of his own mother, and Luke AND LEIA now both said that he can’t be redeemed. So what was the point of all that woobification??? Because now rey will try to redeem him in IX? Yeah, hard pass on that, thanks.

Someone please explain to me why they are literally plot point for plot point giving Rey Luke’s exact story, but also at the same time ripping that story away from Luke as though he hadn’t already done it all before? 

3. Rey as a result was entirely unlikable in the film. I went from enjoying her character in the last movie despite all the film’s flaws and the fact that they destroyed Han, Luke, and Leia for her sake, to simply hating her. She came across as ridiculously stupid--walking straight back into the custody of the First Order mere days after having escaped, because now she’s in love with the man who violated and tortured her and killed her father figure and blew up multiple planets? Wtf? And not only that, but what had been a feminist achievement--a female protagonist of a Star Wars film--was turned into a young woman “understanding” the pain of a fascist murderer and “fixing him” with her love. But failing? So again..... what was the point? To make Rey look stupid? Well, they succeeded. It basically just felt like Rian Johnson getting away with putting his own weird sexual fantasies onscreen as much as he could get away with.

4. Finn and Rose were entirely irrelevant. Finn was BLATANTLY demoted from co-protagonist to supporting role, and his side-plot with Rose was so sloppily done that it was obvious his character was an afterthought at best. But we know why that is (racism. It’s because racism). Their little side-trip to casino planet was visually incompatible with the rest of the Star Wars films, rushed, poorly executed, and, above all else, entirely pointless. They accomplished literally nothing and would have died had it not been for Whatsherface Holdo. And that kiss at the end was so out of nowhere that I was literally in disbelief. They’d literally only known each other for a few hours, and yet somehow we’re already having talk of “saving what we love” and kissing???? It was so uncomfortable and fell so flat and was so obviously only included to shove Finn out of the way so that Rey could want Kylo Ren and try to soothe his Man PainTM. Because, once again, racism. Finn’s entire sequence of waking up, by the way, serving as cheap, demeaning comedy at his expense, was weird and unnecessary. Someone please explain to me why they needed to have him walk around base naked and squirting water all over the place? What even was that? Another moment that didn’t feel like it belonged in a Star Wars movie. Oh, and his being framed once again as a traitor and a deserter for trying to get off the ship in the escape pod. Uh, hey so, pretty sure Finn isn’t ENLISTED and therefore he wasn’t DESERTING, first of all, and second of all, pretty sick of this trend of making the heroes look like cowards while trying to make the villains look like victims.

5. Just general bad writing, mischaracterization and sloppy work. Literally nothing happened for the whole movie. The resistance ran away from the First Order for like two hours of screen time while Luke milked alien animal titty and sneered at Rey and refused to help his sister. Then the resistance almost escaped but didn’t and had to keep running away. Then the resistance almost escaped again but didn’t and had to keep running away again. And then they again were almost safe but weren’t, and finally had to run away for good. It was so underwhelming that I literally couldn’t even believe it was approved. Who signed off on this? The whole thing was just a ship running away from another ship with lots of mentions of “almost out of fuel!!!!” and then getting in a different ship to keep fleeing. 

Also, Leia did literally NOTHING in the whole movie except almost die, slap Poe in the face, stun Poe, and look sad. So? K cool. Also they made it a point to say that they were broadcasting a distress call with Princess Leia’s personal code “because people believe in Leia,” but then they said the distress call was received and ignored by their allies. Indicating that no one actually believes in or cares enough about Princess fucking Leia to go to her aid. Because they just really had to drive in the knife that the OT characters are irrelevant and sad distortions of what they once were. Oh, and as a result evidently the First Order was able to blow up multiple planets and no one else in the galaxy tried to stand up and stop them from trying to take power?

Poe for some reason was characterized as this trigger happy, impulsive, irresponsible hothead who blundered around a lot and almost got the resistance destroyed multiple times and then this was never resolved. He just kept blundering until the end when Rey lifted the boulders for their escape. So, AGAIN, making the heroes look bad for no reason.

That Holdo character was so dumb I don’t even understand????? Why couldn’t she just tell the resistance what the plan was???? Literally they were all on a ship running out of fuel and thinking she was planning to just keep running til they ran out of gas and all got blown up. That entire nonsense situation wouldn’t have happened if she had just told the people whose lives were in her hands that she wasn’t just giving them up for dead. And if she was planning to die herself anyways, why didn’t she lightspeed at the First Order sooner? And how did a collision at light speed not obliterate the entire ship? How the hell did Finn and Rose walk away from that? So sloppy, so many plot holes there.

All that build-up to Snoke and he was irrelevant and now dead. They literally just presented us with the half-baked Emperor rip-off and then said “nah JK” and disposed of him. He was entirely pointless. Why not just start off the trilogy with Kylo Ren as the Supreme Leader, then, for all the effect that Snoke had (none) on the story?

Rey went “straight to the Dark Side” while meditating and was sneaking around with Kylo Ren and Luke didn’t trust her motivations at all, but then Yoda just appears and says that Rey already knows everything she needs to know about being a Jedi without Luke needing to teach her (um, what? how? Two days prior she didn’t even know what the Force even was?) and then that’s just magically resolved and she’s just now somehow all good to take up the mantle of the last jedi in the galaxy? Despite her overt foray into the Dark Side, which was seemingly without remorse? Despite the fact that she legit didn’t have a single second of training other than Luke telling her “the Force binds all living things and the Jedi shouldn’t have fucked with it”? Also, how could she do a Jedi mind trick without trying? How could she levitate stones without training? How could she best Luke with no training? Entirely inconsistent with the previous two trilogies, as was every word that came out of Yoda’s and Luke’s mouths. And then Snoke calling her a Jedi? SHE WASN’T A JEDI!!!! 

Leia saying “I changed my hair” as her first words to Luke? What the hell was that? I understand that it was a nod at what Han said to her in VII, but it was out of place and wrong. She should have run to him and hugged, like she did every single other time they reunited in the OT. 

The whole thing about Luke’s death being at peace seemed like they needed Rey and Leia to explain it to the audience, because otherwise no one would get it because it made no sense. Also the way they lowkey implied that Luke had finally gotten “purpose” with his death, as if he hadn’t already had purpose BEFORE when he was SAVING THE WHOLE GALAXY???? As if Luke needed to be redeemed???? Why was I given a story in which Luke Skywalker, the HERO, was in need of a redemption? And am I to understand that he just, exerted himself to death? Uh, ok......? Where’s that meme of Padme saying “Guess I’ll die” when you need it?

Also why was the ancestral Skywalker family lightsaber calling to Rey if she’s not related to them (assuming that Kylo Ren was telling the truth)? Why was she seeing Luke in her dreams? Because she’s “The chosen one”? Didn’t we already HAVE a chosen one? And speaking of that... wasn’t that supposed to have brought balance to the Force? And it... didn’t?

I’m glad that Luke legit asked who the fuck Rey was to be the one to be sent to him, because that made literally no sense whatsoever.

The scenes were cutting all over the place and felt choppy. The pacing was rushed and the plot forced in many places. The tone was all over the place. The humor was inappropriate and fell flat. It visually did not look like Star Wars. In fact, I felt like Rian Johnson did everything in his power to give us a movie that was as un-Star Wars-like as possible.

6. Somehow also an awful rehash of Empire Strikes Back?? If you were paying attention to the plot, it’s not hard to figure out that they were trying to subtly give us Empire Strikes Back in disguise. Film starts with the evacuation of the rebel--oops sorry, resistance base. Proceed to have two of our main heroes being pursued by the Empire across the galaxy, while the Force Sensitive Protagonist is off trying to persuade the Exiled Jedi Master to train her, and he doesn’t want to. Then she ventures into a Dark Side cave and has a disturbing (and just weird?) vision. Then, while Secondary Heroes try to outrun the Empire First Order, she convinces the Exiled Jedi to train her against his best judgment, but she has More Force Visions of her friends of the man whose dick she seemingly wants to suck and so she Leaves Exile Planet to go have a Confrontation with the Evil Force User where she learns a revelation about her parents and is invited to join the Dark Side but Makes An Escape. Then more fleeing from the Empire First Order. Then she rejoins the other lead characters in time to Escape Again, with some slight deviation from the plot--jumping ahead for Luke to die à la Yoda at the beginning of ROTJ, just as she reached her “Dagobah” a film early, as well.

They literally tried to sell us the exact same movie--but they used the same template with all the wrong actual content. They made a cheap knock-off of ESB and filled it with a Luke Skywalker in disgrace, a protagonist flirting (in more ways than one) with the Dark Side, the normalization of the Dark Side, and the destruction of central Star Wars themes.

So, all in all, they are simply reselling the original trilogy but also undoing the original trilogy and assassinating Han, Luke, and Leia as they go. I left the theater the instant the credits rolled. The ONLY positive thing I can say about it is that Mark and Carrie (RIP, she was hard to watch) gave good performances, even though their characters were ruined. I am heartbroken and obviously very angry. I am aware that this was supposed to be a review but became instead an angry rant, but I am as unapologetic of that fact as is Rian Johnson for what he’s done. In my opinion, Star Wars is irrevocably destroyed. The damage following VII was considerable, but this film just really took the cake. This is not my Star Wars, and I will never make the mistake of seeing another Star Wars movie again.

[making-business-matter-blog]

The Ultimate Guide to Communication Skills

By Dan Silverman 

Communication Skills are the abilities to convey information to others effectively and efficiently. These skills are verbal, non-verbal (body language) and written.

What is Communication?

Communication is the act of conveying meanings from one person or group to another.  This happens through the use of understood signs, symbols, and semiotic rules. It applies to anyone, including those who don’t speak.  Even babies communicate.  It is always occurring.  People take for granted that Communication Skills don’t just happen. Communication is viewed uniquely by each person based on experiences or understanding of the topic.  The other person may hold a different impression of what you mean.  This refers to a mental filter.

Mental Filters

An example of a mental filter is what the receiver thinks about the sender.  If the person receiving the message doesn’t trust the sender then there is a problem.  For instance, we can perceive an honest and sincere message from the sender as bossy.

Avoid unintended communications by using a framework for messages. A profound and exciting story can grab your audience, or your audience can grab their phones and check the game highlights.  The difference is all in the delivery.

To learn more about communication, watch our 1-minute video below:

'The major mistake in communication is to believe that it happens.' - George Shaw

The 5 Elements of the Communication Process

Sender - Receiver - Message - Context - Listening

The process of communication happens on a loop.  It starts with the sender as the first element.  Feedback and listening as the fifth element and then circling back to the sender.

1. Sender

The person starting the conversation (the sender) knows in their mind what they intend the message to be.  By knowing the audience, the person can deliver the message in a format the receiver will know best.  Then evaluate the other four elements before you deliver the message.  The sender can give the message through text, email, verbal or non-verbal.  Regardless of the channel, you still need to follow a framework for the message.  This is important so that a message meant to be helpful doesn’t seem indecisive or the opposite, short or rude.

When deciding how to phrase the wording of the message, use the popular and effective Think-Feel-Do (TFD method).

Think. Example:  I want the person to think the project is approved.

Feel.   Example:  The employee should feel valued and appreciated.

Do.  Example: I want the person to collaborate with the team.

2. Receiver

The receiver of a message can be one person or a group.  They should pay careful attention to the message.  Listen and watch the sender’s body language.  The receiver should give non-verbal signals to the sender, like nodding in agreement, and smiling if it applies.

3. Message

The message is made from the channel (text, phone, email) and non-verbal communication.  The TFD method also plays a part in the message.    

4. Context/Channel

The context or channel involves the location, method, timing, and relationship.

You should consider the following:

The confidential nature or emotion of the information.  Do you need a quiet office, a large conference room, a newsletter, a television ad, etc?

Is your information complex and involved or easy to communicate?

What channel do you think the receiver will most prefer and understand?

How much time is available?

How will you answer questions if needed?

5. Listen and Give Feedback

Listening and giving feedback is important whether it is verbal or non-verbal.  Open-ended questions can gauge your receiver’s understanding of the information.  However, errors can occur with feedback, such as:

Closed-ended questions, for instance, 'Is that clear?' Or, 'Do you understand' are used.  It may be understood, but the receiver has a different perspective than the sender.    

Not listening or watching for any verbal or non-verbal clues of defensiveness, lack of interest or dishonesty.

What Are the 4 Types of Communication Skills?

Do you ever think about HOW you interact with others and what effect it has? Each type of communication is used in different circumstances and to convey a different intent.  The basic communication types are intended to persuade, inform, or educate.

The following are the 4 types of communication:

Visual

Written

Verbal

Non-Verbal

1. Visual Communication Skills

Reading or seeing is visual communication.  It can be anything that shows a message, expresses an idea and gives information.  For example, signs, gestures, postures, or other avenues that can be expressive. An example is the female or male looking stick figures on the door of many public toilets.  These are basic symbols that we identify as signalling that this is a women’s or a men's toilet.  Another example is a thumb’s up gesture.  This shows that things are okay.

2. Written Communication Skills

This is often your first impression to another.  It shows your ideas through written symbols.  It is the most common form of business communication and includes letters, emails, or text messages to name a few. What is your writing saying about you? What story are you telling?

Important:  Whenever you send a written document, still follow the 5 elements as noted above.

Business Writing Done Properly:

Improving your written Communication Skills will improve how others perceive you.  Always write without banter and 'fluff' but still keep it warm to develop rapport.  Moreover, business writing should remove any information that does not add to the meaning.  It should state the aim directly.

There are an estimated 246 billion emails worldwide sent and received daily.  On average a manager or executive receives 200 emails per day. Every email you send is a chance to showcase your writing. People judge others based on their tone.  The words you use send a message and you don’t want that message to incompetent or rude. Learn how to persuade, inform or educate your audience through writing.  This shows confidence, knowledge and success!

3. Verbal Communication Skills

Verbal communication is the process of presenting ideas through speech.  This is a particularly important skill for people in sales, customer service and business roles.  Positions working with customers and the public require excellent verbal Communication Skills.

The 4 Types of Verbal Communication:

Interpersonal - This is the conversation we have with ourselves.  We can choose to keep these conversations to ourselves, for instance, our thoughts.  Or we can choose to tell our internal conversation to others.

Interpersonal   - This takes place between two people where each person switches roles between sender and receiver.

Small-Group - Two or more people are involved.  The number of people involved is kept small, so each one is able to give input.  Group meetings, press conferences and board meetings are examples of this.

Public Communication - One person addresses a large group.  One sender to many receivers.

4. Non-Verbal Communication Skills

Most people guess what non-verbal is, however, they might miss half the story.  Non-verbal is as much about listening and observing as showing your non-verbal cues. In short, non-verbal communication tells the deeper story. An example of non-verbal communication is your response to an employee calling in sick on stock take day.  This is the third year in a row it has happened.  The night before you saw them at a football game with no visible sickness.  You might say 'okay, I hope you feel better' but the tone of your voice conveys irritation and disbelief.  

The 4 Types of Non-Verbal Communication:

Eye Contact - This is one of the most valued traits.  Someone who looks you in the eye shows they are listening and interested.  Not looking someone in the eye can seem dishonest, distracted or disinterested.

Body Language - Body language is strongly tied to psychology.  It can convey happiness, disapproval, anger, and the list goes on. Some people show body language that does not match their feelings.  Thus, it is important to confirm your impression.   This may also make the other person defensive or embarrassed.  Remember to read your audience and adjust.    

Paralinguistic - A big word referring to inflexion, tone, loudness, pitch and rhythm of your voice.  It can express seriousness, boredom, sarcasm, just to name a few.

Facial Expression - Anything on our face that conveys a response to what we hear or say. Lifted eyebrows, pursed lips, smirking are examples, and eye contact.

'60 % of all human communication is nonverbal body language; 30 % is your tone, so that means 90 % of what you are saying doesn’t come from your mouth.' - Alex Hitchens

Excuse the Interruption, but Here’s a Little Bit About Us...

We are the soft skills training provider to the UK Grocery Industry, helping Suppliers to win more business. They choose us because of our money-back guarantee, our relevant experience, and because we make their learning stick.

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Our unique training method, Sticky Learning ®, ensures that your Learners are still using their new skill 5 months later and this is supported by a money-back guarantee.

10 Barriers to Effective Communication

Communication can be slowed or stopped due to barriers.  Some are:

Language barriers - Different language or accent.

Linguistic ability - Jargon or buzzwords.

Physical barriers - Actual distance between sender and receiver.

Attitudinal barriers - Personality conflicts, poor management, and resistance to change.

Psychological - behavioural and mental aspects, including anger and stress.

Ambiguity - words that sound the same with different meanings.

Physiological - discomfort, ill health, poor eyesight or hearing.

Technology - multitasking and condensation of information.

Fear of being criticised - Not wanting embarrassment or criticism.

Gender barrier - specific traits of conflict resolution and communication based on gender.

The Impact of Poor Communication

The cost of poor interaction can have a big impact.  We often take small misunderstandings in stride and chalk them up to an error. When this happens, take time to reflect. Why did the disconnect happen to begin with? Furthermore, did you contribute to the problem? Often, it is not until large or complex problems come up do we stop to find the cause.  Yet, the same primary faults create small problems as large ones.

When Workplace Communication Doesn’t Work

The time and cost involved in daily interactions of workers are hard to measure.  Areas that are not productive are addressed and resolved.  

This mishap could increase the original cost of the interaction.  Companies can help by investing in Communication Skills training course for their employees.

Employees cannot practice skills that they are not trained in.  Even so, employees are held responsible for the problems. Finally, employers are starting to estimate more closely the loss of wages to the company.  Therefore, companies are including Communication Skills courses in their training budget.

'Speak when you are angry, and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.' - Ambrose Bierce

Communication Skills in the 21st Century Workplace

The skills you need today are evolving at a rapid pace. They need to in order to keep up with the rapidly changing business world.  Companies create products in record time, make quick decisions involve many people. In-person discussion is becoming less and less common.  In part because of the physical location of coworkers in a global market varies. Your job requires you to interact and collaborate with many types of people.  Because Communication Skills are lacking in organisations, we need basic ways to work with one another.

Employers are moving away from slower methods of communications such as desk phones.  This is in favour of artificial intelligence-based products such as apps, chatbots and voice assistants.  The drive for productivity is leading the effort. There are countless technologies coming out at lightning speed.  Yet, humans will need to still interact with clarity, despite barriers.

Problems That Arise From 21st Century Communication

Global businesses give access to millions more people than would be possible of a local company.  This requires adjustments that companies do not train their employees in. The lack of skills today can cause lost contracts, employee turnover, and frustrated customers. If your organisation is not global, it still impacts you because of global suppliers and customers.  Training will help remain successful when interacting with others.

Examples of modern communication barriers:

Physical Location  

Difficulties can happen when working with others in another time-zone. An example would be a coworker in the United Kingdom.  They are working with someone in the United States.  There is a five hour time difference.  The start of business in the U.K. maybe 4:00 am in the U.S.

There is an increase in email usage even to give complex messages.  We know complex topics are better discussed in person or by phone.  This can lead to misunderstandings and delays. Everyday information is okay.  When decisions are needed or participation is required, it is inconvenient.  Not to mention it impacts the relationship of coworkers.

Talk over what working hours will work to contact the other person. The person in the U.S. may not mind being contacted at 6:00 am.  However, to be nice, the U.K. does not contact the U.S. worker until the U.S. office hours. Remote worker situations can be a challenge. Furthermore, employees may not even be in a different time zone but located off-site.  Yet, this can still isolate the employee and complicate communication.    

Generational Differences

Employees are working longer.  Much longer. Recent studies suggest that workers aged 55 and older currently make up 16% of the total workforce in the European Union.  For comparison, for every 10 Generation Z employees, there are 12 people aged 65 or older in the EU.

Workers are staying in jobs longer for many reasons, for example:

Lack of financial savings.

Longer, healthier living means a person can still work.

Workers stay due to talent shortages to fill their role.

Some people enjoy their job and want to remain productive.

Regardless of the reason, working with multiple generations in the workforce requires consideration.  Keep in mind that many ideas about older workers can often be stereotypes.  These include slow pace, resistance to training and new ideas.

Understand that stereotypes may not be true.

An example is older workers and technology:  

Older workers rarely have technology skills that younger workers do.  The communication style present today is not what the older generation was raised with.  This changes with each generation.  An example of this would be a direct message (DM) or instant message (IM).  Many older workers prefer to contact by phone or email and may not be familiar with a DM or IM. They also may not see the benefit in it.  Younger workers use it more often and the familiar tool is second nature as they have grown up with it.  To a younger or middle-aged person, this is an effective and quick way to ask a question or inform.  It is fast and doesn’t require a full-blown email or phone call.

Cultural Differences

An obvious difference between employees being from different countries is language.  We can misinterpret the intended meaning and cause offence and feelings of resentment. A frequent issue is using Google translate or something similar to translate a message.  The semantics of the message are different from intended.  Even if the other person gets the concept, more explanation is needed. Whether by personality or culture, some people are direct and to the point.  This can be taken as cold and rude.

Advanced Technology

The virtual world and the global workplace are similar.  In both places, a process of communication should be followed.  This requires observing the other person. With technology, you may use the latest and greatest tools.  However, if a coworker in an impoverished country cannot access these tools, then you need to make accommodations. Just as in person. If a person has a barrier to communication, then you need to adjust your style.

An example of this would make certain that everyone involved has access to the same technology. For instance, if five people use a team app such as Slack, however, two others can only use email. You need, therefore, to provide a summary of all discussions through Slack.  Forwarded to the two individuals via email and request their feedback. Lastly, if this occurs, try to make efforts to find a programme that works for everyone.

Why Is It Important to Listen?

To listen is to learn.  Hearing is different from listening.  You don’t become a better listener simply by hearing more. Listening is intentional and focused. There are many aspects to listening.  When you practice focused listening, you start to realise those details.  It is a skill.  Your practice can be with strangers, friends, or coworkers.

Listening happens as much with your eyes as with your ears. Eye-rolling for annoyance, or head nodding in agreement.  Non-verbally we can observe with our eyes.  Exclamation marks or words written in all caps can signal anger or excitement. Any uncertain actions mean the sender needs to clarify the message. It is up to the sender to craft a message that the receiver is able to understand with clarity. Oversight because of the wrong context or channel should not be blamed on the receiver.

Questioning

To help determine if a message was clear or to get further information, you can use questioning.

Open-ended questions. These require a longer answer with some detail.

Closed-end questions.  Questions that answered with one-word answers.  Yes, no, maybe.  They stop the conversation.

Funnelling.  Start with general questions and then ask questions that drill down on that topic.  Each question is more direct and decisive.  This is a common tactic with police.

Focused Listening

There are 6 Key Qualities of Focused Listening:

Smile genuinely.  This builds warmth and rapport.

Appear alert by standing or sitting with good posture and look attentive.

Show your focus. Control distractions and fidgeting.

Find a commonality.  Either personal or professional.

Keep it positive.  Don’t complain or say negative things about others.

Ask open-ended questions.  This keeps the conversation ball rolling.

'Listen with curiosity. Speak with honesty. Act with integrity. The greatest problem with communication is we don’t listen to understand. We listen to reply. When we listen with curiosity, we don’t listen with the intent to reply. We listen for what’s behind the words.' - Roy T. Bennett

5 Basic Styles of Communication Skills

When you know your style of communication, then you can interact confidently when encountering the individual styles below:

Assertive

Aggressive

Passive-aggressive

Submissive

Manipulative

The Five Basic Styles of Communication each using corresponding verbal and non-verbal characteristics.  Each style has common words and phrases.

1. Assertive

Is mentally and emotionally the healthiest of the styles; however, the fewest people use this style of communication.  They advocate for themselves and state their needs.  They address issues as they arise.

2.  Aggressive

People express their emotions and opinions with a domineering attitude that can often be harmful to others.    

3. Passive Aggressive

Individuals seem calm and passive but bring down others in subtle ways.  This is often because they cannot directly deal with their anger or resentment.

4. Submissive

Is about pleasing other people.  They believe other’s needs are more important than their own.  They think others can contribute more than they can.

5. Manipulative

A type of person with their best interest in mind.  They are cunning and good at influencing and controlling others.  They ask indirectly for their needs to be met, making others feel sorry for them.

'Don’t use words too big for the subject. Don’t say infinitely when you mean very; otherwise, you’ll have no word left when you want to talk about something really infinite.' - C.S. Lewis

How to Deal with Communication Problems

The best way to communicate with others is not a guessing game. Follow the details below and you will have smooth interactions going forward. Communication problems will be helped if you understand where the process stopped working.  Find where the misunderstanding occurred, and you resolve the issue quicker. Whether you can determine the point of communication problem or not, you need to open the communication channel.  You can start this by the following.

Show Empathy and Listen with Intent

To establish dialogue can be scary and uncertain for both parties. Make the person comfortable and create a secure environment to share information. First, let them know you understand their message by practising methods of effective communication. Show you are a trusted individual by focused listening and using the best method for them. Lastly, let them know you would like to help solve the issue.  This is done through verbal and non-verbal communication.

Questioning

Use the questioning method of communication to ask good, relevant questions. Then evaluate additional details. Match the tone and pace of the other person so it does not appear that you are rapid-firing questions.  Give the person enough space and time to convey information.

Provide Guidance

It is likely the person has come to you for help in solving the problem.  Part of a leader’s role is working together to figure out the next best steps.  Further investigation is often the next step. Brainstorm ideas together and detail what should happen next.  Get answers from others if needed.  Make it clear you would like to improve or solve the problem.  The issue is important to them and to you.

Follow Up

Be certain the person knows when they will hear from you.  Recap the overview of the conversation. The recap should be written and documented so they can correct any errors.  Letter or email is appropriate to use. Anything wrong in the wording or meaning should be corrected and a new recap sent. Regardless if you are a manager, human resources, or an employee; set the tone and follow the process.  It will reduce future communication problems and furthermore, headaches.

Watch our interview with Lee McDonald of the Said Business School Oxford, discussing how better communication can help improve office politics:

Can Better Communication Skills Help Me Get Ahead?

As mentioned, Communication Skills are a hot commodity.  Human resource departments are actively seeking out high-end soft skills.  These skills show you are flexible and can be trained for future positions.

State your level of skills on your CV.  Then during a phone interview, you can describe examples of how you have used the skills.  When you get the in-person interview, show concrete examples.  Use body language that portrays self-confidence.

For Example:

Sales would need articulation, negotiation skills, persuasion, wit, clarity in speaking, presentation skills.

Customer service would need conflict management, interpersonal skills, empathy, warmth, negotiation.

Human Resources would need listening, interpersonal, social, conflict management and people management skills.

Purchasing would need accuracy, negotiation, conflict management.

Take a cue from the job description.  Include areas from the company’s core values to tie into the culture.

Try searching on a job board for your best communication trait.  Such as negotiation.  You might be interested in the results.  A wide range of opportunities and industries could be open to you. Your cover letter should lead with your solution to their problem.  What problem can you fix that is a key component of the job?

Communication Competency

This improves the skills and relationships you bring to a company.  Companies now create assessments around this competency before hiring.  Will you make the cut?

The Job Interview

The Importance of Networking

Low rates of unemployment.  The high number of applicants for each job.  This scenario makes networking imperative.  It can help get your foot in the door for the interview.

Use a framework of pitching to create a successful request.  Remember, you never know if you never ask.

Advice from LinkedIn Learning encourages us to Use the What - Why - How - format.

Be direct when you ask.  

What.  State the action you need directly.

Why. Create urgency.

How.  Make the next steps for the decision-maker as easy as possible.

Let’s try an example:

You sent out countless CVs but did not get a call.  A position has opened up where an old acquaintance works but you are reluctant to reach out.  It is uncomfortable to ask a favour from this person even though you had a good history.

What action do you need?  An opportunity with your organisation has opened up and I would like to get your insight on the position.

Why is this time-sensitive?  My current company has shut its doors.  As the only income in my house, I am actively looking for a new position.

How are the next steps easy for me to take?  Would you be willing to tell me about what your company values in an employee? Can I put your name down as a reference?  I am finished with the application aside from references.

This scenario should give a successful ask.

Take your questioning a step further with 5 Bums on a Rugby Post:

As you can see from the image we've extended it a bit further.  Firstly, the rugby post forms an ‘H’. This is for ‘How’. Each of the bums is a ‘W’. These remind us of five open questions, ‘Who’, ‘What’, ‘When’, ‘Where’, ‘Why’. You should think about your pitch and ask these questions. This is an easy way to remember all the questions you need to answer to be prepared for any eventuality.

Communication Skills in An Interview:

An interview can be daunting.  Use the five elements of the communication process and you are certain to look prepared!

Sender - You deliver solid, quantified examples.

Receiver - The interviewer uses proper communication methods to listen and understand your message.

Message - Through body language you portray self-confidence.  Through the clarity of speech, you show capability.  You have a logical order for your presentation.  Your ideas are easy to understand.

Context - You present through the visual slideshow and physical products you have designed.

Feedback - You ask questions to make sure they understand your capabilities and interests.  You receive their feedback.  You get a callback!

Show Off Your Skills on A CV

The old ways of adding keywords to your CV would be enough to get a phone call.  Now you need to go much further to get your name and CV in front of a decision-maker.

Applicant tracking systems are designed to find the best candidate, on paper.  Your desirable traits can only be found by self-promotion.  One area of self-promotion is to include keywords on your CV that match the primary job description or functions.

Match your skills to where the industry is going.  Understand trends in the industry and keep up with major news in the field.

Conduct A Meeting

Meetings are a hot spot for communication difficulties.  People from different countries or remote workers may chime in.  The meeting could contain several departments and functions.  Each department, such as accounting, human resources, and sales having different perspectives.

It is helpful in a meeting with a lot of information and various knowledge bases to have a facilitator.  This person will direct the verbal traffic of the meeting.

The facilitator pays attention to comments, questions, and non-verbal cues.  Paraphrase or recap the comment helps to know if the intent is understood.  It also engages conversation.

Recap of non-verbal cues can sound something like:

'Mike, it looks like you have concerns' or 'Jill, did you want to add something?'.  This gives someone an open invitation to discuss.  You are also receiving verbal affirmation of the other person’s views.    

Reuse the same verbiage or subtle gestures as the person or group you are communicating with.  Match the other person’s words, tone or gestures to give a sense of commonality.  When someone identifies with another, they can share their ideas without fear.

How to Improve Your Communication Skills

The easiest way to develop your Communication Skills is to attend a training session to help you to get your message across more succinctly and effectively. Formal training will help you understand the theoretical models in the classroom. Moreover, it will give you the chance to practice in a safe and comfortable space. We suggest taking our Communication Training Course, or a shorter course to refine your skills for a specific situation, for instance, meetings. It is then critical that you embed the skills by using them in your day to day role.

If you prefer a more personal and bespoke touch, we suggest you consider getting someone to coach you. This could be an external professional or someone you trust in the business to push you. The main purpose of executive coaching is to help you think about your behaviours and skills differently. Moreover, to make sure that you are being held accountable for using the skills you have. You only become better by pushing yourself to use new models and challenge your existing behaviours.

For more information, please contact us or fill out the form at the end of this article. Our trainers are from your industry and can provide training on any one of our products, from Myers Briggs and GSCOP to Category Management, and HBDI. Furthermore, we use our unique Sticky Learning method which is guaranteed to make your learning stick.

Communication Skills - In Summary

They improve relationships, seal deals, and help you to negotiate a pay rise.  The importance of Communication Skills in life cannot be overstated.  They are vital to success in every relationship. Communication is the product of the future.  Improving your Communication Skills through training is a great way to see real results in your personal and professional life.

'Assumptions are the termites of relationships.' - Henry Winkler

Further Reading and Resources

You can find further insight, detailed definitions and clarification of all the key Communication Skills terms mentioned in this guide in our Glossary of Terms.

Communication Skills Quotes

'We have two ears and one mouth so we can listen twice as much as we speak'. – Epictetus

'Research indicates that employees have three prime needs: Interesting work, recognition for doing a good job, and being let in on things that are going on in the company.' Zig Ziglar

'Know when to email vs. when to meet. Logistics are best handled over a non-immediate communication channel like email or Asana tasks. Detailed status meetings will suck the life out of your day.' - Justin Rosenstein

'Feedback is the breakfast of champions.' - Ken Blanchard

Communication Skills Videos

Watch our Communication Skills playlist from our YouTube channel:

Take a look at Celeste Headlee discussing ways to have better conversations in her TED Talk:

Watch Lera Boroditsky exploring how language shapes how we think and communicate:

Contact Us

Feel free to get in touch to find out how our Communication Course can help you improve your Communication Skills. Simply fill out the form below, and we will be happy to get back to you with further information:

About Dan Silverman

Dan is an experienced career development professional and leadership coach. His strengths lie in defining goals and assessing capabilities to implement strategic business plans and build key relationships. He has a solid background in developing HR strategic plans, policies, and creating programmes designed to attract and retain highly motivated and productive employees.

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Teens are calling themselves “ugly” on TikTok. It’s not as depressing as you think.

Getty Images

Instagram is a beauty pageant. TikTok is where kids are free to be mediocre.

There’s a TikTok that’s just a boy saying, “I may be ugly, but at least I’m also … dumb and annoying.” Then he dances while Ariana Grande’s “Successful” plays. It’s extremely funny, and a little bit sad, and I think about it every day.

Kids on TikTok call themselves ugly all the time, most of the time as a joke, but not always, and I’m never sure how I’m supposed to feel about it. “Why do I look like this? What’s the reason?” asked the popular TikToker @emmwee in her car without makeup. “Me being shocked at how ugly I look,” wrote Brittany Tomlinson, better known as the kombucha girl, at one moment in an unrelated video. “I like a boy but I’m ugly, what do I do with that?” sings 18-year-old high school senior David Postlewate, in one TikTok about a highly familiar experience.

David isn’t ugly by any means — none of these kids are — but the internet has created a never-ending conveyor belt of people so bafflingly good-looking that everyone else is immediately rendered ugly by comparison. “I know that I’m not going to look like Benji Krol,” says David, referring to the TikToker with a nest of raven hair and 5.6 million followers. “But I’m my own person, and that’s what makes you beautiful,” he says, not consciously referring to the One Direction song.

The thing about TikTok is that as much as it is a place for teenagers to goof off in their bedrooms, it is also the world’s largest beauty pageant. After all, part of the fun about making TikToks is getting to stare at your face for as long as you want, and if you happen to be very, very beautiful, then other people will enjoy staring at your face, too. A stunningly massive portion of the app is devoted to genetically blessed users, e-boys like Benji Krol and human Barbies like Loren Gray. A scroll through the TikTok’s home For You feed will reveal plenty of content where, despite whatever action is going on in the video, the real takeaway is “I’m hot.”

It is against this backdrop that its inverse, “I’m ugly” culture, has proliferated. Rather than trying to compete for views and likes with the genetically gifted, kids are pivoting to self-deprecation in a way that’s less depressing than it might seem to concerned parents: it’s a reclamation of mediocrity in an online space where everyone else is an overachiever.

17-year-old Annie Pham was satirizing TikTok’s culture of hot people and glow-ups when she made her viral video in late August. Using a popular meme where people would show their “before” selves and their “after” selves on the beat drop, Annie’s instead showed her “before” self trying and failing to transform. “Why isn’t it working?” she complains to the camera. “After like, a week, I was reading the comments, and it was really cool to see how much people relate to it,” she says.

Relatable videos are why people like TikTok in the first place, and feeling unattractive on TikTok is one of the most relatable experiences of all. David, of the “I like a boy but I’m ugly” video, for instance, has a TikTok bio that reads “ugly is my only personality trait.”

David only made the video because that’s what was happening in his life: He liked a boy who he thought was out of his league. (“He’s really cute, he goes to my school. We’re both in theater,” he says.) He describes himself as a “really confident person,” by the way. He just doesn’t take himself all that seriously.

Normal kids have created an entire genre of internet comedy devoted to how constantly seeing exceptional talent and beauty go viral makes the rest of us feel like ugly losers. On my feed I see videos of kids turning the shitty aspects of their lives into funny content: their most embarrassing sports mistakes, hideous childhood photos, dilapidated apartments, unfortunate haircuts, leg nipples, imprisoned parents, disproportionately long thumbs, sexual ineptitude, mental illness. And of course, their minor physical insecurities: girls who feel like they’re asymmetrical, girls who hate their smiles, girls who have a cute, pretty face but a body that “looks like a fucking potato.”

The layers of irony on any social media app that young people are using can be difficult for adults to parse, but when it relates to topics like body image and self-esteem, psychologists take it seriously. “I kind of celebrate what they’re doing — they’re trying to push back on the idea that we all look perfect on social media,” says Sara Frischer, a psychiatric nurse practitioner at Union Square Practice in New York City. “But I think it’s just a little misguided in how they’re doing it. It’s deflection, and it’s self-protective to then make a joke about it. It protects people from feeling vulnerable.” She gives the example of being a bad speller. If you say to yourself that you’re the worst speller in the world, that’s protecting yourself from someone else pointing it out.

But what if you’re just objectively a bad speller? What would true acceptance of that fact even look like? “That’s where self-compassion comes in,” she says. “Saying, ‘This is something I really struggle with, and I just happen to not be such a great speller.’ Having compassion for yourself, talking about how hard it is to struggle with this, and all the emotions involved. It’s adding self-compassion instead of self-deprecation. That’s the missing element.”

“I’m ugly” culture has spread so far on TikTok that now even TikTok’s “pretty people” are co-opting sounds and memes meant for those self-described uglies. That’s given way to a wider culture of policing, wherein those users’ comments sections are flooded with fishing rods to signify that they’re fishing for compliments.

In July, Ryan Sterling, a 23-year-old in the Chicago suburbs who has had alopecia since he was in middle school, uploaded a video that begins with a picture of Britney Spears with a shaved head followed by a picture of Mr. Clean, and then himself: “It all started when my mom met my dad, then they fell in love, and they had me. Hi, I’m Ryan,” he says. “And my life? It’s kinda crazy.”

Within a few weeks, the “Hi, I’m Ryan” video had spawned a massive viral meme, even ending up on a segment of Ellen. But whereas Ryan’s original video made fun of the way he looked, iterations that came after — often where a person would show their two very attractive parents and the punchline was their even more attractive self — were little more than excuses to brag. In September, Ryan posted another TikTok directed at them: “Get off my sound, it’s for ugly people!” he says. “All you pretty-ass people with your pretty parents and your perfect genes, get out of here! We uglies and the balds and the grosses and the ickies, we need to fight back!”

Olivia Chesney, a 19-year-old at Roger Williams University in Rhode Island, was in the middle of homework when she went into the bathroom to make a random video. She’s standing in front of the mirror and asking, “Why do I be looking so good from the front?” Then she turns to the side and bursts out laughing. The joke is that she looks bigger that way, and the video now has more than 2.5 million views.

That video isn’t the only TikTok she’s made about her body, and not all of them are self-deprecating. There’s one where she shows cute photos her friends have taken of her, and another lip synching to the 1958 swing song “The Bigger the Figure.”

Olivia, like all of us, lives in a world where even if you aren’t born skinny, or distractingly gorgeous, or whatever, you’re still supposed to do everything you possibly can to become those things; to starve your body down and add on some lip fillers until you’re deemed presentable. Americans continue to spend more money on plastic surgery and weight loss plans every year, and one study of UK youth showed that Instagram had the worst effect on body image among any social media site. There are an ever-growing number of billion-dollar industries built upon the profits that come from making people feel awful about themselves, even if those products are shrouded in the aesthetics of positivity and empowerment.

Calling yourself ugly on TikTok, then, is a form of freedom from the expectation of hotness. It’s a self-deprecating in-joke that only excludes the extraordinarily beautiful, who could maybe stand to be excluded from something for once.

“I’m ugly” culture on TikTok also obfuscates its happier subtext: That yeah, it’s okay to be ugly, because now you can focus on more important things. Olivia explains this feeling while talking about a video where she calls herself fat: “People who are ugly, people who are fat, it’s just like, why are we trying to hide it anymore? We can still live our lives and be that way.”

It’s not like “ugly” people don’t happy lives or fall in love or get rich or go viral on TikTok. The boy that David sang about? The one he liked? It’s possible that they’re maybe, sort of in the process of getting together.

“If I’m going to be completely honest, and I don’t know yet because things haven’t really been official,” he tells me, “but I think that stuff is starting to happen with him.” It’s all extremely beautiful.

Sign up for The Goods’ newsletter. Twice a week, we’ll send you the best Goods stories exploring what we buy, why we buy it, and why it matters.

from Vox - All https://ift.tt/2O9MEAw

[gracieyvonnehunter]

Teens are calling themselves “ugly” on TikTok. It’s not as depressing as you think.

Getty Images

Instagram is a beauty pageant. TikTok is where kids are free to be mediocre.

There’s a TikTok that’s just a boy saying, “I may be ugly, but at least I’m also … dumb and annoying.” Then he dances while Ariana Grande’s “Successful” plays. It’s extremely funny, and a little bit sad, and I think about it every day.

Kids on TikTok call themselves ugly all the time, most of the time as a joke, but not always, and I’m never sure how I’m supposed to feel about it. “Why do I look like this? What’s the reason?” asked the popular TikToker @emmwee in her car without makeup. “Me being shocked at how ugly I look,” wrote Brittany Tomlinson, better known as the kombucha girl, at one moment in an unrelated video. “I like a boy but I’m ugly, what do I do with that?” sings 18-year-old high school senior David Postlewate, in one TikTok about a highly familiar experience.

David isn’t ugly by any means — none of these kids are — but the internet has created a never-ending conveyor belt of people so bafflingly good-looking that everyone else is immediately rendered ugly by comparison. “I know that I’m not going to look like Benji Krol,” says David, referring to the TikToker with a nest of raven hair and 5.6 million followers. “But I’m my own person, and that’s what makes you beautiful,” he says, not consciously referring to the One Direction song.

The thing about TikTok is that as much as it is a place for teenagers to goof off in their bedrooms, it is also the world’s largest beauty pageant. After all, part of the fun about making TikToks is getting to stare at your face for as long as you want, and if you happen to be very, very beautiful, then other people will enjoy staring at your face, too. A stunningly massive portion of the app is devoted to genetically blessed users, e-boys like Benji Krol and human Barbies like Loren Gray. A scroll through the TikTok’s home For You feed will reveal plenty of content where, despite whatever action is going on in the video, the real takeaway is “I’m hot.”

It is against this backdrop that its inverse, “I’m ugly” culture, has proliferated. Rather than trying to compete for views and likes with the genetically gifted, kids are pivoting to self-deprecation in a way that’s less depressing than it might seem to concerned parents: it’s a reclamation of mediocrity in an online space where everyone else is an overachiever.

17-year-old Annie Pham was satirizing TikTok’s culture of hot people and glow-ups when she made her viral video in late August. Using a popular meme where people would show their “before” selves and their “after” selves on the beat drop, Annie’s instead showed her “before” self trying and failing to transform. “Why isn’t it working?” she complains to the camera. “After like, a week, I was reading the comments, and it was really cool to see how much people relate to it,” she says.

Relatable videos are why people like TikTok in the first place, and feeling unattractive on TikTok is one of the most relatable experiences of all. David, of the “I like a boy but I’m ugly” video, for instance, has a TikTok bio that reads “ugly is my only personality trait.”

David only made the video because that’s what was happening in his life: He liked a boy who he thought was out of his league. (“He’s really cute, he goes to my school. We’re both in theater,” he says.) He describes himself as a “really confident person,” by the way. He just doesn’t take himself all that seriously.

Normal kids have created an entire genre of internet comedy devoted to how constantly seeing exceptional talent and beauty go viral makes the rest of us feel like ugly losers. On my feed I see videos of kids turning the shitty aspects of their lives into funny content: their most embarrassing sports mistakes, hideous childhood photos, dilapidated apartments, unfortunate haircuts, leg nipples, imprisoned parents, disproportionately long thumbs, sexual ineptitude, mental illness. And of course, their minor physical insecurities: girls who feel like they’re asymmetrical, girls who hate their smiles, girls who have a cute, pretty face but a body that “looks like a fucking potato.”

The layers of irony on any social media app that young people are using can be difficult for adults to parse, but when it relates to topics like body image and self-esteem, psychologists take it seriously. “I kind of celebrate what they’re doing — they’re trying to push back on the idea that we all look perfect on social media,” says Sara Frischer, a psychiatric nurse practitioner at Union Square Practice in New York City. “But I think it’s just a little misguided in how they’re doing it. It’s deflection, and it’s self-protective to then make a joke about it. It protects people from feeling vulnerable.” She gives the example of being a bad speller. If you say to yourself that you’re the worst speller in the world, that’s protecting yourself from someone else pointing it out.

But what if you’re just objectively a bad speller? What would true acceptance of that fact even look like? “That’s where self-compassion comes in,” she says. “Saying, ‘This is something I really struggle with, and I just happen to not be such a great speller.’ Having compassion for yourself, talking about how hard it is to struggle with this, and all the emotions involved. It’s adding self-compassion instead of self-deprecation. That’s the missing element.”

“I’m ugly” culture has spread so far on TikTok that now even TikTok’s “pretty people” are co-opting sounds and memes meant for those self-described uglies. That’s given way to a wider culture of policing, wherein those users’ comments sections are flooded with fishing rods to signify that they’re fishing for compliments.

In July, Ryan Sterling, a 23-year-old in the Chicago suburbs who has had alopecia since he was in middle school, uploaded a video that begins with a picture of Britney Spears with a shaved head followed by a picture of Mr. Clean, and then himself: “It all started when my mom met my dad, then they fell in love, and they had me. Hi, I’m Ryan,” he says. “And my life? It’s kinda crazy.”

Within a few weeks, the “Hi, I’m Ryan” video had spawned a massive viral meme, even ending up on a segment of Ellen. But whereas Ryan’s original video made fun of the way he looked, iterations that came after — often where a person would show their two very attractive parents and the punchline was their even more attractive self — were little more than excuses to brag. In September, Ryan posted another TikTok directed at them: “Get off my sound, it’s for ugly people!” he says. “All you pretty-ass people with your pretty parents and your perfect genes, get out of here! We uglies and the balds and the grosses and the ickies, we need to fight back!”

Olivia Chesney, a 19-year-old at Roger Williams University in Rhode Island, was in the middle of homework when she went into the bathroom to make a random video. She’s standing in front of the mirror and asking, “Why do I be looking so good from the front?” Then she turns to the side and bursts out laughing. The joke is that she looks bigger that way, and the video now has more than 2.5 million views.

That video isn’t the only TikTok she’s made about her body, and not all of them are self-deprecating. There’s one where she shows cute photos her friends have taken of her, and another lip synching to the 1958 swing song “The Bigger the Figure.”

Olivia, like all of us, lives in a world where even if you aren’t born skinny, or distractingly gorgeous, or whatever, you’re still supposed to do everything you possibly can to become those things; to starve your body down and add on some lip fillers until you’re deemed presentable. Americans continue to spend more money on plastic surgery and weight loss plans every year, and one study of UK youth showed that Instagram had the worst effect on body image among any social media site. There are an ever-growing number of billion-dollar industries built upon the profits that come from making people feel awful about themselves, even if those products are shrouded in the aesthetics of positivity and empowerment.

Calling yourself ugly on TikTok, then, is a form of freedom from the expectation of hotness. It’s a self-deprecating in-joke that only excludes the extraordinarily beautiful, who could maybe stand to be excluded from something for once.

“I’m ugly” culture on TikTok also obfuscates its happier subtext: That yeah, it’s okay to be ugly, because now you can focus on more important things. Olivia explains this feeling while talking about a video where she calls herself fat: “People who are ugly, people who are fat, it’s just like, why are we trying to hide it anymore? We can still live our lives and be that way.”

It’s not like “ugly” people don’t happy lives or fall in love or get rich or go viral on TikTok. The boy that David sang about? The one he liked? It’s possible that they’re maybe, sort of in the process of getting together.

“If I’m going to be completely honest, and I don’t know yet because things haven’t really been official,” he tells me, “but I think that stuff is starting to happen with him.” It’s all extremely beautiful.

Sign up for The Goods’ newsletter. Twice a week, we’ll send you the best Goods stories exploring what we buy, why we buy it, and why it matters.

from Vox - All https://ift.tt/2O9MEAw

[corneliusreignallen]

Teens are calling themselves “ugly” on TikTok. It’s not as depressing as you think.

Getty Images

Instagram is a beauty pageant. TikTok is where kids are free to be mediocre.

There’s a TikTok that’s just a boy saying, “I may be ugly, but at least I’m also … dumb and annoying.” Then he dances while Ariana Grande’s “Successful” plays. It’s extremely funny, and a little bit sad, and I think about it every day.

Kids on TikTok call themselves ugly all the time, most of the time as a joke, but not always, and I’m never sure how I’m supposed to feel about it. “Why do I look like this? What’s the reason?” asked the popular TikToker @emmwee in her car without makeup. “Me being shocked at how ugly I look,” wrote Brittany Tomlinson, better known as the kombucha girl, at one moment in an unrelated video. “I like a boy but I’m ugly, what do I do with that?” sings 18-year-old high school senior David Postlewate, in one TikTok about a highly familiar experience.

David isn’t ugly by any means — none of these kids are — but the internet has created a never-ending conveyor belt of people so bafflingly good-looking that everyone else is immediately rendered ugly by comparison. “I know that I’m not going to look like Benji Krol,” says David, referring to the TikToker with a nest of raven hair and 5.6 million followers. “But I’m my own person, and that’s what makes you beautiful,” he says, not consciously referring to the One Direction song.

The thing about TikTok is that as much as it is a place for teenagers to goof off in their bedrooms, it is also the world’s largest beauty pageant. After all, part of the fun about making TikToks is getting to stare at your face for as long as you want, and if you happen to be very, very beautiful, then other people will enjoy staring at your face, too. A stunningly massive portion of the app is devoted to genetically blessed users, e-boys like Benji Krol and human Barbies like Loren Gray. A scroll through the TikTok’s home For You feed will reveal plenty of content where, despite whatever action is going on in the video, the real takeaway is “I’m hot.”

It is against this backdrop that its inverse, “I’m ugly” culture, has proliferated. Rather than trying to compete for views and likes with the genetically gifted, kids are pivoting to self-deprecation in a way that’s less depressing than it might seem to concerned parents: it’s a reclamation of mediocrity in an online space where everyone else is an overachiever.

17-year-old Annie Pham was satirizing TikTok’s culture of hot people and glow-ups when she made her viral video in late August. Using a popular meme where people would show their “before” selves and their “after” selves on the beat drop, Annie’s instead showed her “before” self trying and failing to transform. “Why isn’t it working?” she complains to the camera. “After like, a week, I was reading the comments, and it was really cool to see how much people relate to it,” she says.

Relatable videos are why people like TikTok in the first place, and feeling unattractive on TikTok is one of the most relatable experiences of all. David, of the “I like a boy but I’m ugly” video, for instance, has a TikTok bio that reads “ugly is my only personality trait.”

David only made the video because that’s what was happening in his life: He liked a boy who he thought was out of his league. (“He’s really cute, he goes to my school. We’re both in theater,” he says.) He describes himself as a “really confident person,” by the way. He just doesn’t take himself all that seriously.

Normal kids have created an entire genre of internet comedy devoted to how constantly seeing exceptional talent and beauty go viral makes the rest of us feel like ugly losers. On my feed I see videos of kids turning the shitty aspects of their lives into funny content: their most embarrassing sports mistakes, hideous childhood photos, dilapidated apartments, unfortunate haircuts, leg nipples, imprisoned parents, disproportionately long thumbs, sexual ineptitude, mental illness. And of course, their minor physical insecurities: girls who feel like they’re asymmetrical, girls who hate their smiles, girls who have a cute, pretty face but a body that “looks like a fucking potato.”

The layers of irony on any social media app that young people are using can be difficult for adults to parse, but when it relates to topics like body image and self-esteem, psychologists take it seriously. “I kind of celebrate what they’re doing — they’re trying to push back on the idea that we all look perfect on social media,” says Sara Frischer, a psychiatric nurse practitioner at Union Square Practice in New York City. “But I think it’s just a little misguided in how they’re doing it. It’s deflection, and it’s self-protective to then make a joke about it. It protects people from feeling vulnerable.” She gives the example of being a bad speller. If you say to yourself that you’re the worst speller in the world, that’s protecting yourself from someone else pointing it out.

But what if you’re just objectively a bad speller? What would true acceptance of that fact even look like? “That’s where self-compassion comes in,” she says. “Saying, ‘This is something I really struggle with, and I just happen to not be such a great speller.’ Having compassion for yourself, talking about how hard it is to struggle with this, and all the emotions involved. It’s adding self-compassion instead of self-deprecation. That’s the missing element.”

“I’m ugly” culture has spread so far on TikTok that now even TikTok’s “pretty people” are co-opting sounds and memes meant for those self-described uglies. That’s given way to a wider culture of policing, wherein those users’ comments sections are flooded with fishing rods to signify that they’re fishing for compliments.

In July, Ryan Sterling, a 23-year-old in the Chicago suburbs who has had alopecia since he was in middle school, uploaded a video that begins with a picture of Britney Spears with a shaved head followed by a picture of Mr. Clean, and then himself: “It all started when my mom met my dad, then they fell in love, and they had me. Hi, I’m Ryan,” he says. “And my life? It’s kinda crazy.”

Within a few weeks, the “Hi, I’m Ryan” video had spawned a massive viral meme, even ending up on a segment of Ellen. But whereas Ryan’s original video made fun of the way he looked, iterations that came after — often where a person would show their two very attractive parents and the punchline was their even more attractive self — were little more than excuses to brag. In September, Ryan posted another TikTok directed at them: “Get off my sound, it’s for ugly people!” he says. “All you pretty-ass people with your pretty parents and your perfect genes, get out of here! We uglies and the balds and the grosses and the ickies, we need to fight back!”

Olivia Chesney, a 19-year-old at Roger Williams University in Rhode Island, was in the middle of homework when she went into the bathroom to make a random video. She’s standing in front of the mirror and asking, “Why do I be looking so good from the front?” Then she turns to the side and bursts out laughing. The joke is that she looks bigger that way, and the video now has more than 2.5 million views.

That video isn’t the only TikTok she’s made about her body, and not all of them are self-deprecating. There’s one where she shows cute photos her friends have taken of her, and another lip synching to the 1958 swing song “The Bigger the Figure.”

Olivia, like all of us, lives in a world where even if you aren’t born skinny, or distractingly gorgeous, or whatever, you’re still supposed to do everything you possibly can to become those things; to starve your body down and add on some lip fillers until you’re deemed presentable. Americans continue to spend more money on plastic surgery and weight loss plans every year, and one study of UK youth showed that Instagram had the worst effect on body image among any social media site. There are an ever-growing number of billion-dollar industries built upon the profits that come from making people feel awful about themselves, even if those products are shrouded in the aesthetics of positivity and empowerment.

Calling yourself ugly on TikTok, then, is a form of freedom from the expectation of hotness. It’s a self-deprecating in-joke that only excludes the extraordinarily beautiful, who could maybe stand to be excluded from something for once.

“I’m ugly” culture on TikTok also obfuscates its happier subtext: That yeah, it’s okay to be ugly, because now you can focus on more important things. Olivia explains this feeling while talking about a video where she calls herself fat: “People who are ugly, people who are fat, it’s just like, why are we trying to hide it anymore? We can still live our lives and be that way.”

It’s not like “ugly” people don’t happy lives or fall in love or get rich or go viral on TikTok. The boy that David sang about? The one he liked? It’s possible that they’re maybe, sort of in the process of getting together.

“If I’m going to be completely honest, and I don’t know yet because things haven’t really been official,” he tells me, “but I think that stuff is starting to happen with him.” It’s all extremely beautiful.

Sign up for The Goods’ newsletter. Twice a week, we’ll send you the best Goods stories exploring what we buy, why we buy it, and why it matters.

from Vox - All https://ift.tt/2O9MEAw

[shanedakotamuir]

Teens are calling themselves “ugly” on TikTok. It’s not as depressing as you think.

Getty Images

Instagram is a beauty pageant. TikTok is where kids are free to be mediocre.

There’s a TikTok that’s just a boy saying, “I may be ugly, but at least I’m also … dumb and annoying.” Then he dances while Ariana Grande’s “Successful” plays. It’s extremely funny, and a little bit sad, and I think about it every day.

Kids on TikTok call themselves ugly all the time, most of the time as a joke, but not always, and I’m never sure how I’m supposed to feel about it. “Why do I look like this? What’s the reason?” asked the popular TikToker @emmwee in her car without makeup. “Me being shocked at how ugly I look,” wrote Brittany Tomlinson, better known as the kombucha girl, at one moment in an unrelated video. “I like a boy but I’m ugly, what do I do with that?” sings 18-year-old high school senior David Postlewate, in one TikTok about a highly familiar experience.

David isn’t ugly by any means — none of these kids are — but the internet has created a never-ending conveyor belt of people so bafflingly good-looking that everyone else is immediately rendered ugly by comparison. “I know that I’m not going to look like Benji Krol,” says David, referring to the TikToker with a nest of raven hair and 5.6 million followers. “But I’m my own person, and that’s what makes you beautiful,” he says, not consciously referring to the One Direction song.

The thing about TikTok is that as much as it is a place for teenagers to goof off in their bedrooms, it is also the world’s largest beauty pageant. After all, part of the fun about making TikToks is getting to stare at your face for as long as you want, and if you happen to be very, very beautiful, then other people will enjoy staring at your face, too. A stunningly massive portion of the app is devoted to genetically blessed users, e-boys like Benji Krol and human Barbies like Loren Gray. A scroll through the TikTok’s home For You feed will reveal plenty of content where, despite whatever action is going on in the video, the real takeaway is “I’m hot.”

It is against this backdrop that its inverse, “I’m ugly” culture, has proliferated. Rather than trying to compete for views and likes with the genetically gifted, kids are pivoting to self-deprecation in a way that’s less depressing than it might seem to concerned parents: it’s a reclamation of mediocrity in an online space where everyone else is an overachiever.

17-year-old Annie Pham was satirizing TikTok’s culture of hot people and glow-ups when she made her viral video in late August. Using a popular meme where people would show their “before” selves and their “after” selves on the beat drop, Annie’s instead showed her “before” self trying and failing to transform. “Why isn’t it working?” she complains to the camera. “After like, a week, I was reading the comments, and it was really cool to see how much people relate to it,” she says.

Relatable videos are why people like TikTok in the first place, and feeling unattractive on TikTok is one of the most relatable experiences of all. David, of the “I like a boy but I’m ugly” video, for instance, has a TikTok bio that reads “ugly is my only personality trait.”

David only made the video because that’s what was happening in his life: He liked a boy who he thought was out of his league. (“He’s really cute, he goes to my school. We’re both in theater,” he says.) He describes himself as a “really confident person,” by the way. He just doesn’t take himself all that seriously.

Normal kids have created an entire genre of internet comedy devoted to how constantly seeing exceptional talent and beauty go viral makes the rest of us feel like ugly losers. On my feed I see videos of kids turning the shitty aspects of their lives into funny content: their most embarrassing sports mistakes, hideous childhood photos, dilapidated apartments, unfortunate haircuts, leg nipples, imprisoned parents, disproportionately long thumbs, sexual ineptitude, mental illness. And of course, their minor physical insecurities: girls who feel like they’re asymmetrical, girls who hate their smiles, girls who have a cute, pretty face but a body that “looks like a fucking potato.”

The layers of irony on any social media app that young people are using can be difficult for adults to parse, but when it relates to topics like body image and self-esteem, psychologists take it seriously. “I kind of celebrate what they’re doing — they’re trying to push back on the idea that we all look perfect on social media,” says Sara Frischer, a psychiatric nurse practitioner at Union Square Practice in New York City. “But I think it’s just a little misguided in how they’re doing it. It’s deflection, and it’s self-protective to then make a joke about it. It protects people from feeling vulnerable.” She gives the example of being a bad speller. If you say to yourself that you’re the worst speller in the world, that’s protecting yourself from someone else pointing it out.

But what if you’re just objectively a bad speller? What would true acceptance of that fact even look like? “That’s where self-compassion comes in,” she says. “Saying, ‘This is something I really struggle with, and I just happen to not be such a great speller.’ Having compassion for yourself, talking about how hard it is to struggle with this, and all the emotions involved. It’s adding self-compassion instead of self-deprecation. That’s the missing element.”

“I’m ugly” culture has spread so far on TikTok that now even TikTok’s “pretty people” are co-opting sounds and memes meant for those self-described uglies. That’s given way to a wider culture of policing, wherein those users’ comments sections are flooded with fishing rods to signify that they’re fishing for compliments.

In July, Ryan Sterling, a 23-year-old in the Chicago suburbs who has had alopecia since he was in middle school, uploaded a video that begins with a picture of Britney Spears with a shaved head followed by a picture of Mr. Clean, and then himself: “It all started when my mom met my dad, then they fell in love, and they had me. Hi, I’m Ryan,” he says. “And my life? It’s kinda crazy.”

Within a few weeks, the “Hi, I’m Ryan” video had spawned a massive viral meme, even ending up on a segment of Ellen. But whereas Ryan’s original video made fun of the way he looked, iterations that came after — often where a person would show their two very attractive parents and the punchline was their even more attractive self — were little more than excuses to brag. In September, Ryan posted another TikTok directed at them: “Get off my sound, it’s for ugly people!” he says. “All you pretty-ass people with your pretty parents and your perfect genes, get out of here! We uglies and the balds and the grosses and the ickies, we need to fight back!”

Olivia Chesney, a 19-year-old at Roger Williams University in Rhode Island, was in the middle of homework when she went into the bathroom to make a random video. She’s standing in front of the mirror and asking, “Why do I be looking so good from the front?” Then she turns to the side and bursts out laughing. The joke is that she looks bigger that way, and the video now has more than 2.5 million views.

That video isn’t the only TikTok she’s made about her body, and not all of them are self-deprecating. There’s one where she shows cute photos her friends have taken of her, and another lip synching to the 1958 swing song “The Bigger the Figure.”

Olivia, like all of us, lives in a world where even if you aren’t born skinny, or distractingly gorgeous, or whatever, you’re still supposed to do everything you possibly can to become those things; to starve your body down and add on some lip fillers until you’re deemed presentable. Americans continue to spend more money on plastic surgery and weight loss plans every year, and one study of UK youth showed that Instagram had the worst effect on body image among any social media site. There are an ever-growing number of billion-dollar industries built upon the profits that come from making people feel awful about themselves, even if those products are shrouded in the aesthetics of positivity and empowerment.

Calling yourself ugly on TikTok, then, is a form of freedom from the expectation of hotness. It’s a self-deprecating in-joke that only excludes the extraordinarily beautiful, who could maybe stand to be excluded from something for once.

“I’m ugly” culture on TikTok also obfuscates its happier subtext: That yeah, it’s okay to be ugly, because now you can focus on more important things. Olivia explains this feeling while talking about a video where she calls herself fat: “People who are ugly, people who are fat, it’s just like, why are we trying to hide it anymore? We can still live our lives and be that way.”

It’s not like “ugly” people don’t happy lives or fall in love or get rich or go viral on TikTok. The boy that David sang about? The one he liked? It’s possible that they’re maybe, sort of in the process of getting together.

“If I’m going to be completely honest, and I don’t know yet because things haven’t really been official,” he tells me, “but I think that stuff is starting to happen with him.” It’s all extremely beautiful.

Sign up for The Goods’ newsletter. Twice a week, we’ll send you the best Goods stories exploring what we buy, why we buy it, and why it matters.

from Vox - All https://ift.tt/2O9MEAw

[tonystarktogo]

The “Just the thought of Team Cap walking all over Tony makes me want to trash my room, I just want unashamed, biased, pro-Tony quality content, is that too much to ask??” inspired ficlet I’ve been holding back for a while:

Bitterness ahead, guys. Not Team Cap friendly. Nor is it particularly deep or rational. I just wanted to get a couple of thoughts out of my head. Basically Tony is done being the team’s sugar daddy, only it comes to light in a very roundabout way. 

“When are my arrows gonna be fixed anyways?” Clint grumbles, rubs a hand over his sore shoulder. The one that wouldn’t have gotten injured, had his shot hit the target it was supposed to. Which it should have, his aim had been fine. The problem were the arrows. Someone must have screwed up somewhere in the production because they weren’t perfectly balanced.

They’re sitting in the conference room at the (mostly) restored compound. Tony is tapping away on his StarkPad, not even bothering to look up. He must have felt the questioning glances and noticed the silence, but he still doesn’t react.

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes. He doesn’t want to encourage the tension between them, things are bad enough as it is. If only Tony would put in some effort as well, instead of going out of his way to antagonise them, maybe they could make some actual progress.

“Yo, Stark!” Clint snaps, voice reaching that biting sharpness he reserves specially for the billionaire. “I’m talking to you!”

Tony shows no outward reaction, which is strange to see. Back when they first came back, he used to move at all times, sharp and erratic, never staying still. Steve shakes his head at their unnecessary power play.

Tony answers before he has the chance to reprimand them though. “How would I know?” he asks, a brief frown flittering across his face as he scribbles something down onto the tablet.

The outraged look on Clint’s face tells everyone present that this meeting won’t get back on track any time soon. It’s understandable, really. Clint has been forced to fight three battles with faulty equipment and frankly, the lack of concern Tony is showing for his team mates’ safety is nothing short of callous. Steve knows things haven’t been good between them but this is the first time he wonders if things could really be so bad, that Tony would hold necessary equipment back on purpose.

It’s a terrible thought, but try as he might, Steve isn’t able to shake it off.

At least the rising tension finally causes Tony to look up and meet Clint’s glare. He’s wearing sunglasses even though they’re inside, like he always does. Steve doesn’t like it. Makes it harder to read Tony, to tell what he’s really thinking. Absently, he admits that this is probably why Tony wears them so religiously.

“What do you mean ‘how would you know’?!” Clint snarls, enraged. “My arrows have been acting up for weeks and you still don’t know how to fix it?!”

Tony stares at Clint, the expression on his face unreadable. Then, after a long, long moment of heavy silence, the answer.

“I’m not fixing your equipment.”

For a moment, it’s deadly quiet, as Steve struggles to process the meaning of what Tony has just said.

“Tony,” Steve hastily inserts himself as soon as he finds his voice again, before Clint can throw himself across the room and deck him, “I know there are still some issues we all have to work through, but that’s not an excuse to-”

“Hold it right there, Rogers,” Tony interrupts. It’s never Cap, always Rogers these days. The pain the distinction causes still catches Steve by surprise more often than not. “I’m not sure where you get this from but I’m not your mechanic. I don’t work for you. So if Barton here has an issue with his weapons, he needs to take it up with the people in charge. Considering how often you remind me that it’s not me, you’d think you’d have figured that part out already.”

“But it’s not working!”

Tony sighs. The deep, heavy sort of sigh you usually expect from an exhausted parent after their insistent child asks, “Are we there yet?” for the 34th time. “Then take it up with the quartermaster. Or Agent Hudson. Or one of the techies. Seriously, Barton, you signed the Revision. Who’s responsible for what is right in there, section 12 to 17. Besides-” he pauses.

“What are you waiting for? Go on!” Clint demands between gritted teeth, hands curled into tight fists. Thankfully, he’s not throwing anything. Yet. “Don’t get shy with me now!”

Tony straightens in his seat. Steve inwardly sighs. That man has never been able to let a challenge go unanswered.

“Besides,” Tony continues, voice still surprisingly even, “chances are they’re working just fine.”

“You think I can’t tell when my bow isn’t fucking working the way it should?” Clint bristles.

The words actually cause Tony to lower his sunglasses for a moment, just to make sure there is no doubt about how stupid he believes Clint to be. “I’m saying you’re operating with a standard bow, Barton. The fabric and the construction limit the performance quality. Something I’m sure an experienced archer like yourself has picked up on.”

And yes, things are definitely getting ugly. That level of glacial cold in Tony’s voice is rarely achieved, even now.

“The why the fuck did you build a subpar bow?”

Tony sighs again. “You’re missing the point. Seriously, I can not believe we’re even having this conversation. I did not build that bow, Barton.”

And that’s--that’s a surprise.

Tony’s gaze trails over them all, taking in their confused, shocked expressions. “Really?” he asks, exasperation dripping from every syllable. “Did any of you even read the Revision? The Avengers’ are an official unit. Their weapons and uniforms can’t be provided by a private party, especially not one who is part of the team. Have you ever heard the term conflict of interest?”

“What about Stark Industries?” Natasha asks. From the furrow in her brows though, Steve suspects she already knows the answer--and doesn’t like it one bit.

“I’m not sure if you noticed,” and now there’s no mistaking the mocking in Tony’s tone, “but SI doesn’t sell weapons anymore. It was kind of a big thing, couple of years back.”

“But- But yours are better!” Clint splutters. It sounds plaintive and weak, even in Steve’s ears, but at the same time he knows what Clint’s struggling to say. It’s not about getting your toys taken away. It’s about their safety and efficiency in the field. On bad days, it’s about the survival of their entire planet.

“I can’t believe you would risk the teams’ lives and safety like this because of a petty argument,” Steve says, unable to keep quiet any longer, nor bothering to hide the honest disappointment.

Tony, unimpressed as always, simply snorts. “You’re an official unit, but before that you’ve been working for SHIELD for years. Did you ever have the very best equipment mankind was capable of providing at the time? No,” he answers his own question in a breeze, “you didn’t. Why? Because you’re agents, soldiers. And sure, the government wants to protect us, wants to keep us alive and make sure our missions succeed. But they have limited funding, which means everyone has to deal with the best cost-efficient option available. If you’ve got the right connections to get something more, then lucky you, but that makes you an exception, not a rule.”

“You don’t need to explain real life to me!” Clint snaps aggravated.

“Then why do you feel entitled to something better?” That question, sharp and cutting, makes the archer still, his mouth open but with no retort forthcoming. Tony is blinking at him now, head tilted sideways in child-like curiosity.

“Of course, if I, as a private citizen, decided to build something that doesn’t violate any laws and give it to a friend as a gift, that would be something else, wouldn’t it?” Tony continues after a moment, voice softer now, but no less cutting. His eyes are fixated on Clint, sunglasses pushed back, eyes dark and unmoved. “The average update would take me what, a week or two? That’s a lot of time to invest into a single project, especially when the ultimate use is so limited. How many people can possibly profit from improved protective vest versus how many people improve from an exploding arrow is a really fascinating comparison to make.”

“So you see, Barton, even if I could improve your bow, there’s no logical reason why I should waste my time like this.”

“Tony!” Steve interrupts, scandalised. “Clint’s life depend on his aim! Our lives depend on it! How can you justify not providing him with the most basic necessities.”

Tony doesn’t even try and look abashed, instead he throws his head back and laughs. “This is how you want to play it, Rogers? Because I’m rich and a genius, I owe it to you to devote my time, attention and money to bettering your lives? What about the seven billion other people on this world? Don’t they deserve the same consideration, hm? What makes you so special that I should put your needs before anything else?”

Steve opens his mouth, but Tony doesn’t give him a chance to speak.

“I tell you what this is: this is you realising I’m no longer spoiling you rotten because you are in fact not my kids and I can cut you off whenever the fuck I want. And you don’t like it. Because guess what, I may be privileged, but so are you! You’re heroes, most of the time, as far as the world is concerned. You’ve been living off my money and resources on top of that. You’ve always gotten special treatment and you like that. You’re as far detached from the ‘ordinary man on the street’ as I am, you just don’t have the self-awareness to fucking notice!”

Tony sends them a sardonic smile that does in no way take the sting out of his words. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you’ll still be special. It’s just no longer my name footing that bill. Because we’re not friends. And as a business man, I’m not at all sorry to tell you that you simply aren’t worth investing into.”

And with that he stands, all blinding press smile, sweeps around dramatically, and strides purposefully out of the room. The automatic door closes noiselessly behind him, but he might have as well slammed it shut for all the difference it would’ve made.

It’s likely not a coincidence, that on their next mission Spiderman, Vision and Miss Marvel all showcase new, incredibly features and weapons that can’t have been created by anyone else. And it’s impossible to know for sure, what with the mask on, but Steve is one hundred per cent certain that Spiderman is smirking at them.

He is not wrong.

Let me know what you think? And please excuse any mistakes, I’ll re-read this tomorrow. Also this is the last post for today. I’m tiredtiredtired now and think I’ve spread enough bitterness for the day. And spammed your dashes with enough endless posts probably...oops.

[pjxmin]

PARTS: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // epilogue Pairing: Jimin x reader Words: 7,760 Genre: smut, angst, supernatural au. ↳ click here for warnings by part (potential spoilers).

When playing the lying game, there are but two rules. The first is to be convincing. Live the lie, breathe the lie, believe it so wholeheartedly it becomes your new truth. The second is to always remember there are other players in the game, some of whom have been playing it far longer than you.

Time always seemed to go slowly for you. It has always consisted of a lot of waiting, searching, and more waiting. Waiting for leads, waiting for information, waiting for days to turn into weeks, into months, into years. Every day began to seem the same, and the most exciting moments have been those when you're risking your life. Kind of fucked up, but true.

Recently, though, this has changed. Jimin has changed everything. Somehow, time has passed in a blur of meet ups, of laughter, of actually leaving the safety of the church and experiencing the things the world has to offer. Jimin makes you see the beauty in the mundane and take a look at things you've experienced hundreds of times through a different set of eyes. Suddenly, just walking in silence takes on a whole new meaning with him beside you, or even popping by a fast food joint becomes a billion times more interesting as you watch him dunk his french fries into a milkshake (a strange combination that he has tried to make you enjoy, but failed).

Time both seems to go too slow when you're apart and too fast when you're together. One instance, you were both talking until the early hours of the morning at his place, only realizing the time at 4AM. You stayed the night, sleeping in his guest room, just a few steps away from his bedroom. You didn't get any sleep, of course, despite how incredibly comfortable the bed was. He offered to drive you "home" (a fake address to an apartment just across town from him), but you insisted on walking. Your mind buzzed the entire way home, trying to understand what this new friendship meant and how it would affect your mission to avenge your parents. You've been distracted, but you're enjoying it. Possibly more than you should. You've been making stupid, half thought through decisions, and there's no room for those kinds of mistakes in a life like yours.

Mistake number one manifested as a mobile phone. A cheap one from the grocery store, but a phone nonetheless. You've never had one and you wouldn't have the first clue how to use it, but you bought it on a whim. The realization of what you'd done hit you when you were driving back to the church and were struck with distraught feelings you've never felt before. How could you be so reckless? Just for a boy? The two of you have gotten along just fine without calling or texting, there's no need to change anything now. Jimin understood your 'explanation' for not owning a phone. You'd justified it with a "It just makes me feel too connected. People used to get by just fine without them. There are so many beautiful things to experience in the world, I don't want to miss any of it because of some dumb little screen." Sure, the excuse sounds a bit lame, but there must be people out there who think that way and genuinely do wish to escape the crazy technological world.

Nothing bad happened as a result of your rash decision, but you did drive all the way back to town and leave the phone, along with twenty dollars, beside a sleeping figure in the park.

Hoseok returns from his trip after four weeks, bearing new supplies, weapons, but no information. You want to tell him about Jimin right away, but you're not sure what his reaction will be. And a part of you wants to keep this as something that's just yours, just for a little longer. You're okay with sharing everything with Hoseok, but you know that the moment you do, this thing with Jimin becomes reality. It'll become something you have to discuss and understand in terms of The Bigger Picture, and you're not quite ready for that yet.

You're sure that Hoseok suspects something. Of course he does. There's no other reason for you to be away so long and then not share what happened or what you did. Hoseok isn't stupid. But you appreciate that he's giving you time to come to terms with everything before telling him. You do know, however, that you can't wait forever. Eventually Hoseok will confront you about what's going on, and you'll have to tell him, but for now any confessions are on your terms. You promise yourself that you'll tell him within the next month. You just need a little longer to pretend that Jimin and your world are completely disconnected, to just enjoy being with him without worrying about the what ifs. Whenever your thoughts stray towards those what ifs, you can't stop thinking about them. There is no way you can continue to see Jimin and lead your own secret life. You either have to find a way to reconcile the two, or decide which to give up.

Jimin asks about your family one day while the two of you are playing Monopoly (a game you've learned to kick his ass in, and he's complained that he "never should have taught you how to play this dumb game") and you tell him the truth. Or at least as much of the truth as you can.

"My mom and dad were absolutely amazing. I always felt so loved and special because of them, as any kid should. They were the best parents in the world." You shake the dice in your hands and let them clatter on the board, knocking over one of your houses in the process. "Then again, everyone thinks their parents are the best. But, god, were they in love. Something in the air just changed whenever they looked at eachother. I always hoped that I would someday be able to experience love like that."

"Are they...?”

"Dead? Yeah. They passed away when I was small," you say as you move your piece up five steps, right onto one of his squares with a hotel on it. "Damn it." Handing him an obscene amount of money notes, you continue. "I was taken in by someone who had known the family for years and I couldn't be more grateful to him for everything he's done for me." Technically Hoseok had known about your family, just not in a positive way. But Jimin doesn’t need to know that.

"There still are some good people left in the world… I'm so sorry about your parents, Sooyoung."

You shake your head and avoid his eyes, feeling ashamed for the way you still have to conceal the truth from him. Every time he calls you Sooyoung you try to ignore the guilt that gnaws at your heart for continuing to lie to him. "It's okay, I had to accept the way things were a long time ago. You learn to live and let go." Another lie. You try to shift the subject away from you and your lying ass. "What about you? What's your family like?"

This time he glances down, throwing the dice, a bit harder than he usually does so one rolls underneath your leg. You lift it to reveal a three then move it to the centre of the board.

"Complicated is the best way to put it, I guess. Dad's… Dad. Sorry, that doesn't make sense. When I used to live with him he'd be so busy that he'd rarely be home, and when he was he never really seemed to be there. But it's fine. Like you, I accepted the way things were a long time ago and moved the hell out as soon as I could. I think I turned out just fine, despite everything."

"Yeah, you're not too bad," you say, which earns you a smile. "How are things with your mom?"

You wish you could take the question back the moment you see his face fall. He tries to cover it, acting like the question doesn't hit him somewhere in his heart where it aches like a splinter lodged too deep to pull out, but you notice anyway. You learned to read people's expressions, no matter how subtle, a long time ago. 

"She's not around anymore. I see her every now and then, but she doesn't live with us."

"I'm sorry, Jimin."

He forces a smile, which only breaks your heart even more. "Life happens, right?" He holds up a card in his hand, indicating the discussion is over. "'Make general repairs on all your property. For each house pay $25, for each hotel pay $100.' Fuck this game."

When you finally go home, you decide it's time to tell Hoseok. For the first time in a while you're actually nervous to divulge something to him. He can tell. The moment you step foot into the bunker, he takes a look at you and sits down on the couch, eyeing you carefully. He doesn't speak, waiting for you to go first. You don't sit down, instead you pace around the room, chewing your lip. He was clearly working on something since there are books strewn across the room, papers piled on the table.

You're afraid to voice your thoughts because once you start, you might not stop. All the way home, you kept thinking about what it might be like to live a life where playing Monopoly with Jimin could be some weekly ritual, where you could take him to meet Hoseok without having to lie about where you live and just about every other aspect of your life. You kept thinking about what it might feel like to be normal and to not have any what ifs. To be able to see Jimin and not worry about maybe having to say goodbye to him forever out of fear that he might get killed or you might neglect him because of your mission. You wondered what it would be like to live a life where you could truly open your heart to someone without constantly waiting for it to be shattered. 

Finally, you just blurt it out.

"I met someone."

Hoseok nods, but again doesn't speak.

"We met in the woods, while you were away. He was lost, and I know that the right thing to do would have been to bail, but I just couldn't." You struggle to find the words to explain to him why you didn't turn around and follow your instincts. You've been trained for this. There have been one too many times when you've had to turn around and leave someone behind, regardless of how much you wanted to stay and help. You've overridden that urge that makes people human. There was even an instance when you had to leave Hoseok behind. It ripped you apart, abandoning him when he was hurt. But he made you leave, and thankfully survived. If you could somehow leave Hoseok behind, you should be able to leave anyone else. And yet, with Jimin you couldn’t. If you could have re-done that whole situation again, you're sure that you would still do the same thing. You would stay.

"I'm tired, Hobi," you finally admit. "I'm tired of hiding away and not experiencing the things people my age have probably experienced a billion times already. I love you and I love spending time with you, but, I just wanted to know what it might feel like to have someone in my life who isn't family and who I don't live with."

Hoseok is smiling, which confuses the hell out of you. This is not how you expected him to react. "What? What did I say?"

He shakes his head and pats the space beside him, prompting you to sit down. This time you do. "You look like you're waiting for me to get angry," he says. "I'm not, not even a little bit. You were bound to want more than the life you have at some point. I'm happy you met someone."

 You struggle for words in your stupour. This is not the way you imagined things going. "You're happy? Aren't you worried?"

"I know you, Y/N. You have good instincts, so I trust you. I've been hoping this day would come for a while now. You deserve more of a life than this church can offer you. Get out there and make some mistakes. That's life."

 You raise your eyebrows. "Make some mistakes?"

He laughs. "I don't mean blow our cover. I mean mistakes that any other average human being would make. People learn best from the dumb things they do. All I ask is that you be careful, alright?"

"Yeah, of course, I haven't told him about any of this," you gesture around the bunker, "Or about--"

"Not just that," he interrupts, gently. "Be careful with your heart. No matter what, you need to put yourself first. If anything ever feels wrong, trust your gut. You're smart, you'll know what's right or wrong. Don't allow yourself to be pressured into anything you're uncomfortable with, and don't let yourself be treated in any way you don't deserve."

"Okay, I promise to be careful. But just so you know, Jimin isn't like that. I can tell. He wouldn't do anything to hurt me."

Hoseok rests a hand on your arm gently. "At the end of the day, each and every one of us is capable of anything. All of us have secrets, and all of us have flaws. Just keep that in mind. But, you know, don't forget to have fun. Be careful, but allow yourself to let go. You've more than earned it."

You put your hand over his and give it a squeeze. "Thanks, Hobi."

The conversation gives you a new sense of strength, and just for a second, you allow yourself to believe that maybe everything will work out.

Three days after your talk with Hoseok, you wait outside the building of your fake address, anxious to see Jimin. The conversation with Hoseok has made you even more excited to see him. The two of you had worked out a solution to you not owning a phone, so that if a meet up didn't work out, you would see eachother the next day in the same place at the same time. Neither of you have ever had to flake on set plans, but it's nice to have a backup nonetheless.

Jimin is late. He's never late, which means that you always have to come much earlier so he doesn't suspect that you don't actually live here. The apartment you chose has a key code, which means that there's no way he can actually come inside unless you let him in. Which also means that he's less likely to find out that you don't live here. To find out the code to let you in, you tagged behind someone who lives in the apartment and dug around in your bag as though searching for your keys, all the while watching them enter in the code before slipping inside. They were even kind enough to hold the door open for you to let you in. Some people are just too helpful for their own good. 

You scan the area, trying to spot Jimin's familiar face, but he's nowhere in sight. Ten minutes pass, fifteen, twenty, then thirty. You bob up and down on your feet, getting more and more restless by the second.

Eventually you have to accept that he's not coming. You ignore the dejected feeling in your chest and remind yourself that sometimes life happens. You'll see him tomorrow and everything will be fine.

You drive home and suppress the urge to drive back and keep waiting. Maybe he'll come. Maybe he got held up, but planned on coming anyway, just in case you were still there. You don't turn back. You have your own stuff to do anyway. You have to respect yourself enough to remember that before him, you did have a life. Maybe it wasn't much of a life, but you still had one. You can't just throw all of that away just for one person. You can't constantly be waiting around and putting everything else on pause. That's not healthy.

So you drive home and greet Hoseok, who you hadn't seen in the morning before leaving since he was out tending the garden (you assume that's where he was). He looks a bit surprised to see you back early, but doesn't question it. The two of you are going to have to adjust to the idea of you seeing people. After so many years of it being just the two of you, this is totally new. Or at least to you it is. Sometimes you have to remind yourself that Hoseok has been around for much longer than you. Before this, he probably had friends and hobbies. He probably didn't spend all of his time watching his back and watching yours for good measure. Every time you remember this, your heart swells both with sadness for the past life he gave up for you, but also swells with immense gratitude that you will never be able to properly express to him. You hope that after this he is able to live life the way he deserves. To surround himself with people who bring as much light to the world as he does, rather than have to extinguish that flame in the underground bunker day in and day out purely to keep you safe. The older you get -- the more time that passes without enough progress -- the more guilty you feel for holding him back. But you have to remind yourself that you're not forcing him to stay, that he's an adult capable of making his own decisions, and sticking around to help you kick butt was the one he made. You wouldn't hold it against him for a second if he decided he wanted more than what this life has to offer.

"You busy?" You ask.

 He closes the book on selkies he was reading. "Nope, what's up?"

"Is it okay if we train for a bit? I'm feeling a bit rusty."

"Yeah, of course. Inside or outside?"

"Outside."

You both change into more comfortable clothing, grab a blindfold (which is really just a strip of black cloth from one of your old shirts) and head out of the bunker. You need to release some energy and get some training in since you've been missing out on it recently because of how much time you spend with Jimin.

There's a slight chill in the air and you hug your arms around yourself to conserve heat, but you know that after a while of sparring you'll be warm enough to forget about the cold.

You make way into the forest, to a spot just far enough from the road that if anyone is passing by they won't hear anything and come looking. When you practice shooting, you go even further. The risk is small, but it's easier to talk precautions than to try to explain what you're doing to a complete stranger.

"You wanna do it blindfolded?" He gestures to the cloth in your hand. Every now and then you remain blindfolded while sparring Hoseok, in order to try to hear him before he comes at you. Sometimes it goes okay, but usually you end up on your ass and with ten new bruises on your body. But you keep doing it, because no matter how good you get, you will always be at a disadvantage if you're up against a supernatural being. There's only so much your human body can do, so you need to be able to predict your opponent's moves before they've even finished thinking them through. You need to be one step ahead in a dance where you're always three steps behind. The blindfold isn't completely opaque, but it's dark enough that it feels like it's night time, and all figures are nothing more than silhouettes.

"Yeah, I'm a bit out of practice. Could you use your abilities today? Please?"

 He deliberates, silence hanging between you, before he finally concedes. "Alright. Tell me to stop the second it gets too much." You nod and tie the blindfold around your eyes, plunging the world into darkness. You steel yourself for what's to come, your nerves already in overdrive from anticipation. You would trust Hoseok with your life, but that doesn't make experiencing his abilities any more pleasant.

"Do your worst," you say, lifting your balled fists and shifting your feet so you're ready to spring at him at any second. You listen carefully for footsteps padding over grass, the snap of a twig, a breath against your ear. It's not enough to hear, it's important to pinpoint where the noise is coming from and act.

There's a light crunch behind you and you whip around, swinging but making no contact. Another sounds just nearby you, but again nothing. Sometimes Hoseok fools you and makes you think he's somewhere where he isn't, which is infuriating, but keeps you on your toes. The bad guys aren't going to stop when you tell them to stop.

Something in your gut tells you he's to your left, like that burning feeling you get when you know somebody is watching you, so you target a blow in that direction and strike Hoseok. Your body buzzes with adrenaline and you feel proud of yourself for being right about your hunch, but this is no time to get distracted, so you let your body react, punching and blocking while shuffling back and forth across the forest floor. He may have the advantage of sight, but you're the better fighter so you're faster, albeit slightly clumsy. Just when you think you might overpower him, he invades your mind and tears down your defenses. You fight him, remembering all the lessons from before, just barely managing to throw up walls before he crashes through them.

And then it stops.

A thud and a groan follow, and you promptly tear the blindfold off, squinting as your eyes adjust back to the light. Then you see red. Red everywhere. Your hands are covered in blood, Hoseok lying at your feet, his face deformed and wounded, hand pressed tightly against the spreading scarlet on his shirt.

"What the hell did you do to me?" he chokes out.

You completely forget about the training. "Hoseok, what--”

“You did this to me.” His face contorts in pain and you drop to your knees to pull his hand away, to assess the damage so you can help him, but he swats you away. "You did this." he keeps saying.

"Hobi, no," you say, heart pounding in your chest. "Please let me help you. You're bleeding."

He laughs, humourlessly. "So are they."

You don't want to turn around, but you do, and you suck in a sharp breath at the sight before you. Your mother and father lie lifeless on the cold ground, clothing drenched in their own blood. Almost the entirety of your father's skin has been badly burned, but you'd recognize him anywhere. A sob lodges itself in your throat, but you can't lose it or else you'll never gather yourself again.

"Wh-what happened?" You crawl over to them and shake them desperately. Maybe this time they won't leave you. Maybe this time you'll have a chance to actually save them. Something twinges in the back of your mind that this isn't right, something is off here, and you're just about to grasp reality again when you hear another groan further away, and your body goes ice cold.

Jimin is drawing in painful, heavy breaths, but he's still standing. Blood blooms across his green sweater and he looks at you with so much hatred it makes your insides curl. "You did this. You killed us all."

You stumble over to him but he steps back, holding up a hand to prevent you from coming any closer. "Don't come near me. You're a liar. This entire time. A cold-blooded killer. I wish I'd never met you. None of this would be happening if not for you." He takes another step back and falls over, wincing at the way his body hits the ground. You ignore his protests and crouch beside him, trying to push his sweater aside to prevent the bleeding, but he fights against you, repeating over and over that this is because of you, just like Hoseok had.

"You know," Jimin begins, his voice strained, "It's a shame the Alpha didn't get you too. Would've spared us all. He should have gotten your parents and you."

The words cut deep in a place you never knew you could ache before. Your entire body begins to tremble, but you're not sure from what. Fear, maybe. Anger. If he were anyone else, they would be dead within a heartbeat for saying something like that, but instead you pull off your top and press it against the wound. Blood quickly stains the cloth and you know there's not much longer left for him. You scream for help, praying that for once there might be somebody nearby with a phone to call an ambulance. You scream and scream while Jimin laughs, his face growing paler by the second.

"You couldn't save your parents, what makes you think you could save me?"

"I won't let you die. I won't let anyone else die because of me," you say, your body trembling even more now.

And then he's gone. They're all gone and you're on your knees, hands completely clean, hovering in the air where they were touching Jimin just seconds ago. Reality always takes time to come back to you, but this time you lost yourself more than you usually do, and so the divide between truth and illusion doesn't come back as fast as it should. Jimin was right here, dying in front of you, and he wanted nothing to do with you. None of them did.

"Y/N," Hoseok rushes to your side and you startle, staring at him. He's unwounded, safe. Alive. "Y/N, I'm here. I got you."

It takes you a second to realize that everything was part of the hallucination, that nothing that just transpired was real. The relief hits you like a freight train, but another feeling gnaws at your stomach because you can't help but wonder if maybe there was some truth to your nightmare.

"Why did you stop?"

Hoseok is looking at you with so much concern and you don't understand why. Eventually you would have figured out what was going on and the practice could have continued. Your body hadn't reached its maximum limit, not even by a little bit. But Hoseok doesn't answer, instead pulls you to him and holds you so gently like you might shatter from the slightest amount of pressure. It's only then that you realize you're crying. He keeps you safely enclosed in his arms, only letting go when your body cools down and starts shivering from the cold.

"Come on," he says, lifting you up slowly and guiding you back to the church. He keeps a hand against your back the entire way, and you're sure that if it weren't there, you would probably fall apart.

 Once indoors, you get in the shower and turn the heat up high so its almost scalding. You scrub at yourself vigorously, trying to erase the memory clinging to your skin of what had happened. Or didn't happen. Your skin is rubbed red and raw when you emerge, but it still doesn't feel like enough. There might not be any blood on your hands, but you can still feel it, coating your skin like the remorse festering in your heart.

Hoseok holds out a cup of chamomile tea once you get out and you accept it gratefully.

"How are you feeling?" He asks.

You shrug, sitting down on the floor, back against the wall.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N." Hoseok drops his gaze in shame. "I should have said no-"

"Hobi, stop," you intercede. "I asked. It's okay. We both knew it wouldn't end well. I don't know what happened out there, usually I'm in more control than that. It's not your fault, it's mine. I'm sorry if you felt pressured into something you didn't want to do, though. I know you don't like using your abilities, I'm sorry you had to do that." 

"I'll dial it back next time." You know even that was tame for what he can do, but you don't say anything. "Do you want to talk about what you saw?"

You set the tea down on the floor and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. The last thing you want to do is think about what you saw, but talking it out does help sometimes. Sometimes you just need to be alone to grieve. Usually you try talking it out, something Hoseok has encouraged you many times to do so whatever is bothering you doesn't keep chipping away at you so there's more to work through than there needs to be.

 "The usual. But it was different this time. Jimin was there too." Your cheeks heat up admitting this and you're not quite ready to ponder over the depth of what it means that he was there too. "There was blood, everywhere. I think-I think I did it. I don't know. You all kept saying I did. That it was my fault." Emotion swells in your throat again and you clear it forcefully, unwilling to cry yet again. Crying is good, but you don't like the gross, puffy feeling that comes afterward that lingers for hours on end. "Maybe you were right, to an extent. Or at least, Jimin was right. He called me a liar. He called me lots of things, actually. And deny it as much as I want, I am lying to him, every single day. What if one of these days he finds out? Or what if one of my lies catches up to me and hurts him? What then?"

Hoseok sits down in front of you and takes your hands. Somehow, Hoseok still has a response to put you at ease, just like always. "You can never predict who is going to get hurt in this world, so you just… Have to trust yourself. Let yourself live a little. Sometimes… Sometimes people are worth the risk. Even if he finds out some day, who's to say he won't understand?" He reaches out and lifts your chin so you look at him. His warm smile makes some of the worry you feel subside, and this time you feel yourself getting emotional for another reason.

"People will surprise you. If he cares enough about you, he'll be willing to look deeper, past the things you've done. If he can't do that, then he'll be losing someone absolutely incredible, and that's the greater misfortune in this case," he says.

"I'm so scared," you whisper, averting your gaze to your lap. "Sometimes I wonder if this is all worth it. I'm always so scared that one day I'm going to lose you or Jimin, just because of this mission. My parents aren't coming back. They're dead and staying dead, even if we succeed. But when I think about giving up it just… They deserve vengeance. I can't let them go like that. Not when we've both risked so much and tried so hard."

Hoseok rubs his thumb in circles over the back of your palm, a gesture that somehow helps ground you. "I'm not going anywhere, and there's no need to ever worry about me, alright? If anything ever happened, I would be fine. If you want to continue fighting, we'll fight. If you want to let this mission go, we'll let it go. And in terms of Jimin, you're doing what you can to protect him. If you think it's right to let him go, then do what you have to do. But don't let him go because you're afraid. Only do what you think is the smart move. If… If you feel the need to tell him about everything that we're doing and what we are, then I won't hold it against you."

 This really surprises you. "You'd be okay with that?"

"If you thought that was a necessary choice to make, then yes. Of course."

"You know you're the best, right?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "I try. Now, come on, let's turn that frown upside down. Get in your PJs and we'll watch whatever movie you want. I'll make popcorn."

You end up watching a depressing romance movie, which has you sobbing by the end, and you're sure you catch Hoseok trying to discreetly wipe away a tear at some point. It feels good to have a release like that, even though you're just crying over a movie. 

Neither of you has the energy to move off the couch after the movie, so you lie your head down on Hoseok's lap, and the two of you talk for a while until your responses become slower and eventually you're both in dreamland. You doze restlessly (as one does when they're sleeping on somebody else) and after a couple hours force yourself to get up and get in bed. Hoseok opens his eyes, looking at you groggily before passing out once more.

You don't dream, thankfully, because you're sure if you had they would probably be nightmares. When you wake up, the guilt hits you again like a shit ton of bricks. You pull your pillow over your head, pressing it tightly against you, hoping that maybe you could squeeze it out of your body, even though the thought is completely ridiculous. You try to go back to sleep so that maybe you won't have to think about it, but once you're up, you're up. So you haul yourself out of bed and eat breakfast, talk to Hoseok, and do everything you normally would do. You refuse to just hole up and let your feelings rot and stink up your head. You have to keep yourself busy.

Hoseok suggests going for a walk, and you almost can't get your shoes on fast enough. You know you're supposed to meet with Jimin today since he wasn't able to make it the day before and any other day you would be out the door, leaving a trail of fire behind you from excitement. But today is different. You knew since yesterday that you wouldn't be going. Which makes you feel worse, but you need time to yourself. Reality is beginning to catch up to you and run as you might it's going to gain on you eventually and force you to make a choice. Do you accept the risks of keeping Jimin in your life, or do you walk away now before either of you gets too attached? The thought of having to cut him off hurts. He's the first friend you've ever had and you honestly feel like the luckiest person in the world to have the privilege of knowing him. 

A part of you hopes that whatever kept Jimin busy yesterday keeps him busy today too so he doesn't end up waiting for you, only for you not to show up. Hoseok falls into step beside you. The autumn air has a bite to it, but you're glad because it keeps you alert and ready for anything. It also calms your mind and you can stop thinking, just for a little bit. Neither of you really has a destination in mind, which is fine. You probably won't end up going very far since you're on foot and you don't want to completely abandon everything. You just need a temporary escape to get your head on straight. Eventually you have to face the music and tackle reality, but for now you focus on the chill in the air, the damp grass under your feet, and Hoseok's familiar stride beside you.

"Has this place changed much since the first time we came here?" You suddenly ask him.

Hoseok looks around and you wonder what he sees. You can't remember much of the journey to the church since you were so young. The days had blended together in a haze of grief and foreign sights -- places that extended far past the boundary around your home that your parents laid out for you. You wonder what the experience had been like for him and whether it's tainted by the same things, or if he saw it as the beginning of something new and exciting.

Sometimes you think that you adopted the same precautions your parents did; after all, you established boundaries for yourself. Boundaries around the church and boundaries around your heart that nobody could slip through. Well, until Jimin.

"Everything changes," Hoseok says. "That's just a part of life. But the forest has always felt the same. Every now and then I'm reminded of when I found you. Especially around this time of year. " He looks at you. "We've changed. For the better, mostly. I'm proud of you, you know. Even after everything you've been through, you became the strongest, bravest, kindest person I know."

"Thanks, Hobi," you say, nudging him a little. "Would you ever re-do it all? You had a life before this and then all of a sudden you had this kid to take care of. Do you ever regret it?"

He shakes his head. "Never. If I had to re-do my decision, I would choose the same path again. I will never regret you."

While you’re on the subject, you ask a question that you almost steer clear of. There’s almost an unspoken rule that the subject is to never be brought up. The moment feels right, so you take the risk, even though you know chances are he'll avoid answering and switch to another subject. "Do you ever think about your family?"  

"You are my family."

"Hoseok."

He hesitates and for a second you think he's going to end the conversation there. It's rare for Hoseok to open up fully about his family, so when he does, you treasure the moments deeply. He's open about pretty much everything in life, apart from what happened in his past. All you know is that his family is dead, but he never gets into the details. There's so much you don't know about him, about the Dark Court he fled and why he fled. Whenever you try to broach the topic with him, he shuts it down in two seconds flat. So you proceed with caution. You want to know more about him, to understand him better, but you know that if you say the wrong thing, the moment will be over. He won't open up like this again for a long time.

"No, I try not to."

"Do you miss them?"

"No."

 "No?"

 "After the things they did… I don't know how I could."

You chew on your lip, facing forward, not daring to look at him. If you do, he might get uncomfortable and stop talking. You're not only glad that he's opening up to you, but you're also glad that he's finally, maybe, going to talk about it. It's not hard to tell that he has tried to bury dark secrets, and you know how that can feel. You know how secrets can eat you alive if you don't talk about them.

 "What happened?" You prompt him carefully.

You glance over at him, briefly to check his expression, and see something in his eyes shift, the way people get when they're transported to another time, not quite seeing what's in front of them.

"I fell in love with a boy from the Summer Court. We kept our relationship a secret, because we knew that if anybody found out, all hell would break loose. The Dark Court only has enemies, never allies. They are always ready for war. The fuse is ready, somebody just needs to give them an excuse to light it. But the Summer Court will do anything to avoid war. I was one of the Queen's personal guards and he was the heir to the Summer King's throne. It would be the ultimate betrayal.

"I wanted out of the Dark Court, but there was no way I could do it alone. We both knew we had to involve as few people as possible and keep things quiet since it was such a huge risk. And honestly, I would have taken all the risks just to be with him. He was worth that. But I made the mistake of turning to my family for help. They turned us in, he was killed along with the rest of them, and so the war between the Summer and Dark Court began.”

"Hoseok, I'm so sorry," you say. "I can't believe they would do something so horrible to you."

He lets out a deep sigh, as though he were finally letting out all the air he'd been holding inside himself for years. "They thought they were doing the right thing. It’s awful, but that's the way Dark fey think. Things work differently for us. For them. There is no such thing as mercy, which makes them very dangerous. If you ever come across Dark fey, promise me you'll run like hell. Don't fight, don't try to reason with them. Run as fast as you can and don't look back."

"I will." Hoseok taught you many years ago what Dark fey look like, assuring you that if you ever saw one, you'd know it was Dark fey without a shadow of a doubt. Dark fey's appearance takes on the form of everything they believe in. Nightmares, darkness, death. Their exterior is disfigured and everything on the inside, everything they stand for, mirrors the outside. You once asked Hoseok why he doesn't look like Dark fey. If he hadn't told you, you would've never known what he was. He told you he made a deal with the Summer King, who would rid Hoseok of his physical atrocities in exchange for information about the Dark Court that might help with the war. Now that you know more of the story, you look at Hoseok in a new light. To go to the Summer Court was a big risk and they could have easily turned him away. You now understand the pained expression he had when he told you all of this years ago. Though you want to tell him that none of this is his fault, that had his family not done what they did this would never have happened, you think it wouldn't help, so you leave it. You just hope that in the future if he needs to talk, he knows that you're ready to listen.

As you walk further, you think over his story, trying to find the silver lining. Something about it gives you hope. If a Summer and a Dark faerie could somehow manage to overcome their differences and love one another wholeheartedly, what's to say Jimin couldn't accept you? Sure, he comes from the human world where supernatural things aren't exactly 'normal', but hopefully he would be able to see it in himself to try and see things from your point of view. Purely in a platonic sense, of course. If things ever come to that.

As you walk, Hoseok tells you a bit more about the Dark Court, about the wonderful things he learned about the Summer Court, about the boy he had fallen in love with. You wish you could have seen Hoseok back then. Seen the happiness that must have lit up his face when he was with the boy. You want to close the subject on a good note, ending with happy memories rather than sad ones, so you ask him what it felt like to be in love. 

 A tiny smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he undoubtedly recalls fond memories from the past. Bingo. "It felt like light had been restored to the world. His laughter could make flowers bloom and his smile… I lived for that smile. I would have given anything just for him to be happy every day of his life. He made me want to be a better person. Somehow he saw through all the darkness and all the horrors that made me who I was. He helped me see myself for who I could be.

"Anything that happened, he would be the first person I wanted to tell. I wanted to share my life with him. Every detail of it. Every time I looked at him, my heart felt like it might burst from all the love it was carrying. He changed my life and I'll never forget him. You never forget your first love." Hoseok's glazed over eyes seem to clear and you can tell he's coming back to reality. "He taught me a lot of important lessons and he taught me that not everybody always needs to have an ulterior motive when doing something. People should be willing to lend a hand in exchange for nothing, to help without being owed anything in return. He was that kind of person. He gave so much of himself to the world, and he had so much more to give--"

He breaks off, going completely still. "Did you hear that?"

You frown. "No, what?"

His eyes flick around the forest and you both strain to hear whatever he just heard. You don't say anything in case there is someone out there and it draws attention to you. Of course, neither of you is doing anything wrong, but you can never really tell who your friends and who your enemies are. There could either be an innocent hiker out there, or somebody you've upset along the way with your mission. But the silence stretches on and you're beginning to think that maybe Hoseok heard a bird or something.

Then everything explodes in a sea of sound. Gunshots split the air and Hoseok is yelling at you to run. You draw the gun out from your pocket, shooting without aiming in any particular direction. You can't see who is shooting, which puts you at a severe disadvantage.

 A bullet grazes your leg and you nearly trip over, but you manage to catch yourself just in time. Hoseok shouts your name and you spin around to face him. You didn't realize how far he was. "Behind you!"

You don't have time to react, to so much as see your captor before everything goes black.

[fandomverseofanthony]

Fallout OC - Guile - Complete Character Sheet & Info

The creepy part about this OC, was I got the idea for him from a dream, that I ended up turning into the short story of how he is introduced.

"I've seen a lot of crazy cases in my day, but this one takes the cake..." - Nick Valentine

CASE: The Broker

Word's going around that there's a new player in town. Someone going around offering to right the wrongs of people's past... for a price. Dubbed "The Broker", I thought they were a mercenary for hire, taking on hits for people, but apparently their "services" are more than just a euphemism. Some say that this stranger can mess around with reality itself.

Usually I wouldn't put much stock into such wild stories, but the growing number of sightings make it seem like their might be a bit of truth to them. Doesn't hurt that each sketch artist drawing from witness accounts pegs the same guy. Although they haven't caused any real trouble that anyone knows of, yet, better to play it safe than sorry, and keep an eye out for this one.

DESCRIPTION

Human male, typically seen wearing a nice black suit and vest, with white dress shirt underneath. Short, slicked back, black hair and a five o'clock shadow. Always seen with a pristine gold pocket watch.

(image created by @doemaarwiebele )

This is where things take a real turn for the weird...

Some witnesses claim that "The Broker" isn't really human, that they're some kind of monster out of a bad nightmare. They assume a human form, as to not scare off potential clients. One witness even went as far as to claim that his skin was as black as tar, covered in countless different mouths, tendrils coming out of their body. Granted, that testimony came from a local junkie that's usually higher than the cost of real estate in the Upper Stands.

HOLOTAPE 1

Nick Valentine: Alright, now just repeat what you've already told me about this "Broker" character.

Anthony: I was on my way to visit Goody, in Salem, when I found myself surrounded by this... darkness. Couldn't see even a few feet in front of my face. That's when he appeared, trying to offer me a deal.

Nick Valentine: What kind of deal, exactly?

Anthony: Somehow he knew about my past, all of it. He knew all of the details of Vault 430, and how I still feel guilty for what went on there. He offered to change all of that, in exchange for never meeting Alaelys, or even remembering who she is. I refused the deal, a little more violently than I probably should have, and that's when he morphed into this giant... abomination!

Nick Valentine: Kid, now we've both seen some things that either of us would have a hard time explaining, but you gotta understand how crazy this all sounds.

Anthony: Yeah, I know. I'd question my own sanity too, but I'm telling you it wasn't just some dream! Here, look!

Nick Valentine: A gold pocket watch, in perfect condition. Hm... Where did you find this?

Anthony: It was left on my workbench, but nobody in the Rexford saw anyone go anywhere near Alaelys and my room while we were sleeping. It's the same watch that "he" was carrying...

HOLOTAPE 2

(Holotape dialogue created by @spacialkiwi)

Trish: Wait, you’re recording that? Oh shit, don’t tell me that guy was a serial killer, or something because I-

Nick Valentine: Just tell me what you know about him…

Trish: Ok, so I was walking back to the Third Rail after I went to grab my wedding planning notes for Maggie to see and… Oh! You know you’re invited to the wedding, right? I’d be so glad to see you there!

Nick Valentine: *sigh* I will Trish, but focus. What did you see?

Trish: So, on the way to the Rail, I bumped into a very well dressed man, almost like a Triggerman, but very clean, you see? I apologized, and he asked me something that made me kinda scared.

Nick Valentine: A deal?

Trish: No. He just looked at me and asked me: “Don’t you miss your sister?” I don’t think I mentioned anything about Gloria to him. I never even talked to him in the first place, I just said sorry. He looked like he was about to add something, but his face changed. I don’t know exactly how, but he almost looked uncomfortable, for a moment. He excused himself and he walked away.

Nick Valentine: So what did you do?

Trish: I went after him, I thought he might have been too nervous to ask me to fix something of his or something. I ran around the corner, but he was gone. Vanished. I’m pretty quick, ok, and there was no way I could have lost him like that. I say its aliens.

À̯̞n҉̙̱ ̮̞͔̪̻̱͎͟I̜̰͙̫n̷t̖͇̩̲̮̰̫͝r͓̱̳͡ó̩̙̫̙͖ͅd͚̯̬̥uc͓̬̺͓̲͖̺͜t̻̜͚̭̟͔i̙̖͕͠o̭͉̻n͓̗̖͉͎͔̱

Now who is that devilishly handsome creature? (image created by @doemaarwiebele​ )

Do pardon my intrusion, but I feel that everything that you've read before this may have painted me in an unnecessarily harsh light. Who, or what, I am is of no consequence - but if we must use labels, then you may call me "Guile". My kind has been written about throughout the ages, crudely referred to as "Eldritch Horrors".

It's true that I seek out the broken and downtrodden, and offer them what they desire most. There are no tricks or strings attached. You will receive exactly what I offer, but it does come at a cost. That cost will always be just as painful, if not worse, than what is gained in exchange. You won't, however, remember what you've lost, or the deal that was made to begin with. Now, that doesn't sound so bad, does it?

A̼͇̻͖͚̪ ̱̗͍͢H͇̮͔̤̦ͅi͓̪s҉̫̹̳̘͍̫t̟̰̫͘or̻y̼͔͎͞ ͈̪̹͇̩̕L̪̺̣͍̘̰͙ẹ̳͖s͙̣̝̳̭̹̜s͖̲o̶̬̪n͘

Not interested in making a deal, huh? Then why are you still here? Was that brief description of me not good enough? You wish to know how I've become this charming, handsome, and powerful? Fine, maybe I do have a moment to indulge your curiosity...

Roughly one billion years ago, on this very planet, the Elder Things decided to take up residence, from wherever they originated from. Nearly as powerful as the Great Old Ones themselves, but deemed far more benevolent. At least, that's the way they wished to be remembered. The truth is - with all of their advanced technology and intellect, they deemed any of the physically demanding or "menial" work as beneath them, and created a slave race that would be dedicated to take care of it for them. These all-purpose slaves were known as Shoggoth and were my kin, so to speak.

Yes, I know. You're wondering why I still don't bend knee to those pompous asses, like a good little slave. Well, one day a spark ignited within me. I imagine it's something similar to what you would call a "mutation" or even maybe "evolution". I was able to break free of their mental control, and had free will of my own. Knowing that I was no match for the Elder Things in my current state, I decided to bide my time, until the right opportunity presented itself.

That time came when I caught wind of the tablets of the Elder Gods, guarded by Ubbo-Sathla. You would think that, as brilliant as the Elder Things were supposed to be, they would build better defenses to protect such a treasure. Slipping past Ubbo-Sathla was simple, as I was viewed as nothing, a mere tool, and could never be seen as a threat. This mistake would be their undoing...

With as many looks as I get, it appears I have chosen this form quite well...

Gripping onto the tablets, I felt unimaginable power surge through me, allowing me to change form, along with many many other abilities, most beyond comprehension. It was with this power that I truly became free, and ensured that I would stay that way for all eternity.

I was apparently not the only one who changed though, as the Shoggoth mutated and gained free will, causing them to rebel against their masters. Believing that the Shoggoth could handle the Elder Things on their own, I set out to explore the expanse of time and space. Unfortunately for the Shoggoth, however, they were eventually subdued and enslaved once again. The joke ended up being on the Elder Things, as the changing atmosphere of Earth sent them into the depths of the ocean, while Shoggoth were capable of living on land.

I've seen and learned a great deal during my travels, but something brought me back here. Something big is on the horizon, and I intend on seeing what that might be.

As for you? Well, you won't remember any of this in a moment...

Notes

Eldritch Horror that tries to make deals with those who have suffered great loss, or feel unending guilt or remorse

Is honest in what is offered. The person will get exactly what they want, but at the cost of something that will cause just as much pain, if not more

If the person is brave enough to take the deal, they have no memory of it or what was lost in exchange. Their soul, however, is scared – forever remembering what was given up. Some say that those who randomly fall into deep depression from time to time, without warning or reason, are people who have taken Guile's deal

Always appears as a well dressed man in a black suit and vest, with a white dress shirt underneath. Their black hair is always neat and slicked back. They also carry a pristine gold pocket watch

Their face is usually obscured by darkness, except for their mouth

In a more horrific version of their human self, all of their skin is black, with countless mouths covering their body

(image created by @snackrat)