#I binge read the event at the last day cause I COULD NOT ACCEPT NOT KNOWING EVERYTHING

[ptanalo]

I miss her o’clock

[lovelylogans]

i wish i knew how (your eyes are like starlight now)

warnings: vampires (blood drinking mentioned), alcohol consumption, food mentions, cuddling, kissing, death mentions, if i’ve missed any please let me know!

pairing: logan/patton

word count: 6,003

notes: for @fangirltothefullest for our discord server’s secret santa! prompted with “Preferably logan-centric and fluffy! Logicality would be great! Logince would also be good. Maybe some cute cuddles by a fireplace?” title is from “baby it’s cold outside!” the idea of vampires being able to eat red food comes from a book i remember reading as a kid, but i cannot place the title, so if anyone knows it please let me know!

Hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps and Bailey’s, it turns out, is a particularly adept calmative.

It’s made the world go hazy and lovely and beautiful, and that’s even before Logan acknowledges the way his eyes are half-lidded and he’s leaning his head a bit more against the side of his wingback armchair than he would if he were entirely sober.

Logan narrows his eyes down at his mug, the one Roman had wheel-thrown and painted him with the chemical illustration of the molecular construction of caffeine on it, which is half-drained, the whipped cream and marshmallows melted, the peppermint stick meant to stir already losing its red stripes. Logan plucks it from the mug and sticks it into his mouth, crunching it, wriggling in the armchair to get more comfortably seated, and to get a better view.

Roman, Janus, Virgil, and Patton have long since been occupied with a board game; Remus left to do whatever it is that Remus does at night, probably screaming profanities at random passerby, so it’s just the five of them left. The Christmas party’s been winding down slowly for the past hour or so, the fireplace still crackling but burning lower and lower, their hot chocolate supply depleted, and Roman and Virgil’s fits of competitiveness losing fervor as the moon creeps higher and higher in the sky. The white of the waxing moon peeks out against the clouds that distribute the fat, fluffy flakes falling from the sky.

The snow catches the light of the Christmas lights hung outside the house (goodness, hadn’t that been a trying day) so the snow gleams in technicolor reflection, the rest of the world lit by the hazy orange glow of the street lamps. It is very beautiful, and Logan, in an unusually sentimental fit that he would tell himself in the morning was brought on by the alcohol, is incredibly grateful to be alive, at this precise moment, that allows him the company of such wonderful friends in such a beautiful world.

What a statistically improbable event they all are. What an outright scientifically impossible group they all make—a vampire, a set of twins that turned out to be a banshee and a siren, a selkie, and two humans. Three years ago Logan would have scoffed at the idea of any sort of supernatural, mythical humanoid, much less even suspected he’d meet them. And now he is in love with one, and is best friends with the others, and his life is so strange, so odd, so wonderful.

Logan comes back into himself when Roman cries out in protest, making Logan’s ears ring unpleasantly, as Janus crows in victory, holding the longest road card aloft, the dark gray seal-skin on his face gleaming pearlescent in the firelight. 

“Cheater!” Roman accuses, his voice still maintaining that double-pitch—a high keen layered over Roman’s typically pleasant baritone—that always makes something in Logan’s head throb.

“Just because you didn’t strategize your road properly,” Janus gloats, pointing—and yes, the yellow road winding around the edge of Catan is decidedly longer than the red road circling over itself in the middle.

All the while, Virgil is muttering darkly about how useless the Largest Army card has been, tossing it aside, and Patton looks up at Logan, dark eyes glinting brightly in amusement, freckles speckled across his face like constellations, trying his best to hide his smile around the specially-ordered red-dominant candy canes he’s been eating all season, his fangs gleaming white, freed from the fake teeth Patton usually wears to pass as human, his lips tinged artificially red.

Logan feels even warmer all over at the sight of him.

Patton’s eyes get even brighter, and he flashes a sweet smile at Logan before he turns back to the board game and breaks up the squabbling with patient declarations of “Everyone did a really great job!” and “The fun’s what matters, right?” and being so stubborn and relentless in his optimism and platitudes that Janus and Roman relent and grumble grudging “good game”s at each other.

Patton’s far more patient than the pair of them—which makes sense, as he’s been practicing at it since the seventeenth century, according to all their estimations surrounding the first edition of Human Understanding he’d acquired the month after he’d been turned, in a fit of uncharacteristically dark humor—so he always wins out when it comes to digging in his heels and cheerfully going about something with the consistency of the little bird and the diamond mountain.

Roman ducks out to sulk for a moment, under the excuse of adjusting Patton’s painstakingly maintained gramophone he’d bought in the 1920s—he still has the early prototype phonograph he bought in the 1870s, but that one is even more painstakingly preserved in the rooms full of obsolete technologies, clothes, and knick-knacks that Patton’s accrued and hoarded throughout the years like a magpie—and the sound of Bing Crosby crackles to life in the next room, crooning “White Christmas,” the snapping of the fire providing unintentionally harmonious percussion. Logan wouldn’t be surprised if this is one of the original vinyls, too—Patton’s got loads of vintage music from artists Logan had never even heard of before.

Janus bows out, next, content to allow the high of his victory usher him out the door. He even allows Patton to fuss over ensuring his coat is warm enough to protect him from the snow, considering he’s wearing his sealskin coat and not a proper winter coat, and then even lets him fret over Janus staying moisturized, despite the fact that both Janus and Logan have attempted to explain that Janus’ version of moisturized and the human version of moisturized are quite different in execution, one being smearing lotion all over oneself and the other consisting of sealing himself into his skin and taking a dip in the nearest ocean. 

Logan mentally backtracks over the previous sentence and immediately blames Patton for the pun, and simultaneously promises himself to never utter it in Patton’s presence. Patton still brings up the time Logan had accidentally mentioned Patton sinking his teeth into something, and can hardly finish recounting it before bursting into giggles. He is fortunate he is so adorable, otherwise it would irk Logan to no end. As it is, when it happens, Logan can’t summon up anything stronger than resigned affection. 

He’s in love with a vampire who is currently fretting over a selkie with the exact air of a concerned father. It’s a fate he’s all too eagerly accepted.

Janus usually gets snappy about being mother-henned, so Logan suspects that either the Bailey’s has done a number on him, or the Christmas sentimentality is getting to him. 

And, considering that Janus had one mug of mulled wine with dinner, Logan has a fairly good guess as to which is the root cause—especially taking into consideration Janus allows Patton to hug him goodbye. Janus wishes him a happy Christmas in a tone that is not quite as drawlingly dramatic as usual.

By then, the gramophone is playing a new song, a soprano prettily warbling “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and Roman seems to be over his discontent over losing because he joins in, singing pleasantly rather than shrieking—he usually leaves the wailing to the banshee in the family, it’s just that the whole “drawing men to their deaths” aspect of his voice emerges when his temper flares—and Logan swallows down the sudden lump in his throat at the sound of it.

Of course, Roman’s voice is supernaturally exquisite, but there’s something different about it now; Roman had tried enchanting Logan, exactly once, after Logan had pestered him for weeks out of scientific curiosity, so he can say with certainty that this isn’t like the captivating sound that put him in a stupor with the speed and subtlety of being hit by a train, but it’s like someone has captured the flame in the fireplace and tempered it to a temperature that a human could stand, the cozy sensation of being beside a fire rather than the fire itself, and set it directly inside his heart.

You’re happy, a sober corner of his brain says dryly. You know this, you’re happy.

He is.

He is stupidly, incandescently, absolutely happy.

He will blame the dryness of the room from the fire for the sudden wetness in his eyes when Virgil joins in, usually quite shy about singing, but it is almost equally as pleasant as Roman’s, even though Virgil’s vocal chords (and the rest of Virgil) were entirely, completely, mortally human.

They are excellent, the pair of them. Not just their voices, but them, as people—they are excellent. Logan is exceptionally glad to have made their companionship.

Logan takes a deep breath, downs the last half of his hot chocolate, and launches himself from his armchair, perhaps a bit wobblier than he was at the start of the night, and Roman laughs without halting his song, wrapping an arm around Logan’s shoulder to steady him.

He can only join in for the last part of the song, which is probably for the best; Logan supposes his voice is tolerable enough, but it surely cannot compare to a siren, or to Virgil’s voice, rumbling like thunder. Also, he does not want to make a fool of himself, and surely singing more Christmas carols than necessary while not entirely sober would be a surefire way to do that. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Patton watching the three of them, a fond expression on his face, even if there is a flash of sudden gloom that passes over his face as the three of them sing “ Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow,” and Logan frowns to himself, noting it.

Intellectually, he is aware of the various burdens an immortal life forces upon its receiver; Patton has hundreds if not thousands of sketchings and, when the technology became available, photographs of people he had known through the hundreds of years of his life, painstakingly filed away. 

Intellectually, he is aware that Patton was the source of unexpected windfalls that had been bestowed on Virgil’s family throughout the years, the reason Virgil and his siblings could afford to go to college; it is only after he and Virgil knew who Patton truly was that they found the reason behind the luck that struck his family once a generation. Patton had once been Virgil’s great-great-great-grandmother Violetta’s dearest friend, and she his; he’s been anonymously helping the descendants of all his friends in a similar manner for centuries. 

Intellectually. He is aware that Patton fears the day that he will lose them all, and he will be left alone, unchanged, eternally in his late twenties, as he has been for centuries.

It is different to be intellectually aware of something, and to remember seeing Patton show Virgil the portrait he had personally painted of Violetta and choke back his tears because he’d missed her so much, and meeting and befriending Virgil had been a bit like having a piece of her back in his life again, and getting to know you has been such a gift, such a blessing. She would have adored you, as I do, and then Virgil had hugged him, and Patton had gotten so overcome he had not been able to say much else.

It is this memory plucking at his heartstrings that sends him stumbling in Patton’s direction.

Patton moves so quickly that Logan’s eyes can’t track it; one moment he was watching the three of them, the next he’s caught Logan around the waist, smiling down at him.

“Hi,” Patton says, and Logan takes a half-step closer to wrap his arms around Patton’s neck.

“Hello,” Logan says. He is about to attempt to say something that is emotionally adept, he really is, except Patton’s skin is smooth and cold under his fingers, and his lips are still tinged red, and Patton’s eyes dart down to Logan’s lips and then looks him in the eye and then he smiles, and any particularly subtle ideas about how to probe Patton’s emotions or perhaps to get him to stop thinking about the curse of bearing witness to the passage of time entirely flee his mind.

He barely has enough time to hope that Patton’s mind is similarly empty before Patton meets him halfway, pressing his lips against Logan’s; even though they’ve been together for years, Logan still isn’t quite used to the chill of Patton’s lips meeting his own. It makes him shiver every time.

Patton is always so sweet, so soft—Logan thinks only part of that is that he is a vampire afraid of hurting his comparatively delicate human lover, and the majority of it is because Patton strives to be sweet and soft as a default state of being, because he is a person who understands that kindness is not a state of being but constantly, consciously making mindful choices to be kind—and his kisses reflect that about him. 

He almost always tastes of mint, because Logan had established early that he was perfectly fine with Patton drinking blood, he would not be facing secondary exposure to someone else’s blood, absolutely not, he holds a less than zero amount of desire to become an amateur hematologist through taste, and so Patton was incredibly scrupulous about brushing his teeth after consuming the blood he’d procured through a source of his in blood donation.

Patton tastes of peppermint now, and Logan sighs into the kiss, lips parting, and he feels the slightest, teasing pinprick of fangs against that sends a thrill zipping down his spine, and—

“And that’s our cue to leave!” Roman bellows with good humor; Logan turns to scowl at him over his shoulder anyways.

“Oh, you don’t have to—” Patton begins, brow creasing ever so slightly.

“Yeah, we do,” Virgil says, an edge of a laugh in his voice. “Besides, us humans have to sleep.”

Patton usually forgets about this; he doesn’t necessarily need to sleep, but he can. Logan knows of at least three decade-long naps that Patton’s taken; he has next to no memories of the foundation of the United States, because he was snoozing for the vast majority of the buildup to the Revolutionary War and the establishment of the government afterwards.

He is, though, content to lie in a bed he’d bought for Logan’s use as Logan dozes throughout the night; sometimes Logan wakes up to Patton propped up on an elbow, looking at him with an expression in his eyes that is a bizarre mixture of fondness and jealousy.

Patton nods and says wisely, “Or else Santa won’t come to your house.”

Virgil snorts, “Yeah, that’s why.”

“I’ll have you know that Nikolass’ a close personal friend of mine,” Patton sniffs, “and it is a very long way from Gemile.”

“North Pole,” Virgil corrects. “Santa lives at the North Pole.”

“Mm,” Patton says neutrally.

“Patton, did you really know St. Nick?” Roman demands.

“No, no, you’re right,” Patton sighs, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Far too late for you mortals. Off to bed, then, and don’t forget to leave him some börek!”

“ Milk and cookies,” Virgil says, he and Roman now wearing twin expressions of desperate curiosity. Logan, who knows when St. Nick supposedly lived, keeps silent.

“He prefers börek,” Patton says, his nose twitching, a telltale sign he’s holding in laughter. “It’s traditional, where he’s from. Leave him a note that old Patton remembers him, it’ll earn you börek points!”

“Brownie points,” Virgil corrects again, “Patton, did you actually know Santa Claus—”

Patton bursts into giggles, unable to hold up the ruse for very long.

“The figure we know today as St. Nicholas of Myra lived in the 300s,” Logan explains. “He predates Patton by thirteen hundred years, approximately.”

“I can’t believe you fell for that!” Patton cackles, eyes bright, making him look as young as his face presents him to be.

“Yeah, okay,” Virgil says, as Patton pulls Roman into a hug, “you say that like it’s entirely unbelievable when you’ve shown us paintings of you and other completely unreal people like Maid Marian—”

“Aw, I miss her,” Patton says.

“— sorry if Santa Claus is too far out of the realm of belief from the vampire, ” Virgil continues to grumble, even as Patton folds him into a hug, too.

“He has also known Marie Curie,” Logan says, still unable to quite believe it even though he’s practically memorized the missives she had sent Patton. “Also, I may have elevated my threshold of belief to include vampires, selkies, sirens, and banshees, but I absolutely will not be budged to start believing in childhood myths.”

He pins Patton with a look. “And I am still unconvinced that you knew Robin Hood.”

“Well, he wasn’t actually called that then — ” Patton begins.

“Nope!” Roman practically yells. “Nope, Logan, you are not going to take the fact that I am one degree separated from the Merry Men, I refuse to listen to you debate this again, Sheriff of Not-letting-Roman-have-this-one-thing-ingham—”

“All of my research suggests the people you knew were imitators—” Logan begins again.

“As a Christmas gift to me, shut up,” Roman says. 

“Roman,” Patton scolds.

“ Please shut up,” Roman amends politely—only his tone is polite, as the words themselves and the eyeroll that accompanies them are not particularly courteous. 

Virgil distracts him quite handily by physically turning Roman around and nudging him toward the door.

Patton follows after them, Logan a few steps behind.

“All right, well, be safe going home,” Patton says, beginning on his spiel as Roman and Virgil pull on gloves and scarves. “Are you calling for a ride?”

“Walking,” Virgil says.

Patton makes a discomfited noise. “In this cold?”

“We barely live three blocks away, Ed-worry Cullen,” Roman says, and flaps his arms to show off his new peacoat, a gift from Janus. “We’re all bundled up.”

“All right, well,” Patton says, clearly still fretting, “Text message me when you get home?”

“Just text works,” Logan murmurs, but he can empathize with Patton’s difficulty with memorizing certain terms; it’s just that Patton’s are mostly technological in nature, and Logan’s are slang. Back when they first met, Patton still had the occasional slip-up and called texts telegrams.  

“Text me,” Patton corrects himself, smiling at Logan and squeezing his hand in silent thanks before turning his attention back to Roman and Virgil.

“We will,” Virgil says, and amends, “or at least, I will,” because Roman was notorious for promising he’d text when he got home only to wake up to fifteen missed calls from Patton because he’d forgotten to do so.

“Good,” Patton says with a sigh of relief, then, “All right, bring it in!”

Logan releases Patton’s hand so Patton can step forward and hug Roman and Virgil simultaneously; Roman pulls a face at him over Patton’s shoulder, likely still stung by Logan’s accurate theory about the validity of the so-called Merry Men Patton had been acquainted with.

Though Logan is the correct one, Patton may believe that those people were the original Robin Hood and his band of thieves, but he was most likely deceived considering the earliest myths of Robin Hood originated two hundred years prior to Patton’s birth, even if Patton protests that the dates of the origin of many myths during his human life are incorrectly cited—

Logan presses his lips together in an expression that is not reciprocating the face that Roman pulled at him. Logan is correct; he can rest easily knowing this. And perhaps Christmas is not the proper time to bring up this oft-rehashed debate.

Even though Logan is right. It should not be oft-rehashed because he is right.

“Merry Christmas, Brainy Swan,” Roman says, stepping forward to give Logan a hug that Logan would describe as brotherly, except he knows Roman’s brother and this is far too tame, even if there is more back-slapping and hair ruffling than Logan would prefer. 

“I am not anything like Isabella Swan,” he begins—this is an oft-rehashed debate, too, but this one is far more teasing in nature; Logan, at least, has the retort of pulling up any image of a particularly hideous mermaid mock-up or ugly fish and showing it to him with the (Virgil-taught) response “This you?”—and Roman rolls his eyes.

“Stop denying the Twilight renaissance, Lucy Weste- nerd -a,” Roman says, and reaches out to pluck at the patched elbow of Logan’s tweed jacket, even as he’s hugging Patton goodbye. “You’re dressed Victorian enough—”

“Patton isn’t anything like Dracula,” Logan disputes this time, because obviously Patton would never drink Logan’s blood or turn him without his consent. He straightens his waistcoat, and is about to reach into his pocket, grab his phone, and show Roman the image of a blobfish he has saved for a special occasion to tell him that this is clearly his long-lost twin, not Remus.

He may or may not have rehearsed this with Virgil to ensure a devastating effect.

“Can we please go before you two spend all of Christmas Eve talking about vampire franchises,” Virgil groans.

“Yeah, as fun as that is, most nights, this is kind of a special night!” Patton says brightly. If it were anyone else, Logan would wonder if he should attempt to scan his tone for sarcasm, but Patton probably does think it’s fun. 

Virgil steps forward to hug Logan next; a one-armed hug around the shoulders, quick. It’s what they’re both best with, really; abrupt, swift affection that can be moved on from in a tidy manner. 

“Merry Christmas, L,” Virgil says, then he steps forward to allow Patton to give him a more substantial hug; Patton wraps his arms around Virgil’s shoulders, squeezing him tight, his eyes shuttering for a brief moment, his face becoming gaunt. 

“Merry Christmas, Pat,” Virgil says in a very quiet voice.

“Merry Christmas, V,” Patton says, his voice equally quiet and a touch strained.

Something deep in Logan aches at the sight of them before the look on Patton’s is wiped clean, so abruptly it’s almost as if Logan’s imagined it, and Patton inhales deeply and lets go of Virgil.

“Text me,” Patton reminds them, as Roman and Virgil step off the front stoop.

“I will,” Virgil promises.

Roman’s face splits into a grin, and he calls back, “Merry Christmas, Elena Gil-boring!”

Logan’s head whips around, and he opens his mouth to respond—he isn’t sure with what— and the world surrounding him spins, and he’s weightless, airborne, and as suddenly as it started, it’s stopped. He sees Patton smile at him before Logan closes his eyes, the world still spinning in a way that is distinctly unpleasant.

“Okay?” Patton asks, gently touching Logan’s shoulder.

“Mm. Dizzy.” Logan takes in a deep breath through his nose—the smoke off the fire, the lingering scents of their dinner and desserts, peppermint—and releases it, shaky, through his mouth, before he chances opening his eyes again.

“Sorry,” Patton says, guilt in his tone.

“It’s all right,” Logan says, and he smirks a little. “I’m sure Roman would have said something to interrupt the Yuletide peace if you hadn’t.”

“Yes, Roman would have,” Patton teases, amused, before he blurs for a moment and comes into focus just as quickly, Logan’s empty mug in his hands, one of his many fluffy blankets over his arm—Patton is almost always eager to use his preternatural speed when they are alone in his home. “Would you like another?”

Logan evaluates it; he does not drink very often, but it is a holiday, and he has eaten a sufficient amount and kept well-hydrated today. Though, he does not usually get too vertiginous when Patton moves him quickly, unless they are moving a great distance, he does have reason to suspect that the alcohol is the reason for it today. He’ll have to mention it to Patton; so long as he avoids that, and keeps it to this last mug, he should not face any unfortunate aftereffects in the morning.

“Yes, please,” he decides.

Patton kisses his temple and casts the blanket in front of the fireplace with great fanfare, fluffing it up so that it is at optimum comfort levels, before he unfolds another with an equal amount of fanfare, wrapping it around Logan’s shoulders. Logan smiles at him in thanks, as he knows the blanket is likely for his benefit—Patton frets about Logan getting too cold when they cuddle due to their disparate temperatures—and there’s a rush of artificial wind as Patton zooms to the kitchen. 

Logan wraps the blanket around himself a little more securely as he settles in front of the fire, taking a moment to adjust the wood with the poker, listening to the popping crackle that allows him to lean back in time to watch the spray of sparks leap up the chimney. There’s the sound of a needle being lifted off a vinyl, the vinyl being replaced, and the needle lowered back down; Patton has switched them to an album of orchestral performances of Christmas songs.

Another rush of wind, then, a soft tap of fingers at the top of his head. Logan tilts his head back to look up at him.

Patton’s smiling down at him, eyes reflecting the last remaining sparks, his dark eyes catching the light like stars. He cradles the mug in his hand, and, despite the great speed at which he had moved, he has not spilled a drop.

“Here you are, love.”

“Thank you, dear,” Logan says, placing the poker back where it’s meant to be before he accepts the mug. Patton takes the time to settle in beside him, setting a tray on the hearth, before he wraps his shoulders in the fluffy blanket, too.

Logan smiles a little at the sight of the tray. One half would pass as a traditional, human charcuterie board, if perhaps a bit heavier on jellies than most. The other half is crowded with sectioned blood oranges, a small bowl of pomegranate seeds, raspberries, cherries, and strawberries, all foods as red as Patton’s punny Christmas sweater. It says Merry Chrismath! on it, with math formulas sketched out to form the shape of a Christmas tree, which Patton had purchased specifically because the corners of Logan’s lips had turned up at the sight of it in the store.

Patton takes a sip from his own mug—from the smell of it, mulled wine—and sighs in satisfaction.

“This feels very human, doesn’t it?” Patton asks Logan, as if he is asking for Logan’s approval, and in all honesty he probably is; Patton has been undead for so long that the memories of his human life are dim and distant. “Sitting in front of the fire, eating snacks. About to cuddle.”

It does feel rather human—all he has to do is pretend that his boyfriend is a red food enthusiast, rather than, for whatever reason, red foods being passable enough to a vampire that they are the only human foods he can stomach. 

He doesn’t waste time pretending, though. Why should he, when his reality is stranger than fiction?

Logan presses his cheek to Patton’s shoulder, for a moment.

“I’m perfectly satisfied with this being a shared vampire-human experience,” Logan says, deliberately misunderstanding why Patton is asking. He likes that Patton is a vampire; it is part of him, it is why they have been able to meet. He does not understand why Patton sometimes seems to act like Logan would prefer a human boyfriend, because he wouldn’t. He prefers Patton.

“Well,” Patton says, his voice almost unbearably soft. “I suppose I’m all right with that too.”

Logan reaches for his own mug and takes a sip, before, once again, pressing his cheek against Patton’s shoulder in a way that presses his hair against Patton’s face.

Patton huffs softly in amusement. “Are you trying to get me to smell you?”

“I find it interesting,” Logan says, and he does; the amount of data Patton can deduce by one smell is absolutely astounding. He has plans for a more specific experiment, which he will ask Patton to conduct on a day he is bored and amenable to such suggestions.

Patton hesitates, just for a little bit, before Logan scoots closer, about to tilt so that some of his more major arteries will be closer to his nose.

“All right, then, for Christmas.”

Patton presses his nose against Logan’s hair, kissing the crown of his head, before he inhales, slowly, curiously, like someone trying to place what’s cooking in a kitchen without being able to see what is being prepared.

“And?” Logan asks.

“Mm,” Patton hums, getting his thoughts in order, before he inhales again, this time as if he is a sommelier inhaling the scent of a fine vintage. “Well, you, my favorite smell in the whole world.”

Logan feels very warm in a way that has nothing to do with the blanket, Patton’s arm around his shoulders, or the fire before them.

“You washed your hair this morning—oh, this is a new shampoo!”

“You didn’t like the other one, you thought it was too chemical-y,” Logan says. “I finished it yesterday.”

“Ooh, thank you,” Patton says. “Not that you didn’t smell lovely without the overtone of whatever phoenix is supposed to smell like, but I like this one much better—ooh, lemongrass? You’re spoiling me.”

Logan grins into Patton’s collarbone; really, only Patton would think that a new shampoo scent was spoiling.

“And the usual soap smell,” Patton says. “Sweat, skin, deodorant, your aftershave. You walked by someone smoking today; tobacco and herbal cigarettes, that’s unusual, those were way more common back in the forties—damiana, blackberry leaf, rose, and,” another inhale, “hibiscus and mullein. Gosh, the thought of those takes me back.”

Logan is about to ask—perhaps a past acquaintance or friend smoked something similar in those days—but Patton moves on without ruminating on it further, which makes Logan feel an odd prick of pride; nostalgia has been one of Patton’s greatest strengths, true, but also one of his greatest downfalls.

“Did you have tacos for lunch yesterday? I can smell the spicy salsa still.”

“You cannot,” Logan says, still stunned, even after years, at the amount of things Patton can detect. He’s probably smelling the capsaicin in his salsa, for one, but Patton can also smell certain chemicals the body produces: illness, for example, but also things like cortisol and oxytocin.

“Mhm, makes my nose itch a little. And I can smell the stuff we had at the party, and for dinner last night and breakfast this morning, so it wouldn’t be as fun for you if I listed that off...” Another inhale. “Oh, and I can tell you’re a little tipsy.”

“I think that’s probably why I got dizzy when you ran with me earlier.”

Patton kisses his forehead as a form of apology. “And. You’re happy.”

Logan pulls back just enough, just so he can look Patton in the eyes. 

There are a great many supposed vampire stories that claim to know the color of a vampire’s eyes; blood red, commonly, but yellow or gold were popular ideas, as well. Silver, sometimes. Almost always, the presumed color was a color not found in nature.

Patton’s eyes are so dark a brown they are practically black, the iris near indistinguishable from his pupil unless someone was shining a direct light at them. They were the same color when he was human, Patton thinks; he has an illustration of his mother hidden away upstairs, and they are identical in shape and shade. They are beautiful, and captivating, and full of the warmth and love that are so perfectly, wonderfully Patton.

“I hope you don’t have to smell me to know that,” Logan says, and then, fumblingly, “I mean—I am aware you can smell my oxytocin, but I hope you know that I am without relying on that sense. That I am happy, I mean. Because I am. I do not tell you how you make me feel enough and I feel the need to do so now and articulate it clearly. You make me incandescently, impeccably happy. I am deeply in love with you. I could not have imagined the way my life is now, but I do not want it any other way, because you have made my life so much better.”

Patton’s expression has softened, his head tilting to the side, his lips tilted up into a smile, his eyes so full of affection that Logan almost has the urge to look away, overwhelmed. But Logan, bolstered by something —the Bailey’s and peppermint schnapps, the Christmas spirit, his own love for Patton, he isn’t sure which or if it’s a combination of all of them—keeps looking at him, savoring the expression, before his hand drifts up to cup Patton’s jaw.

They lean in simultaneously, and Logan’s eyes drift shut as he presses his lips to Patton’s once again; this time, without anyone to watch or heckle, Patton’s soft lips part easily for him, Patton’s fingers tangling in his hair, and Logan shivers a little with pleasure as Patton’s tongue brushes against Logan’s bottom lip. Patton is always, always so intolerably tender with him, so careful and deliberate, as if Logan is something to be savored, something exquisite and vitreous that needs to be handled delicately, something precious.

Logan tries his best to treat him in kind. He touches Patton’s face, Patton’s mouth and lips and tongue, eternally cool to the touch, with the kind of mindfulness he gives to pipettes and microscopes and test tubes, as if touching Patton in a way that is any less than the amount of devotion and love Patton deserves will irrevocably contaminate the results of his hypothesis. 

But then Patton’s tongue brushes against his own, and Logan gasps, and he moves to kiss Patton with the devotion and love and passion that ignites in Logan’s stomach, burning hotter than a Yule log, his heartbeat thudding rapidly in his ears, and Logan presses himself even closer to Patton, so wonderfully chilled to the touch, the only thing that could temper the heat flaring to life in Logan’s stomach to something bearable, the only thing that brings balance, something as undeniably well-paired as the heat source and the heat sink—they bring each other thermodynamic equilibrium, romantic equilibrium, equilibrium in all things—

Patton pulls away, just in time, just as Logan needs to break away to gulp in a breath that Patton does not need to take, and Logan looks at Patton, whose eyes are flaring with their own kind of heat.

“I love you too,” Patton says, and he presses his forehead to Logan’s, inhaling deeply; Logan wonders if his body has started producing dopamine and norepinephrine and serotonin and vasopressin, if Patton can smell it.

“I love you so much,” Patton says again, his voice trembling with the weight of it.

Patton wraps his arms around Logan’s waist, pulling him into his lap, and Logan wraps his arms around him. Patton cuddles closer, rubbing his cheeks against Logan’s hair almost like a cat.

“I love you too,” Logan says, “I love you.”

Patton bundles the blanket around them, the fire crackling and the ebb and flow of string music in the background, and Logan presses a kiss to Patton’s cheek.

“I love you,” Patton repeats.

I love you, I love you, I love you, they whisper at each other, wrapped up in a blanket until the fire sputters down to embers, Patton’s cold skin keeping Logan from overheating, the pair of them exchanging kisses that only slightly tip into overly passionate, always returning to holding each other, cuddling in front of the fire, even as Logan’s eyelids slip lower and lower as the moon rises higher and higher in the sky, so comfortable and so adored and so absolutely, completely sated that he cannot help but drift off in the comfort of it, one thing ringing in his ears that carries him off to a deep, dreamless sleep.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

[jumbojamba47]

I Love You

Pt. 2 of Guest Room

A/N: Thank you for loving my little ball of garbage enough to warrant a second part. I’m feeling warm and fuzzy. Also... I kinda.. sorta.. really got carried away with this. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. Shout out to my irl friends who had to deal with my gleefully rubbing my grubby little paws together all day. 

A/N PT. 2: TUMBLR QUIT BEING A BITCH AND JUST LET ME UPLOAD MY STORY IN PEACE PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU. The last try uploaded to my main and my stomach dropped out of my ass lmao. Fifth and hopefully final time. (I’m so sorry for the notifications spam for everyone I tagged)

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Stucky 

Warnings: 18+, Angst (like so much I’m sorry), Smut, Swearing, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption

Word Count: 5702

Hollow. It’s the only way she can describe the feeling of deep-seated emptiness that settles in her as she watches the quinjet disappear in the distance. What’s that noise? She casts her eyes around her surroundings when she suddenly feels a dampness on her collarbone. Reaching up a hand, she feels moisture on her face.

Oh.

The sounds were coming from her. At the realization of her sobs, pain wracked her frame with nowhere to go.

What was she thinking?

She wasn’t.

When she left Clint in a hurry, she hadn’t even paused to consider what she would say to you if she caught you. What did she feel for you? What could she have told you? Her life conditioned her to believe love was for children. She wasn’t one.

And yet…

She couldn’t deny that there was something about you that always drew her in to you. Every hidden interaction with you pulled onto all five of her senses demanding her full attention until there was only you in front of her; drawn straight into your orbit like a moon of Saturn. Each and every private encounter made it more difficult for the hardened assassin to pull herself away from you only to act unaffected by your presence in public.

Was that love?

It doesn’t matter.

You were sunlight. You were the warm embrace of home calling out to every damaged member of this family seeking acceptance for their past sins and a place to belong.

And she?

Well, she was damaged beyond repair.

She refused to be the one to tarnish your light. And she knew, if she gave in to her weaknesses, you could never really shine. You meant too much to the team. To her. A part of her could also admit to fear. Fear of what would happen if she hurt you.

If you hurt her.

She could live with never knowing what it felt like to call you hers. To hear you whisper her name in the early morning light your sweet features the first things she lays eyes on in your shared haven.

But she knew. She’d never recover if she could have you and lose you. If she were to tear her walls down, only for you to look inside and decide it wasn’t worth it.

That she wasn’t worth it.

With a steely resolve in her eyes, Natasha turned on her heels and began to make her way back towards the gym. She had a few weeks to get her head screwed on straight. She’ll lock away and bury anything she might have felt for you if given the chance. When you’re back, she’ll apologize for the hurt she’s caused you and maybe, just maybe, you’ll let her stay a part of your life.

If, along the way, she refuses to let her mind wander to thoughts of you with someone else, well, that’s her prerogative.

xxxx

You sit in heavy silence on the quinjet. Thoughts of last night’s interactions with the red-headed assassin plaguing your mind. You still feel a pang of pain when you remember her rejection. With a mental shake of your head, you resolve to table your emotions for now to focus on the mission at hand.

You’ve been tasked with leading a team to infiltrate an underground drug trafficking ring disguised as a bi-monthly art auction. Once you arrive at your destination, you’ll be allotted two months of integration and data retrieval before another team of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents will be sent in to assist in the take down. You’re leading the team with Scarlet Witch and Falcon following your lead. Agent Hill was chosen to tag along strictly for backup and onsite supervision should the worst come to pass.

Sam and Maria sit up front; you can hear the sounds of quiet banter trickling back towards you while they try to respect your privacy, believing you to be mentally preparing yourself for the road up ahead. Wanda sits opposite you. Your emotions scream at her from across the jet, but she has the decency not to read your actual thoughts.

Still, she can’t help the concerned glances she sends your way.

Noticing her attention on you, you shift your body to turn towards her.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I could ask you the same. Where did you disappear to last night? I tried to find you after you were pulled away by Natasha, but I couldn’t find you.”

You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry. My heads been a mess lately. I didn’t mean to leave you on the dance floor like that. It was a rough night.”

A hand rises to nervously play with the hair on the back of your neck. You look to the floor.

“I also owe you a bit of an apology for how carried away I got last night. You’re amazing Wan, and I don’t want to lead you on in any way.”

She lets out a light laugh.

“Don’t worry about it, draga mea. We were just two friends who had a little too much to drink, having a little fun. No hard feelings whatsoever.”

You wince and she instantly knows that was the wrong thing to say.

“You know, I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener. Pietro used to say it’s because I had big ears when we were children.”

She reaches out a hand across the aisle to let it rest on your knee. After an internal debate, you decide to divulge everything to her. From your first interactions with the assassin and your instant connection to the fallout from last night.

Listening patiently, Wanda’s eyes widen slightly when you mention what the events that occurred in the ex-soviet’s room.

By the end, Wanda is livid with righteous indignation on your behalf.

“Well, she’s a fool for letting you go.” She squeezes your leg.

“I can’t claim to understand what’s going through her head, but you have to know her feelings aren’t a reflection on your worth. You are the glue that holds this team together and we all love you. Natasha, she…” she pauses, “she’s been through much. More than any of us will ever know. Her experiences have closed her off. But you’re both strong. Maybe you’re not meant to be, but I know you can bounce back from this. We have a few weeks before we’re due back and, in that time, I guarantee you we can get your spirit back up and bouncing like usual.”

“Damn right, we can!” You hear Sam interrupt from the front of the plane.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and let out a light laugh.

Yeah, things weren’t okay.

But maybe they will be.

xxxx

The mission goes off without a hitch and it does wonders for your confidence. As soon as you landed at the safehouse, you and your team had set to work securing the perimeter and preparing for your upcoming roles in the undercover mission. Sam moved first, infiltrating the ranks of the dealers as he uncovered the hierarchy of the operation and fed maria intel to pass on to headquarters. You and Wanda were posed as a wealthy young couple from new money, tasked with getting close to the heads of the drug ring in order to gain access to the final auction where you ultimately took down the entire operation with the aid of several agents.

Despite the smooth execution, you all still found yourselves with extra downtime between stakeouts and it led to the four of you growing closer. One of your favorite pastimes became group binge-watches of The Fairly Odd Parents and Wanda had taken to calling you Cosmo, the husband of her cartoon namesake.

           “ETA: 5 minutes,” called out Hill.

From your seat, you could see the compound looming over the horizon. You take in a nervous breath and release.

Next to you, Wanda can feel your apprehensive tension and takes a moment to give your hand a firm squeeze.

“You’re okay, Cosmo. Remember our talks. You have strength. You know your worth. You’ll be fine.”

You send her a grateful smile and a nod. Your fingers squeeze her back briefly before you move to stand by the doors of the ramp as you hear the jet begin to touch down.

She’s right. During your time away, you came to terms with the fact that it’s not Natasha’s fault that she doesn’t feel the same way as you do. You know you have no control over other people’s feelings, and you owed it to the both of you to face this head on, maturely.

As soon as the jet’s ramp meets the floor of the hangar, you’re met with a wall of pure muscle that really should come with a warning label. Your feet are lifted off the ground and suddenly you’re swinging in circles. You laugh as Bucky’s long hair tickles your nose.

Wait a second.

Is that?

“James Buchanan Barnes. Put me down this instant.”

He stiffens. That’s his name. That’s who he is. He is James Buchanan Barnes. Former sergeant and integral member of the Howling Commandos. The Winter Soldier. Melted down and reforged by Hydra. He was a legend. He was a nightmare. He was feared. He was… terrified.

Christ. Hearing his full name falling out of your mouth in that tone never failed to instill the fear of God into him. Not even his ma, bless her soul, could quite measure up to the intimidating aura you exuded when he knew you were ready to tan his hide.

You stood before him, hands on your hips, feet shoulder width apart, stance strong, eyebrow peaked… and deadly.

“Did you break into my room and steal my hair mask… again?”

The others stand back, watching in amusement while he starts to sweat.

“D-doll, of course not! You explicitly told m-me your room was off limits while you were go-”

You cut him off as you step closer.

“Don’t you lie to me, Barnes,” your eyes narrow and he gulps when you push your face closer to his.

“I can smell the macadamia oil, you heathen.”

Just as you’re about to launch into a lecture about respecting other people’s belongings, you’re interrupted by the sound of Steve’s voice.

“You gotta admit, at least it’s better than smelling the greasy mop he always ends up with after training.”

Your entire demeanor lightens up as you whip around to take a running leap at your favorite Man with a Plan.

“STEVIE!”

He catches you in his arms. “Good to have you back, sugar. We missed you around here.”

You hear a soft exhale of relief come from behind you.

Tilting your head back from where you’re perched in Steve’s arms, you narrow your eyes at Bucky and make a silent gesture to indicate you’re watching him. This is far from over.

He gulps.

“Well, c’mon then, we’re all dying to hear how the mission went. The others are waiting for you in the lounge.”

You stay wrapped around your friend’s dorito shaped torso but make the effort to wriggle your way around him so you’re clinging to his back like an infant koala. He rolls his eyes but does nothing to deter you, choosing to move his arms in support of your legs instead.

“Onward, my trusty steed!” you giggle.

As one, you all make your way towards the main common area, taking the time to drop off your luggage in your respective rooms as you go. Eventually, you make your way to the lounge and as you’re carried in, F.R.I.D.A.Y. blasts the loud trumpets of a herald through her speakers.

Huh, Tony must’ve upgraded her sense of humor.

Greeting the others, you use your hands in Steve’s hair like an oversized rat with a penchant for cooking to guide him towards your favorite lounge chair. Sam and Wanda move towards the kitchen to look for the good snacks they couldn’t have undercover while everyone else gathers around the remaining lounges.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Natasha hovering off to the side near Clint but you can’t quite get yourself to make eye contact yet. You wait for everyone to settle in. Wanda approaches you with two mugs of tea in her hands offering you one with a “just the way you like it, Cosmo”. It’s punctuated with a wink and she perches herself on the arm of your seat, bringing her own around to rest across the back. Her hand finds its way to your hair playing with a few strands to keep you grounded while you purposefully train your eyes away from a certain side of the room.

Wanda really did become your rock in the weeks away. While you never repeated anything from the night of your party, you fell into an easy companionship with the young mutant that led to you each being comfortable around the other. She knew how hard your return would be for you and made it her next mission to make sure you knew you had a solid support system in place.

Seeing the close interaction between the two of you, Bucky and Steve both shoot you cheeky grins and eyebrow wiggles that have you holding up a throw pillow just under Wanda’s current line of sight. She glances down, smirks and hurls the pillow at the two men using her powers, ensuring she adds a boomerang effect to ricochet off the face of one in order to hit the other stunning both of them.

“Nice!” You give her an enthusiastic high five as she wiggles her fingers at the recovering men.

“I just learned that one on the job. I have to keep practicing for muscle memory.” She states in a faux haughty tone while you snicker at the indignation on your Brooklyn Boys’ faces.

Across the room, Natasha watches you. She knew she missed you while you were away, but nothing could have prepared her for the onslaught of emotions that crashed into her when she finally laid eyes on you after weeks apart. You still had the same mischievous spark in your eyes. Your nose still crinkled just the slightest bit when you laughed. Your smile could still light up an entire room like the Fourth of July.

God, she missed you.

She watches your raucous banter with the resident super-soldiers with a fond smile teasing the corners of her lips. She takes note of the casual arm slung across your shoulders, the hand tangled in your hair, and something inside of her burns. Her jaw clenches.

She’s not yours to have.

Clint nudges her shoulder with a pointed look. She realizes she’s been emitting a soft growl. Focus Romanoff! Where is your training? She strains but ultimately fixes her posture until she’s the posterchild for casual aloofness. Her best friend snickers but chooses not to comment on the slight rigidity he can see in her shoulders.

Tony claps his hands to gain everyone’s attention.

“Alright alright, Hermione’s new parlor tricks aside, we all know why we’re really here.”

In his best imitation of Fury’s gruff voice, he growls out, “Hill. Debrief report. Judgement on (y/hero/n)’s execution?”

Rolling her eyes but playing along, “All objectives executed to perfection. Leadership skills exemplary, sir!” she tosses in a mock salute.

It’s quiet before everyone breaks into cheers and congratulate you and your team on a successful job well done. You’re beaming when you hear Sam chime in with, “You better watch out Cap. (Y/l/n) could give you a run for your money as team captain. We might be shipping you to a retirement home sooner than we thought.

Your best friend grins at you with pride and mirth shining in his eyes and you feel warm inside.

“I think we could come to a truce and work together. Co-captain sound good to you doll?”

“I don’t think so Steve. I’ll leave the captaincy to you. I don’t think I could handle dragging the metal chicken wing over there back in line every day,” you respond with a laugh, sticking your tongue out at Sam. You draw out a squawk of offense and everyone bursts into laughter.

You turn your head slightly and find yourself making direct eye contact with the very same pair of vivid green eyes that still visit you in your dreams. You swallow down the rising emotions and offer her a small smile. She looks startled at first but relaxes slightly and gives you one of her own in return.

Maybe you could do this.

You spend a few more minutes catching up with the rest of the team, learning about what everyone has been up to while you were away. Checking the time, you slowly pull away from Wanda, who still has her weight resting on you, and announce that you’re going to head to your room to wash off and settle in before you have to fill out your mission reports.

Everyone bids you goodnight and you exit the room, walking the familiar pathway towards your own residence. Your ears pick up quiet footsteps behind you causing you to turn your head slightly.

A small sharp inhale escapes your lips. Your eyes betray you with a quick scan of her nervous form standing in front of you. Her hair is a little longer and the circles under her eyes are just the slightest shade darker. She still looks just as breathtaking as the day you walked out of her room. Her presence instantly brings you peace and you curse yourself under your breath.

Mentally slapping yourself, you plaster on a casual smile.

“Hey Nat. Been a while.”

You cringe.

Really? Been a while? Really?

She steps towards you, “Hi (y/n/n),” she responds softly.

“Listen I-”

“Can we-”

You both let out a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry. Go ahead, you first,” she says.

“Listen, Nat. I owe you an apology.”

She stills. What could you possibly have to apologize for? You’re not the one who broke the heart of the love of your life just because you had commitment issues.

Stop that. She’s not your love of anything.

She opens her mouth to interrupt but you press on.

“It wasn’t fair of me to try to push you into something you clearly weren’t comfortable with. You made it clear that you didn’t love me the way I loved you. I never wanted to make you feel like I would demand anything of you. You’re more than entitled to your own feelings and it wasn’t okay for me to project what I felt onto you.”

Frozen in place, her mind could only focus on two words.

Loved? Felt?

And didn’t that sting?

She can feel her throat start to constrict but she goes along with it.

Maybe it’s for the best.

“It’s okay (y/n/n). I understand where you came from and I’m partially to blame for letting things go on for as long as they did without taking your feelings into consideration.

“Friends?”

A small, okay large, part of her brain screamed in agony that this was wrong.

Instead, she smiles and nods opening her arms.

You gingerly step into her embrace, one arm comes up holding her shoulder while the other gently cups the back of her head in a familiar hold.

Her arms come up to wrap themselves around your middle, squeezing slightly.

If either of you noticed the other inhale just a little deeper, neither of you chose to comment.

xxxx

Several weeks go by and you’ve settled back into a familiar routine. Wanda has officially been adopted into you and your boys’ infamous trio and the brunette witch could often be seen joining in on your foolish antics around the compound. At first, the three made a pact to ensure you would never be exposed to prolonged periods of alone time with the woman who damaged your tender heart. Often times, you’d catch yourself alone with the assassin only for one of the others to immediately swoop in to whisk you away and drag you into some activity before you could draw each other into a prolonged conversation

It took you a few days to catch on to what your friends were doing. While the sentiment was greatly appreciated, you couldn’t miss the slight look of hurt that crossed Natasha’s face whenever you were pulled away from her. Eventually, you had to put your foot down, taking them aside one day. You told them that you loved them and appreciated their concern. But you’re an adult and you can handle your affairs well enough on your own.

They backed off but still continued to keep a wary lookout. They couldn’t help it. You were their favorite.

Your interactions with the devastatingly gorgeous avenger were still a little stunted and you both miss the longing stares you direct towards each other on occasion. Still, you’re getting better.

It still hurts sometimes but you’re okay as long as you still have her in your life. In any capacity.

You think you’re getting better. It stills hurts but you’re okay as long as you still have her in your life.

xxxx

You’re in the gym talking to Sam one afternoon as he spots you in the weights section while Natasha and Clint are sparring on the mats.

“The team’s decided to make an appearance at a new nightclub Aluminum Alloy Man bought out on a dare tonight. You in, sugar?”

You laugh at the latest nickname he’s given Stark but shake your head no.

“Sorry Sam but I’ve got a date.”

You hear a particularly loud grunt come from Clint and turn your head slightly to see Natasha apologizing while he’s doubled over catching his breath.

“Oh? Anyone we know?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

You roll your eyes.

“With myself, you dork. I’ve been dying to watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail and I finally have the downtime to sit through it. There’s a bottle of wine and a couch calling my name and I intend to capitalize.”

He laughs but nods understandingly.

“That’s fair. You good here? I better head out to get ready.”

“Yeah, yeah, you go ahead. Have fun tonight!” You wave him off wiping the sweat off the back of your neck with a damp towel.

“(Y/L/N)!” You hear your name called out from across the gym.

“Care to spar? Clint’s tapping out. He’s a wuss.”

You start to hesitate but choose to nod instead, stepping into the ring, setting your towel on the rope to dry.

You begin to circle one another assessing each other’s weaknesses. She makes the first move lashing out with a swift kick to your ankle, aiming to leave you off balance. You dodge out of the way and retaliate with a series of jabs towards her torso. This goes on for several minutes each of you landing several hits when Natasha launches herself off your bent knee, intending to use her signature thigh grip of death to bring you down.

Not today, Satan.

You bring your arms up, wedging them between your neck and her legs before she can get a grip. You latch onto her legs tightly before you swing her around your body, tackling her to the floor. You move your hand to cradle the back of her head to ensure it doesn’t smack into the ground, bringing yourself much closer to her body in the process.

You’re both panting heavily, stuck, mesmerized by the intense look in each other’s eyes. You have one leg between her thighs, knee pressed to her core, puffs of air intermingling between you.

Is she? Leaning towards you?

Oh, you definitely felt that wiggle of her hips against your knee.

You wet towel drops to the floor with a wet smack and just like that, the spell is broken.

You both scramble apart and you move to pick up the offending object.

Behind you, Natasha clears her throat sheepishly.

“So, I couldn’t help but overhear your big plans for tonight while you were talking to Wilson. Is there room for one more? I was actually planning to do the same, but I hear Monty Python is much funnier with good company.”

Everything inside of you screams that this is a terrible idea. But here’s the thing, you thrived off of terrible ideas.

“Sure, why not? We can start when everyone else heads out?”

Sure you would have declined, she brightens considerably and throws you a grin.

She starts walking backwards towards the door.

“Great! It’s a date! I mean- not a date-”

She smacks herself right into the door.

You let out a small laugh.

“I know what you meant.”

“Right. Yes. I’ll see you tonight!” She scurries out the door.

You stay standing there in the ring watching the space she just occupied.

On the other side of the door, Natasha leans heavily against the metal.

What have I gotten myself into?

xxxx

You bid goodbye to your friends and make sure to tell them to call you should they need anything. Once everyone is out the door, you turn around, inhale deeply, and set to work.

Despite everything, and your unfailing determination to not fall down the same rabbit hole, you can’t help but want to take care of Natasha in any capacity you can.

So, you take extra care to grab her favorite snacks, her go-to brand of wine, a couple glasses, and an oversized hoodie you always kept in the back of the closet, on hand just for her. She had a tendency to relax in thinner loungewear, but you knew once she settled in, she stubbornly refused to get up for anything no matter how cold she got.

As you set everything down on the coffee table in front of the oversized, plush couch in the center of the movie room, the beauty in question makes her way towards you in, surprise surprise, a thin tank top and shorts.

You roll your eyes but toss her your sweatshirt and she grins at you before hastily throwing it on, snuggling into the warmth. You both settle onto opposite sides of the couch, the wine and snacks split between you. The movie plays and you find yourselves relaxing. Like magnets, you eventually gravitate towards each other, sharing jokes and snacks, yelling at the large screen in front of you as the Black Knight stubbornly refuses to die.

Without realizing each other’s movements, she winds up leaning against you while your arm is wrapped around alternating between playing with her hair and rubbing soothing patterns across her shoulder and biceps.

You feel a shudder come from the deadly ball of fluff in your arms and only then do you realize your positions. You can’t bring yourself to move.

“Cold?”

“Yeah,” she nods. Attempting to burrow herself further into your clothes.

You pull her closer to you until her legs are resting over yours, head tucked under your chin, puffs of air tickling your sensitive neck.

Bad move (y/l/n).

You forget how to breathe. Natasha turns to look at you when she feels you still beneath her.

Oh. Oh god.

She didn’t realize how close she was to you and from this distance, she can see every detail of your ethereal beauty in the dim light of the movie lighting.

You turn your head to take a quick peak at her but suddenly you’re drowning in a sea of green. Your breath hitches when green is replaced by red and suddenly plump lips are crushing your own.

You moan and your hands scramble for purchase as the angel in your lap twists to straddle you. Fists tighten in your hair while she nips at your lower lip, close to drawing blood. She tugs at your shirt and you get the message. You desperately rip away your top while she follows suit before she pushes you onto your back spreading out on top of you.

A loud groan escapes your lips as the vixen in your arms finds the sensitive space right below your ear. Unwilling to be out done, you wrap your legs around her hips and gracefully flip yourselves over, trailing kisses down the crevice of her breasts, mapping your way down her body. Like Copernicus charting the stars. Reaching your destination, you pull apart the draw strings of her shorts with nothing but your teeth, earning a moan of approval from the writhing redhead. You smoothly slide back up her body, meeting her desperate lips in a searing kiss while your hand finds her center, already feeling the slick wetness ready for you. Natasha’s limbs fly to wrap around you as you set a steady pace pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Knowing she needs the extra push, your other hand moves to pull aside her bra before you deliver a harsh nip and a firm curl of your fingers.

She sees stars.

No.

She sees galaxies.

You continue to move, determined to prolong her pleasure for as long as possible.

You’re rewarded with the crack of her voice as she hurdles into the abyss.

“God, I fucking love you.”

It slips out of your mouth completely unbidden.

But it’s too late.

The damage can’t be undone.

Just like that, she snaps back to reality.

She hastily sits up. Your hand falls back into your lap as she quickly stands picking up her shirt.

“We can’t do this.”

“Natasha, I-”

“No.”

“Natasha, would you jus-”

“I said no!”

You feel like you’ve been here before.

She turns to make a hasty retreat, but you catch her hand in a tight grip before she can get too far.

“Why do you keep running from me? Am I so repulsive that the thought of being with me has you running for the hills?”

“Not everything is about you, (y/l/n),” she bites out.

Neither of you hear the team returning but all of them can hear the yelling coming from your direction and they run towards you.

“No. You always do this! Every time I think we’ve gotten to a good place; you freeze me out.”

“That’s the thing! We were in a good place! We were having fun. We had each other when we needed it and nothing more! We were so good like that. We can still be like that!”

Tears fill your eyes.

“It’s not enough.”

“Why can’t this be enough?!” she cries.

“This has to be enough,” she whispers looking at anything but you.

A hand moves to grip hers gently. The other rises to cup her chin to guide her eyes to yours.

“This could be so much more. Let me love you the way you deserve.”

Staring into your eyes, she can see you dying a little more inside the longer she stays silent.

She pulls away from you.

Okay.

You thought you could be fine with just floating in her orbit. Maybe you underestimated how long it would take for you to heal enough to allow it. Or maybe you couldn’t do this at all.

Your head tilts towards the floor. Your lips break into the softest, most heart-breaking smile she’s ever seen.

“I’m always going to love you Natasha Romanoff. But I owe it to the both of us to know this won’t be enough for me. This can’t be enough for me.”

A whimper is caught in her throat but she can’t bring herself to move when you step back away from her.

“I love you. I don’t want to,” you breathe out.

Natasha swears she hears something inside her shatter.

“I’m sorry I don’t give you the strength you need to pursue your own happiness. I really hope you find someone who does. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

You make me happy.

Just say it!

Her body screams in protest with every fiber of her being.

“Bye Tasha.”

You turn and only then do you realize that the two of you aren’t alone.

Wanda steps forward. She wraps her arms around your shoulders as she leads you away throwing a glare at the assassin.

Natasha takes a step in your direction.

“(Y/n) wait-”

She stopped by a metal arm blocking her way.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Bucky growls.

“And what do you know about what I’ve done?” She shoves him away.

“I know you hurt them! AGAIN!” he snarls, “You need to get your shit together before I’ll even THINK about letting you come anywhere NEAR (y/n) again, Romanoff.”

Her blood boils. She scoffs, “Big surprise, their guard dog immediately snaps to attention at the first sign of trouble. Tell me Barnes, does your master feed you well?”

She regrets her outburst immediately, but she’s too angry, too frustrated, too exhauseted to take it back.

“Don’t forget who trained you, Natalia,” comes out in a menacing hiss.

Frantically, Clint’s eyes snap from her to the ex-soldier advancing on her. He immediately steps between the two, placing a hand on her arm and turning towards the larger assassin.

“Whoa now, you know she didn’t mean that. Emotions are just running high right now. Let’s all take a step back. I could use a hand, Cap.”

Despite his own roiling emotions, he needs to maintain his professionalism as team captain, releasing a heavy puff of air, he moves to place a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder, pulling him to his side.

“Clint’s right. We can’t do anything to fix this right now. Everyone, disperse. We’ll regroup in the morning.” He sends a piercing glare at the redhead.

Hearing another growl, Clint whips his head back around, “As entertaining as it would be to make a compound wide betting pool with Tony on a wwe rumble between you and two tag-teaming super soldiers, maybe we should take a second to cool off outside, yeah” he hisses at her.

Gritting her teeth, she nods, allowing Clint to pull her down the hall and out the door.

As she catches a glimpse of the hall leading to your room, all she can think is one thing.

She let you slip through her fingers… again.

Tagging some incredible people who expressed an interest in pt. 2:

guys im so fucking sorry this keeps showing up in your mentions.

@natasha-danvers , @thelastavenger-3000 , @ohfuckno , @imnotasuperhero

[jbbuckybarnes]

Spiral of Feelings - 3/5

Pairing: Bucky x Reader AU: Fake Dating AU Description: Natasha makes you feel bad about being single and how your apartment looks. Sam and Steve annoy Bucky about dating. Seems only fair that you both fake it to show them that it doesn’t make a difference. But what if it does? Warnings: Softness, fluff, food, unhealthy food, binge eating pretty much, (not beta read)

Masterlist // Spiral of Feelings Masterlist

There were bright lights coming at you from everywhere. One of Stark’s events with the Avengers and you hated them. Not all of it, the food was good, but the paparazzi weren’t and neither was the press overall. The moment you stepped into the room and away from the cameras you felt the eyes of multiple journalists gluing themselves to you. And the eyes of a certain idiot that gave you a supportive smile. “What do you think about the decision of Steve Rogers giving the shield to Sam Wilson?” “I support it. The man had enough stuff to deal with his entire life. He deserves a break and Sam is really great at his job already. He was made to take over the mantle in my opinion.” “Does it bother you that there aren’t more women on the team?” “No, of course it would be nice to have more women on the team but I don’t mind the way it is right now.” “Any partner in the picture or is dating impossible as an Avenger?” “It’s not impossible but it’s also not something I talk about in interviews.” “Thank you so much. Can you tell us what you’re wearing tonight before I say goodbye?” “Manolo shoes, Dior dress, Tiffany’s necklace, bag by...I actually don’t know, I just borrowed it from one of the girls.”

“Are you uncomfortable?” You heard right next to you in a soft tone shortly after when you were standing at the bar of the event hall. “A little.” You looked up at Bucky in an all black outfit, typical. A cold hand sneaked into yours and squeezed you lightly while he gave you an understanding little smile. “You really take this serious, huh?” You smiled. “Of course, don’t want you to feel shitty. Also, maybe I’m gonna throw the next person asking you about your dating life out of the window over there.” He nudged his head towards a specific window. “Kinda wanna see that, but also kinda wanna save you the bad press, just let me do it with words, alright?” You chuckled with your previously encapsulated hand reaching for the glas of Rosé and his hand landing on the small of your back. “Too bad, would’ve loved to bring some actual interesting vibe into this party.” He chuckled. “Maybe when it’s not a charity event.” You laughed. You were sitting on the roof of the event hall after most of the important people of the evening were gone. He sat down next to you shortly after and you just stared at the city in silence for a while. “It’s kinda nice to have someone to be silent with,” he said after setting down the empty wine glass next to him. “Yeah, it’s something special.” You smiled into the night. “I thought silence was bad for so long. You know, cause of the war and all the other stuff,” he mumbled and made you look over to him. “I get that. Silence can be so awful in the wrong situations.” You let your hand run over his arm and he looked over too. “I never told anyone that,” he whispered a little bit baffled by himself. “Is that good or bad?” He chuckled, “I don’t know.” “I’m glad you told me,” you mumbled. “It’s not that big of a deal.” He shrugged. “Yes, it is,” you answered and got a long stare back for it. “Uh.” You got him out of the awkward stare, “Can I have your jacket?” There was a small smile and a nod before he put it around your shoulders. “It should be more acceptable to wear a jacket around your waist with a dress,” you said dryly. “You could pull it off like this.” He grinned while padding down the shoulders. “Thanks.” Another of your real blushes creeped up. “So...are we gonna start with pet names soon? Can’t wait to see Sam’s disgusted face.” He chuckled. “Sure, honey.” You gave a charming smile with the nickname. “Alright, princess.” He winked before standing up and pulling you to your feet shortly after. “Good morning, Bucky Bear. Thanks for carrying me half of the way home.” You grinned up at him the next morning, half of the team still asleep, but he was already having your arms around his neck. “Of course, princess.” He smiled back with his arms around your waist, head kinda cloudy from the situation you had just put him in. His lips landed on your forehead and you pouted with big innocent eyes. “Stop looking at me so convincingly cute.” He grinned while booping your nose. “You both are really testing my gag reflex,” Sam commented from the table behind. “I could say something right now but I won’t.” You grinned and actually saw him almost choke on the next bite he had taken. Planting the picture of something so sexual in his head was your favorite part about this whole fake dating thing. Giving Sam a taste of his own medicine. “Can you get me the chocolate chips from the upper shelf, baby?” You went back to pouting at your fake boyfriend. His metal hand played with your hair for a second before he finally got himself to actually do you the favor of searching for the container on the top shelf. “Thank you, boo.” You smiled at him sweet and gave him a peck on the cheek before sprinting to the table.

Bucky noticed first how deep he got himself into this mess when he started thinking about you while doing the most mundane things. You might like this ice cream, you would love to travel to the place in that article, you’d enjoy playing this game, that’s a recipe he should try for you one day, that necklace would look good around your neck. All he could do was hoping that it would pass soon. Deep inside he knew that it was wishful thinking, but he was sure you didn’t like him like this way that much at the end of the day. This situation was just a way you both could go your own paths again, right? He closed the magazine he was reading, grabbed his phone and ordered some food to the compound, thinking about what you would like. Maybe vegetarian? Not too spicy? With a dessert, definitely. There was no question about you and your love for sweetness.

With a content smile and a 25 minute timer on his phone he continued reading articles. It wouldn’t be weird to bring you food, would it? His mind was full of this or that on the way to the kitchen, getting a serving tray, cutlery and glasses. “What’s your plan?” He heard behind him and froze. “Uh, bringing her some food cause she’s been working on reports all day,” he answered his best friend in the door frame. Feeling a little caught in the act. “She makes you soft again,” Steve smirked. “Is that a good or a bad thing?” He asked raising his brow. “A good thing. I missed that part of you.” He grinned before the alarm on Bucky’s phone went off and he sprinted to the lobby of the compound.

A few knocks on your apartment door got you out of your search for a word that isn’t ‘then’. “Yeah?” You yelled. “It’s me.” Bucky’s voice came back. “I’m working,” you answered. “I brought food.” You heard the amusement. He knew. “Come in,” you said and heard the door open in a split second. “Ignore the...whatever, you already know the gist.” You shook your head and saw him step in front of you from the little corridor in your apartment. Your eyes went big and his smile simultaneously bigger, “Woah. That’s a lot.” “Thought you might be hungry after all the work.” He shrugged and set the tray down on the bed behind you. “I’ve been trying to find synonyms for the last 5 minutes. Wouldn’t exactly call that hard work.” You chuckled.

He gestured you to come to him after he sat down on your little marshmallow cloud bed. He looked so incredibly mismatched compared to the big white bed but also incredibly cozy in his black sweatpants and the Brooklyn College sweater. You leaped over to the bed and started unpacking the things he gave to you. “Woah, cheese pasta with tomato flakes? A mini funghi pizza? Triple chocolate chip cookies!!! BROWNIES WITH CHOCOLATE SYRUP!!! BUCKY! ARE YOU INSANE!?” He grinned apologetic for going a little overboard, “Didn’t know what you might like.” “Those are all my orders whenever I need soul food. You knew, don’t lie.” You squinted. “No, well, I knew the brownies with chocolate syrup.” He smiled and it reached his eyes. “You’re husband material,” you stated and leaned over to kiss his cheek. He didn’t hide the blushing face that action resulted in. “Uh, thanks,” he mumbled reaching for his wrap. “You wanna watch a show?” You asked after taking a bite from the pasta. “Sure.” He shrugged and watched you reaching for the remote to your TV. He couldn’t get enough of the domestic mood you permanently emitted from you, especially in your personal safe space.

By the end of it, you were cuddled up on his lap with a darker episode on the screen and a hand wandering over your legs soothingly. “Your hair smells good,” he mumbled. “Strawberry, thanks.” You looked up and had his face was closer than you expected. There was a fond smile on his face, “Sorry, am I too-” “No, I like it like this. Feels comfy.” He pulled you closer. “Okay, but tell me when I make you uncomfortable,” you whispered before leaning against him again and continuing the show. “You won’t.”

[girlobsessed21]

My thoughts on The 100 7x05

Hey, guys,

Sorry for not doing any comments on the last two episodes. I’ve been a little busy and I struggled to connect to the show, so it hindered my enjoyment, but it’s all better now. Liked episode 4 and 5 was even better, jampacked with info and it answered a lot of questions.

Welcome to Bardo

Badass Octavia is da bomb (people don’t say that anymore, right?). When she was captured in episode two, I thought she had lost her fighting spirit, but it’s back, bitches. Well, until she runs into an invisible wall trying to escape. She’s captured and transported to M-cap (whatever that means). Then we get a welcome little flashback to Lincoln but it’s obvious that Bellamy would be the hand reaching out. He’s her rock, like she’s expressed many times.

Unlike John Murphy who is not quite a friend, or family and definitely not a lover. Introducing so many new characters in the final season of a show is never a good idea, because this is the time to wrap up all the stories of the existing ones, but come on, who cannot love Levitt. Even when he first meets Octavia, he doesn’t want to hurt her. Jason, you better not harm one hair on this precious little puppy’s head!

As he binges The 100 through Octavia’s eyes, he starts rooting for her, and he actually gives a damn, unlike most people on this show. He understands her strengths and weaknesses and he makes her see it too. “You’re a warrior to be sure, but your heart is pure.” Wow, what an honest and beautiful line. (Scroll down for my shipping comments.)

So is O and Hope’s fleeting little reunion. It’s amazing to experience this deep loving side of Octavia after her darkness. She’s truly one of the most diverse and developed characters on the series. Now Hope and her resilience is quickly making it to the top as well.

While Hope is trying to send her back home, we learn that memory loss is due to the time dilation. One quick note on this, it’s not linear, there’s no easy equation to calculate it unless you’re Stephen Hawking or Einstein. I don’t think it’s constant either. 10 years on Skyring = 11 days on Bardo = a few minutes on Sanctum. In the current time, 5 years on Skyring = 1 day on Sanctum = 7 days on Bardo. So, it’s clear that the planets are moving, and other factors are playing into the phenomenon. It’s more important to understand the time relative to each planet.

Levitt was the one who tattooed Hope’s code onto O’s back, also the one who planted the note into Hope’s arm. Indeed the kind of man you want on the inside, he even accepts a blow to the face as thank you.

Sheep-ish?

Thirty minutes on the clock and the trio gets led to a congregation to praise the shepherd. I never thought it was Anders, I do, however think it might be Cadogan. The Bordoan’s built the underground forest because they destroyed their planet. Ugh, what’s new? The shepherd herded his sheep from earth to Bardo via the stone. Cadogan and his second dawn cult?

Back to Clarke. So, after last episode I thought ‘the key to winning the last war’ line was an artifice for luring Clarke to disciples, but now it’s clearly true. They’ve located the key and they will win the last war. Levitt was interested in Clarke surviving the City of Light with the flame in her head, they probably assume she still has it. Cadogan burned Becca alive. Could it be because of the flame? Is this all because of that damn little chip that can’t seem to die?

Bellamy is not dead, I repeat, Bellamy is not dead! I believe that memory could be staged or implanted for a reason. Also, there’s no body, he jumped through the bridge. In the promo photos, he wears a ring but his actions towards Octavia seem a little cold and generic. On first watch, I thought it was bad acting but if he was programmed to do this, it makes sense.

Note the sequence of events. Octavia returned 7 days ago and was asked to talk her brother down, but we don’t see the actual scene. Instead we’re shown a memory. They could have implanted it to make her vulnerable and perhaps more susceptible to the procedure. I don’t know, but this theory could lead to Robot-sheep!Bellamy on Nakara, where he’ll encounter Clarke and the gang.

I have to be honest, I really don’t like this character arc for Bellamy. It’s unoriginal and a mime of Peeta’s storyline in Mockingjay. Sorry, but so far it feels like the writers were so over the show, they just wanted to get it done. And that attitude really bleeds into one’s creative concepts. I could be completely wrong, in fact, I hope I am.

Echo spins a Finn

My word, I lost the love of my life once, but I sure didn’t kill anyone. When Echo received that vision of Roan, I was hoping for some progression on her individual arc, they’ve made me care about her, and now we get the opposite. Why? One thing I have to admit, a killer performance from Tasya Teles! No pun intended.

Look, this show hasn’t explored Bellamy and Echo’s relationship enough to make her murder believable. It was the exact same thing with Finn. I wasn’t invested in Finn and Clarke’s connection, so his actions of killing a grounder tribe was more repulsive than understandable. Sure, Echo loves Bellamy and her sole purpose is to save him, but I’ve never truly witnessed their love for each other. They had one or two intimate scenes which cannot compel a deed like this. And in the process, she screwed Hope and Diyoza.

Anyway, I don’t think there’s any coming back from it. She murdered an innocent person in cold blood. That’s sure to open a door to the dark side.  Just look at Octavia after killing Pike and her actions were justified by jus drein jus daun.

Say Sanctum three times slowly and it sounds like… Sanctum

Blind faith

Look, I’m just gonna come out and say this song is getting old. Every episode featuring Sanctum is the exact same thing with different lines. Can we please move on from it, already? Yes, we know the COG want Russel dead, and the adjusters will go to extreme lengths to free Russel and the prisoners are background noise.

I did appreciate Nelson stepping in to try and save the girl, though. Still doesn’t save the fact that it’s repetitive. The Sanctum plotline is really struggling to take shape and I hope it happens soon. Dramatic eyeroll.

At least in the drought of a desert, you can always count on Murphy. “…I say we live and let die.” Typical cockroach line, right, but it’s ironic when he’s the one to step up, even if it is for Emori. Under the magnifying glass it’s the exact same plot as episode 1 and 3. He hesitates to take action, and eventually becomes the hero.

I mean, he saved that poor kid from being burned alive. Can you imagine sacrificing your own child in such a horrific away? Cults are beyond whacked, and, unfortunately, it’s reality that cult members are so blinded by their faith that they do not see rhyme or reason.

How did Murphy fail that test? I didn’t. When Trey named the four pillars, I thought, isn’t rejoice one of them? Surely, a cockroach would have smelled that trap a mile away.

Indra the great

Can we just give a massive round of applause to Adina Porter!!! That powerhouse walk vibrates strength and majesty, damn, she should be a false god, I wouldn’t dare threaten her with or without an army.

Three little words was all it took for her to recognize evil. “There’s a spider on your shoulder.” Smooth. Too bad she can’t kill him. Why not, how many of the faithful are left to cause an uproar? Wonkru doesn’t know it’s Sheidheda, they won’t care, the COG will fall in line and the prisoners will be happy as long as they get their compound. Sorry, I don’t get it and I don’t understand why she doesn’t tell anyone.  Someone please explain?

Granted, JR Bourne as Russel is way better, but I still don’t understand his actions. I hope they explore and explain him more, because he still feels flat unless he knows something of this final war. I’m hoping these two storylines align soon since it’s really driving a wedge between me and my love for the show.

Shipwreck

I’ll start with the easy stuff, Murphy, Emori and the perfect dress gets a heart eye emoji from me. They are so damn cute this season, can they please live happily ever after in the palace?

Octabriel vs Levittavia

Now, I enjoy Levitt fangirling over Octavia. I feel like he has a deep sense of her through her memories. If I have to root for an underdeveloped relationship, it will have to be one where the characters share thoughts and experiences even if it is through a sick, sci-fi procedure.

On the other hand, Gabriel and Octavia have immense chemistry, two seconds of them together bends my mouth into an “Aah, cute” pout. This will also add some approval and representation for mixed racial relationships.

I really don’t mind either way as long as they make me care through showing and not telling.

Bellarke

So, if my theory is correct, and Bellamy does end up on Nakara, Bellarke will encounter each other quite soon. Bellamy won’t be himself though, but he might pretend to be Bellamy to win Clarke’s co-operation. Is there hope for Bellarke yet?

Echo is now trotting a dangerous path and Bellamy might be pledged to a cause, so I doubt there will be a happy ending for Becho. Since 7x01 I’ve been thinking that the writers might want to develop something between Clarke and Gaia but if they are separated, is there enough time? Guess we’ll see.

This monster of a review is finally done… If you read through everything, you deserve a gold star! Let me know what you think, till we meet again…

[byunsboyz]

Jamais Vu - Part Two

Exo Fanfiction

Baekhyun x Female Reader

Warnings: none? 

Genre: Fluff/Angst

W/C: 3507

Part One Part Three

_____________________________________________________________

You watch as Baekhyun turns away from your front door and disappears inside the next apartment.

No way.

*Slam*

Shit.

************************************************************************

Later that night you lie wide awake. 

Replaying the interaction over and over in your head.

Each time making you want to sink further into a hole of shame. 

Guess it’s time to become a recluse? 

You groan out loud as you roll over and try to shake all thoughts of Byun Baekhyun from your mind.

You nose fills with the smell of fresh cotton and magnolia that seeps out of your sheets from the movement. 

“Byun Baekhyun is that you? It’s y/n from university! Wow, what are the chances….” 

All the things you should have said verbalising in your mind when its already too late.

He would have realised and you both would have laughed and reminisced but no!

You knocked him over, stole his groceries and invaded his personal space.

Your chest feels tight with regret and embarrassment. 

You can’t even remember the last time you were left speechless, probably because you stopped letting your guard down a long time ago. 

You clutch your pillow against your face and let out the frustrated yell that you’ve been holding in all evening. 

The next morning you make sure to leave your apartment early. 

The main reason being that it’s your first day in a new department and you want to get into work to set up early and talk to the Director of Corporate Accounting, Mr Do regarding the accounts you’ll be managing.

You also want to have a quick check-in with Jaehyun to make sure he has everything he needs in place to start managing your old team. 

But NOT because you’re planning on avoiding Baekhyun until your lease runs out. 

Because that would be ridiculous...

“You’re being ridiculous!” 

You sigh, as you friend Aria scolds you on your lunch break.

“I don’t know what you mean” you huff, stuffing a tuna maki roll into your mouth.

Aria has been your best friend since you joined Kim & Partners almost six years ago. 

You often grab lunch at the small ramen restaurant around the corner from your company.

You both started at the same time and hit it off during your induction week.

Aria worked in the IT systems department and helped develop and manage aspects of the different software systems used at the company. 

You were utterly clueless and would often be on the phone to the support desk because you’d managed to crash or break something that should be impossible. 

Aria knew of Baekhyun, you had drunkenly ranted to her about him a few years back triggered by him leaving you a dry happy birthday message on your SNS page. 

You’d told her everything. About how you met, how close you’d been and how you’d felt about him at college.

You remember the tears hitting around the point you explained the last couple of years he had faded away.

“I know that he never could never have known how I felt, but-like” you had paused to down another shot, “...he still should have cared about me in some capacity right?”.

“Then delete him, he’s not worth it” she had soothed, rubbing your back.

You probably sounded so desperate but truthfully you felt abandoned.

You swallow down the uncomfortable memory with a sip of water as you continue to justify yourself.

“It’s not even like we really know each other anymore. Maybe HE’S avoiding ME”. You point your chopsticks at her accusingly. 

Aria raises her eyebrow at your words, accompanied by a glare. 

“Stop it! You’ll make the ramen taste bad!” you gasp, shielding your bowl.

She scoffs at your dramatics. “You live next to each other, it’s not like you can avoid him forever”. 

You look up from your bowl, a glint of determination in your eye.

“Challenged accepted”. 

“Stubborn ass”.

“Says the Sagittarius!” you shoot back.

When you get back from lunch, you head straight to see your new manager.

“I’m back Mr Do, are you ready to go over the client files?”. 

“Please don’t call me Mr Do, that’s my father’s name,” he sighs, looking up from his Laptop. “I’m not that much older than you, call me Kyungsoo”.

He grabs a stack of papers and files from his desk and walks around to plonk them onto yours opposite. 

“Are you sure it’s fine for me to invade your office?” you ask, flipping through the first document.

You were surprised to learn that you were sharing the office with the department director. 

The rest of your colleagues were sat open-plan adjacent to the office. 

You snort loudly.

“You can tell your background is auditing” you add, admiring the uniform presentation of each set of financial accounts. 

“Is it that obvious?”

His voice sounds closer than you expect. He’s still leaning against the edge of your desk as he looks over the file in your hand, a slight smirk on his heart-shaped lips. 

It’s not common to come across such a good looking accountant. A far cry from the crusty old white men you’re accustomed to working with.

Well, Jaehyun is handsome but you only see him as a younger colleague.

Kyungsoo, on the other hand. With his deep whiskey brown eyes and short black hair, complimenting to the warm hues of his skin. Is just plain hot.

His shirt sleeves are rolled up past his elbows and you can’t help but take notice of the tone in his forearms that cross over his chest. His voice snaps you out of the slight trance you’ve fallen into. 

“...and yes, it’d make sense to share the same space since we’re going to manage the biggest clients together. Did Mr Kim not explain that this is a promotion,” 

You nod in understanding and he steps back to his desk, looking up once last time with warm assuring smile. “Let’s work hard together”.

Then his attention is back to his laptop, his expression full of concentration.

The rhythmic tapping of his calculator and keyboard filling the room as soft background noise.

You cant help but smile as you look back down towards the files in front of you, a new feeling of determination ignited. 

Working with Kyungsoo for the rest of the day makes you forget about the previous day’s events.

That’s until you step into the lobby of your apartment building and instantly feel anxious at the sight of the elevator. 

You don’t fancy another run in with Baekhyun, so you opt for the stairwell.

You trudge up the stairs until you reach the top floor. Catching your breath as you stand on your tiptoes to peek out of the small glass window that looks out towards your hallway.  

The coast is clear so you make a stealthy dash past Baekhyun’s apartment into your own. 

Aria is right, you this is childish but you don’t want to deal with any awkwardness or confrontation. 

You leave early again the next morning, work late into the evening and take the stairs. Doing the same the next day. And the day after that. 

Most people don’t talk to their neighbours anyway. You’ve lived plenty of places and hardly interacted with the people in your building.

Maybe this was your new normal. 

The weekend is here before you know it. 

You open your eyes groggily. The last thing you remember was reading through some files that you brought home with you yesterday to make notes.

You blame your passing out on the two glasses of chardonnay you had to accompany the reading. 

There’s an ache in your thighs and knees that you attribute to the number of stairs you’ve climbed recently. 

Perhaps this will count towards your yearly cardio. 

You snort at the thought as you rub your eyes. Stretching your arms above your head as you try to loosen the stiffness of sleep from your body. 

Faint jazz music plays in the distance, drifting through the wall you share with Baekhyun's apartment. 

You close your eyes and listen, a soft piano and guitar medley you think?  The double bass thumping along like a gentle heartbeat. 

A feeling of melancholy washes over you causing you to sigh so you force yourself to get up and take a shower. 

Feeling more awake you decide now is the right time to sneak out of your apartment and grab some groceries while it’s still early.

A few hours later than you expected you return to your building, a bag full of groceries clutched in one arm and a couple of extra bags from an impromptu retail binge. 

You couldn't help yourself when you walked past your favourite clothing store Privé and spotted this beautiful pastel blue off-shoulder skater dress.

It literally called out for you to purchase and before you knew it you were also picking up a few new makeup and skincare items to indulge in for the rest of the day. 

‘I don’t splurge often… I work super hard and I deserve this!” you reason with yourself, grimacing as the total of your purchases flash across the cashier screen.

There's always a pang of slight guilt that accompanies any shopping high. The accountant aspect of you scolding your more impulsive side. 

You don’t dwell much on it as you approach the end of the hallway and find yourself contemplating a new dilemma. 

Haul everything up the stairs or risk the elevator. Realistically you’re carrying way too much so the only logical option is taking the elevator. 

It’ll be fine you assure yourself as you step onto the elevator, pushing the button for the top floor. 

Just as the elevator doors are almost closed a hand shoots through the gap and you yelp in surprise.

“Didn’t you hear me calling out to hold the eleva-!” gasps Baekhyun as he shoves his body through the door gap. 

His words cut short as his eyes land on you. 

Your stomach twists into a knot, tightening your grip on the grocery bags as you step to the side to create more space between you.

“I didn’t hear you...s-sorry” you manage to stutter out, trying your best to keep your voice even and eyes straight ahead.

You catch your image in the mirror of the elevator, your hair looking slightly windswept from the outside. 

A sudden conscious sensation of being watched sends a shiver down your spine and you feel your eyes being drawn to the figure reflected next to your own.

Baekhyun is staring, directly at you. His head turned towards you and lips slightly agape.

As if he’s about to say something. 

You internally plead with the elevator to move faster and as though it’s heard your thoughts, you feel the soft judder beneath your feet as it comes to a halt.

When the door spring open, you walk straight for your apartment. Not daring to look behind you.

Your hand trembles as you rapidly punch in your lock code and push open the door, stepping into your apartment and using your foot to kick the door shut behind you.

The door thumps, obstructed by something and you place the items on your counter thinking that your umbrella stand has probably fallen over.

Instead, when you turn around Baekhyun is standing in your doorway. His arm stretching out to hold your front door open.

“Are you avoiding me?”.

You freeze, feeling yourself flinch at his words. Caught off guard by the sudden accusation.

“No why would you-”. 

“Aw come on Y/N! you can’t even look me in the eye right now.” He cuts you off, his tone exasperated. 

“Who are you to suddenly act as if you know me?” You spit back without thinking. 

A tinge of heat rises to your cheeks. Annoyed with yourself for biting back so easily.

Baekhyun's expression softens. 

He lets his arm drop from the door and shoves both hands into the pockets of his jacket. 

“Look. I’m sorry.” 

“Wha-why?” 

“For yelling at you the other day...for the last couple of years?” he winces at his own words. 

“In my defence, you knocked me over” He looks at you like a kicked puppy, “and your hair is much longer now.”

He’s apologising?

“I don’t know what to say” your thoughts spilling directly from your mouth. 

You feel overwhelmed, unable to pint point exactly how you feel. 

Angry. Relieved. Happy?

You hear a half sigh, half laugh from Baekhyun.

“Hi?” He offers.

“Hey...” you reply weakly. 

You both stand there, for what feels like a while.

“Can we start ove-,” you begin, words cutting short as Baekhyun blurts out the same.

You laugh this time.  

“Please.” he adds.  

You note that his hands are now resting at his sides, a sure sign he’s also feeling less on edge. 

You feel ridiculous for even remembering that.

“Good...well. I’m glad” you agree. 

Not knowing what else to say. 

“Yeah, me too,” he continues. “So we’re finally neighbours.”

“Uh-huh” you nod. 

“Awesome” 

You cross your arms over your chest. “So what brought you to move here?” you ask.

“Work, new job!” 

“Congrats”

“Thanks…” He rocks back on his heel. One hand returning to his pocket. “What about you?”

“Huh?... Oh, the same”.

You cringe at the dry turn of the conversation. 

Is it appropriate to ask him to leave?

“So-uh, yeah. I guess I'll be seeing you around?” You opt for something subtle.

He seems to understand, his eyes widening slightly as he quickly steps back from the threshold.

“Ye-yes of course! Catch up soon?” 

You're not sure if he’s asking you or telling you, so you just offer him a weak nod as he closes your door behind him. 

You hold your breath, straining your ears for the sound of his door closing. 

The moment you’re sure Baekhyun is back inside his apartment you jump straight on the phone to Aria. 

Words of confusion spilling from your mouth as you fill her in on what’s happened.

“What does this mean!?” you whisper/shout over the line.

“How am I supposed to know?” she deadpans, always the most sympathetic. “What do you want?”

“What?” 

You flop onto your couch dramatically.  

“Like, do you want to be his friend again. Address your feelings and issues and rebuild a relationship or just keep things in the past and remain as you are?”.

“I...I don’t know. I’ve spent so much time avoiding him I didn’t even consider anything like that”.

You hear her sigh on the other end. “So think about it carefully, you were really upset last time” 

You respond with a groan.“I know”. 

“Do you want me to text Key and we can all meet up, get some drinks and debate this further. You know he’s always opinionated on things like that.”

“Tempting, but I have to work on some client files and think this over for myself...” you pause, suddenly realising something. “Wait, Key knows?”.

“Yah, I’ve been texting him this whole time.”

You press two fingers against your temple, feeling a headache coming. “Thanks mate.”

Kim Kibum, Key as he prefers; is your other best friend.

You met at a night school you’d attended a few years back, after sitting next to each other by chance on the first day. 

You would meet up at the weekends for joint study sessions, usually followed up with a few drinks and sharing mutual complaints about the difficulties and stress of working and studying at the same time. 

You’d introduced him to Aria and the rest was history. 

You usually meet up together once a month, sometimes hanging out with his roommates Minho and Taemin. 

“Tell Key I’ll text him later, rain check on the drinks. Maybe next weekend...uh-huh, ok. Text you later.” 

You end the call, looking up at the ceiling. 

Chest feeling heavy as you try to put your thoughts towards Baekhyun into one place.

Was this a friendship worth salvaging. You were close past tense, but also people grew and changed. 

He wasn’t the only friend you grew apart from so why did it sting so much when you did?

It’s not like you were still in love with him or anything, or that you were waiting for him all this time.

It’s not a romantic comedy. (Even if you do enjoy watching them).

You feel cursed in the relationship department anyway, the last ending terribly with your ex cheating on you with someone you considered to be a friend. 

Remaining single is currently a choice. Aria and Key constantly threaten to drag you to some speed dating event but you refuse. 

The rest of the weekend goes by peacefully, you meet Key for coffee Sunday afternoon for a change of pace from looking over client files and cleaning your bathroom.

“I think...,” you start, taking an extra-long sip of your iced latte “It would be nice to be friends again”.

“We were friends?” Key looks up from his phone, a smirk on his lips. 

You smack his arm playfully. “You know what I mean!”. 

“So you’re not planning any love confessions this time?”.

You grimace, “I was eighteen! It was a crush...now I’m a grown-ass lady who knows she’s going to die alone with seventeen dogs”. 

“Hmmm, well if you don’t want him, I’ll have him” 

You choke on your coffee.

“How do you know he’s not an ugly ass?”

He holds his phone up to you. 

“Because SNS is a wonderful thing darling”. 

You gasp, snatching the phone out of Key’s hand. Baekhyun's profile photo staring back at you.

It looks like he’s on a beach somewhere. 

His hair a light shade of blonde, wearing a tight fit shirt which only emphasises the broadness of his shoulders.

He’s grinning cheekily at whoever is taking the photo and you feel the corners of your lips tugging upwards in response. 

You don’t think it’s the sun that brightens the picture.

A hand suddenly waves in front of your face. “Earth to lover girl!” Key calls out, removing his phone from your hand. 

“Stop stalking Baekhyun.” you huff. 

“Fine fine fine” he deadpans. “but only if you add him yourself”. 

“How do you know we aren’t already friends?”

He looks up at you with a raised brow. Ah yeah he’s already checked. 

You chew on the bottom of your lip nervously as you press send on the friendship request. 

Pangs of guilt emerging over the fact you had even deleted him in the first place 

But you needed to back then, it used to hurt to look at him. 

Monday morning as your leaving your apartment your surprised to see Baekhyun leaving his apartment at the same time. 

He looks you up and down curiously.

“Morning” He smiles, “this is a bit late for you?” his tone slightly teasing.

He’s not wrong, you’re back to leaving your usual time. 

“or maybe you’re early” you respond, mimicking his tone. 

He laughs and shakes his head. “No, I leave this time every day”. 

He falls into step as you head towards the elevator. 

“I started working in a new department last week so I went in early to try and adjust faster.” 

Wait. Why are you justifying yourself to him? 

“So you’re a big fancy accountant now?” he asks, smiling as you wait for him to step onto the elevator before you push the button for the ground floor. 

“And you a fancy architect?” you offer, he laughs and nods in agreement. 

The rest of the elevator ride is in silence, but this time you're not itching to escape. 

Baekhyun hums randomly to himself as he fiddles around on his phone. 

*ping* 

You reach into your pocket searching for your phone at the sound of the notification tone.

‘Byun Baekhyun has accepted your friend request’.

You look up from your phone but he’s not looking. His expression serious as he continues to look down at his phone. 

Does he feel bad that you deleted him?

You step off the elevator and leave the building at the same time.

Keeping a half step ahead as you turn off towards the subway station.

In your peripheral you see that he’s turned in the opposite direction. 

Should you say goodbye, is it weird to wish him a good day? 

You start wondering as you walk further away from each other. 

“Kick some accounting ass!” Baekhyun suddenly calls out, making you spin around in surprise. 

You snort at his word choice.

“Architect the shit out of some buildings!” you call back. 

You’re rewarded with one of his loud melodic laughs and you catch yourself sighing dreamily.

Ah Shit.

[backoftheroomandnotbelonging]

What more can you give? (YUNGBLUD x reader)

A/N: A little something for the Black Hearts Club this Christmas, hope y’all have a good one!

Dom has been working on a new album, to the detriment of his health. You force him to take Christmas off.

You knew Dom was passionate. It was one of the attributes that drew you to him initially; but seeing everything else he cared about fall to the side so that he could finish his latest album was something you knew Dom would want intervention for. Remembering his excitement whenever he makes a breakthrough made you smile. Your smile falls just as quickly when you think about how he’s so easily immersed and sucked into his music. He has tunnel vision; you’d unconditionally support him but even you had to admit it was difficult to, especially so close to the holidays.

The holidays had always been a controversial time for you. Growing up despite always having ‘good’ Christmases, they always feel a little off, a little fake, to you. You dreaded your first Christmas with Dom. It was your second Christmas after leaving home and you’d quite enjoyed that first year of just you alone. Maybe ‘dreaded’ was the wrong word, you cherished every moment with Dom and loved spending secluded winter moments with him but this hyperactive puppy on Christmas Day may be too much for your lack of enthusiasm. You really didn’t want to ruin his holiday, especially right now. No matter what you felt, you wanted to make this Christmas as laid back and ecstatic for him as possible. He needed some time, an excuse, to let loose and be silly and not have to think so much. He needed to lose the furrowed brow.

--------------------

As the season progressed it became more and more evident that drastic measures were going to have to be taken.

The morning after your work Christmas party (an event you had managed to get Dom to spare some time and headspace for) you woke intending to perform your traditional lazy morning in bed routine. You say tradition but for the last two months it had fallen by the wayside but, since you and Dom had purposely scheduled the day to be free, there was no better time to recommence it. You stretched under the pale frosty sunrays that spread across your duvet, humming with satisfaction as a cold chill tingled against your upper arms and elevated the warmth of the rest of your body. The lazy grin stretching upon your face was yearning to be nuzzled between Dom’s shoulder blades but as you wriggled around to find his body, your ankle met the brisk chill of the bedsheet. The duvet had been cast aside and the bed was empty. Now you didn’t feel quite so blissful because sat on the pillow, his pillow, was a pink post-it note reading:

Darlin

Gone to the studio

Luv ya!

You smiled at the sentiment before reminding yourself that this was now a common occurrence. Therefore, you rolled your eyes and flopped back down onto your pillow.

--------------------

A week later and you’d come down with the flu. For the best part of three days you were practically comatose on the couch: wrapped in a duvet, high on paracetamol and binge watching American Horror Story. You had hives blotching your body, moments when your vision would blackout and extreme skin sensitivity, as well as the usual symptoms. Dom had given in to your demands that he not see you until you were over the worst and you suppose, in some sense, he was grateful you were holed up at home because it meant he could burn himself out at the studio without your physical interference. Not that he didn’t care, he maintained constant contact and care for you…just from a distance. He’d given you what you asked for and you were especially thankful as it gave you the perfect opportunity to discuss a family visit with Sam.

--------------------

“Love? You home?”

“Yeah, just in the bedroom.”

“Whatcha doin?”

“Dominic. Baby, you know I love a cuddle but I’m trying to pack…”

“What we packing for? Are you leaving?”

“Oh, stop it, if I was leaving would I pack your boxers? I’ll tell you right now the answer is no. We are packing to spend a couple days with your parents.”

“But I got studio-“

“Uh- no, you don’t. That studio time never got booked. You can be as angry as you want but this is an intervention. You’re taking Christmas off. And it’s your mother’s birthday so…”

“Why? You understand how much this means to me.”

“Does it mean more to you than family? You’ve got to remember that everyone celebrates Christmas. Maybe Yungblud wants to be in the studio but don’t you think Adam, Tom and Michael might want to be home for the holidays?”

“I just…”

“I know, darling. I do. It means everything to you; we all know how dedicated you are and how much the fans mean to you. But take a second: close your eyes, breathe and look inside yourself. Dom, baby, you’re burning out. Please, please, just take a few days out with me.”

“I will, love.”

--------------------

By late Christmas Eve you were back at Dom’s apartment. He’d enjoyed catching up with his parents and messing about with his sisters but had declined the opportunity to stay for actual Christmas Day because he wanted your first Christmas together to be alone and shamelessly romantic, or so his mother told you after the New Year. The entire journey to London was spent with Dom’s USB in the radio and him trying to find the lyrics to match the earworm he’d already recorded.

He then proceeded to spend the night on his laptop with headphones and composition software, only moving to sleep when you hauled him up and claimed that his present would be replaced with coal. He was out like a light. The second that boy sunk into the mattress he was gone. It made you frustrated because it proved that you were right. You loved him dearly, of course, but he was a stubborn bugger – absolute in the belief that he wasn’t too tired and too overworked so could continue his new routine. Idiot. Wouldn’t listen to reason or accept help and now he’s passing out to sleep instead of just sleeping like a log.

--------------------

You were jarred awake to the tones of ‘Last Christmas’ by WHAM. You smiled beneath the blanket covering your face; it was Christmas. The mattress was empty next to you, again, but you knew Dom wasn’t far. And that he wasn’t working. With that reassurance in mind you burrowed deeper into the covers and allowed the gentle beat of the music drift you into a state between awake and sleep.

The floorboards began to groan but you couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes fully. A gentle thud sounded as something was placed on the stack of books by your bed. A kiss was planted on the crown of your head. The floorboards creaked and the door squeaked as it was left ajar.

You prised your eyes open and saw a steaming mug of tea atop your battered copy of ‘the Help’. A warm fuzz filled you as a sleepy smile emerged. Shuffling to sit by your pillow you reach for you tea, cradling it in your hands and resting it against your chest. The smell and warmth bringing immediate comfort to you; the steam felt therapeutic against the dry skin of your face – the English winter wind is brutal. You stayed curled up with your drink for the next half hour. Dom had evidently unearthed the Christmas album from where you’d hidden it and you had to admit the stream of festivity in your ears was making you light up. The children in the flat above yours were scampering about, letting out excited yells and being shushed by their parents; it made you think of how your future Christmases may one day be…

--------------------

Once the dregs of your tea had been drunk, you made a move. Swinging your legs out of bed you hissed at the cold floor and reached for the oversized pink socks you’d smuggled out of the latest Yungblud merch collection. Deciding already that you’d need another layer, you found your favourite cardigan strewn across the foot of the bed. Now amply protected from the elements you ventured out of your bedroom towards the source of the noise.

You’d intended to make Dom aware that you were awake immediately but the serenity of the scene you walked in on made you freeze. Dom was filling the coffee machine, unloading the dishwasher and clearing surfaces for the midday bomb that would be two young adults pretending to adult and cook an entire Christmas lunch. The domesticity and thoughtfulness in his actions warmed your heart. What made you tear up, however, was the sight of his shoulders.

(And not just because his unzipped hoodie was sliding off his shoulder giving you a…view.)

As he bopped around the kitchen, all bent knees and dramatic wrists, the swaying flow of his shoulders was effortless. For months they had gathered tension and rigidity, and now it seemed he no longer held the weight of the entire world there. Dom suddenly began to spin, arms out and laughing. Your stomach swooped causing a bubble of laughter to escape. As ‘Christmas (Baby Come Home)’ played out he stared at you. Up and down. You got shy in the doorway. His boyish grin returned, with the full force of his teeth behind it.

The opening chord of ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’ began and you could tell from the twitch of his lip that your moment of silent reflection was over. He swung the mug from your hand, while twirling you, to place it on the side before bringing you close. For the next couple of minutes, the pair of you jumped and dropped and lively slow danced until you were breathless, sweaty and giggling.

--------------------

Dom collapsed over you: arms flung over your shoulders like dead weight, head resting beside yours and legs each side of one of your own.

“I’ve been in my head. I’m sorry.”

“Dom-“

“No, love. I went too far. Balance is hard for me cus I just wanna throw myself into everything 100% always but I neglected you and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Dom. I understand that about you; not just that, I love that about you.”

“The thing is, you might want to take that apology because it’s all I have to offer you today…”

You chuckled, “What more can you give me? These past few days you’ve given me the trust to make judgements for you. That means everything to me.”

“Well…you’re my favourite. And I’m going to keep you forever.”

[pjstafford]

A Look at my 2020

The end of the year is upon us. It’s been a tough one for all of us. It is a year we will all remember forever. I want to do a positive reflection of this year. I will probably write a blog about what I hope our country’s New Years Resolutions should be. The thoughts on that have been rolling around my head for a few days. But today, December 16, at 4:30 a.m. and unable to sleep, that 2020 familiar dread of what will happen today waking me early, I want to look at some positives. I want to unwrap the positives of 2020 like a Christmas gift before Christmas so that I can wrap myself in them as a blanket of warmth. One thing that I have been truly impressed with is the resilience of the human spirit. Let’s call this a resilience exercise.

Counting my blessings one by one...

1. I am alive. Surviving is a cause for celebration. As far as I know I have been COVID free...although there were a few days in April or early May when I was sick with something and in Feb I had the strangest cold in my life and this time last year weeks of fatigue ended in frozen shoulder syndrome on Christmas Eve. See, I want to be thankful, but I don’t want to be naive in my retrospection. Best to be honest. I’m not sure if I had COVID or not, but if I did I survived with relatively minor symptoms. Every cough or sniffle I feared in a completely irrational way was COVID. There was the week I walked around sniffing everything to make sure I could still smell. It dawns on me it is going to be difficult to write a honest and, yet, positive, retrospective of 2020. I am alive, but I have never been less healthy. I’ve gained weight. I haven’t had the physical exercise to which I am accustomed and now when I try to take a long walk I realize my stamina is gone. It will take years of concentrated effort once things are “back to normal” for me to become normal again. It wasn’t that I didn’t try. I did yoga daily in the Spring and switched to an online Tai chi class in the summer, but I don’t live near beauty or anything interesting so wasn’t motivated to walk and just my everyday life of lockdown in a studio apartment meant less movement. All of which sounds even to me like not very good justification. Did I mention though that I survived. I am alive. I will take that as blessing number one.

2. No one I care about very deeply has died or even been seriously ill from COVID. Doesn’t March 2020 seem far away? I don’t want to be dismissive of 300;000 dead especially with more to come. I or someone I love could still be gone by New Years Day. But in March and April we held our breaths for an apocalypse and at some point most of us decided to take a breath. I don’t know really if it’s good or bad that we have simply adjusted our normal and the number deaths we are willing to accept. It’s bad, what am I saying? It’s bad. But how long can we wait in fear? So I don’t know, but I want to count as a blessing that those I love have all survived to date. I cannot vanquish the fear, but I can be grateful for survival.

3. I have maintained employment in a bad economy and have mostly been able to work from home. There have been some struggles. Sometimes the work I do is depressing. Sometimes I feel I don’t make a difference. There has never been a worse time to be an advocate...or a person with disability, or a caregiver, or a provider agency, or a health care professional. I have maintained employment.

4. I count among my blessings the fact that I had a wonderful 2020 before....remember there was a 2020 before. I love when my work takes me to Santa Fe for a prolonged time. A friend came out in Feb for a wonderful weekend. Another friend came to Albuquerque to see me for my birthday in early March. I remember thinking how social I was in those first ten weeks in 2020. It’s as if I somehow knew....it sustained me.

5. I count among my blessings that when I felt my mental health despair getting at its worse...the strain of living alone in a studio apartment, working from that same apartment and following the Governor orders not to go or do anything. ..that I had friends and two weekends of “risky” behavior; a friend who came for the Fourth of July holiday and an out of state trip to Durango in late September. I’m fortunate that when I had to have human contact my closest friends were there for me

6. I count as my blessings that Biden won the election. It’s not simply a matter of politics. I’m not sure if the last eight months of the Trump Presidency wasn’t worse for my morale than the pandemic because Trump kind of lost whatever semblance of sanity he had. Part of the trepeditation over what each new day will bring is what Trump will say, do, tweet, exacerbate. I still fear revolution in the street before Jan 20. The pandemic is not the worse of what America has gone through. That’s the oddest thing about this year.

7. Here is the blessing which probably will be unpopular. The lockdown and stress of all we have experienced is tough, but the slowdown is a blessing for me. My life had gotten pretty busy. While I miss travel, it’s ok for a year not to have had the time suck that travel for work entails. I will be so happy the first work trip I get to go on, but I feel like 2020 has given me the gift of time. It’s odd because, like many, my creative sense has suffered. I have written almost nothing. Still, I often think of a Dylan lyric, maybe in the next life I will be able to hear myself think. I could hear myself think this year. Unfortunately I thought about the existentialist angst of the meaning of life and my failures as a human being and I don’t think there is enough time still to process the effects of the pandemic and I’m sick to death of the sound of my thoughts, but....I have been given this unique gift of time. Even on December 16th I am not rushed to shop, to cook, to decorate, to go to a zillion parties. It’s a different year. The Holiday will still come. It is pleasant not to feel urgency over, let’s face it, non-urgent things. I am mentally and emotionally fatigued, but not nearly as physically exhausted as I was this time last year

8. The next one is a big one. The gift of living in the moment. I have spent my entire life since 7th grade when Miss O’Neil gave me a copy of The Rubyait of Omar Khayyam trying to live with the philosophy of living for the now. Clear the cups of past regrets...tomorrow, why I may be myself with yesterday’s seven thousand years. The only time I have ever truly experience this is in a handful of concert experience. Even now, I fear for my future and I blame myself for my mistakes. Still, my relationship with time has changed. There is the sun rising and setting and that is a day. Seasons will change. But the gift of time means I can approach my day differently. When five o clock comes on a workday, a needed nap is a step away. No where to go on a Friday night... no where I can go...means the weekend rhythm exists only as I define it. The simple pleasures we always take for granted mean something more now. There is a coffee truck that stops near me on Fridays and Saturdays. When it first started stopping I was over the moon that I could walk and get a latte with fairly little risk. If I go to the grocery store and have a conversation with a stranger, it is different than it was before. Mindfulness exercise and meditation is one thing, but nothing can compare with this year to further my lessons in this pursuit. May I take the lesson with me into years to come.

9. Zoom...yes, of course I have zoom fatigue. But five friends in five different states having a monthly drink together on zoom is a benefit of the pandemic. I watched a movie this year with someone who lives in Brazil. I celebrated a friend’s sixtieth person even though I couldn’t be with her. I’ve attended book discussions and readings in New York and I already have tickets to an event in March. Kind of love New York. I’ve never been there in person. Just a lot happens there. Educationally and socially the world is now open to me. I am not limited to what is going on in my community. I hope this doesn’t completely go away.

10. Finally, storytelling and music. I found it hard to read new things in the lockdown for a while, but in March friends asked me to a virtual book club of three books I already read and we reread them together which took us into the summer. I rediscovered the Foundation series of Asimov and suddenly I could read again! My favorite book I’ve read published in 2020 is Jess Walter’s The Cold Million. I did read a digital advance copy of David Duchovny’snew book due out in 2021 and it is, in fact, the breakout novel I knew this hot young writer would eventually write. Looking forward to 2021 book club! I finally binged Breaking Bad and The Travelers as well as The Queens gambit and watched Peanut Butter Falcon. I am doing a disability focused watch on the X Files and I better kick it it the rear because I’m presenting on it in Feb. at a conference. My God, Dylan put out his first original music in eight years. It will take me eight years to fully ingest it and enjoy it. You see, no matter what happens, humanity will tell its stories and gather to make its songs. It’s that human resilience. Creation of art is not trivial. It’s vital. It has continued in this odd and strange year. It is humanity’s greatest gift and I have definitely used it this year as a resilience and growth tool.

Those are my top blessings in this horrific and, yet, wondrous year. However, you have been impacted, what we all share in common is that In a very short time it will be a memory of a year in the past.

[whimsandvanillalattes]

"You?" (Part 2)

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong (G Dragon) x Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Romance, a dash of fluff

Soulmate AU Prompt: Soulmates have identical counters that count the number of times they have passed their soulmate.

Part: 2/?

Part 1 | Part 3

Alternatively titled: Y/N and GD think too much.

A/N: Thank you everyone who read the first part and everyone who liked/left comments/reblogged. It means the world to me. Also, I’m so so sorry for not updating sooner. As an apology, accept this really long part! Another thing I want to add is that I’m more used to writing OC stories rather than reader centered ones. I really tried to make Y/N gender neutral but for some reason I couldn’t make that work. I’m really sorry about that too. Please bear with a Fem!Y/N here. For my next story, I’ll definitely make a gender neutral Y/N.

-

You swore under your breath as you veered around an elderly couple. You had overslept and if you didn’t reach the train station in another minute, you were going to be late for class. You lived at the university dorms so you had never really been late before. But you and one of your best friends had had a sleepover at your other best friend’s house and last night had been spent binge watching Lee Jong Suk’s dramas (in honor of his enlistment, and because you just loved him). Unlike you, they didn’t have morning classes so now they were sleeping soundly at home while you were just hoping you reached class before your professor.

Luck was not in your favor though, because you encountered one of the largest crowds you had ever seen (and you had seen a lot, considering how much of your free time you spent going to music shows and fan meets) at a little distance from the station. You saw some people taking pictures and, while you were offended on behalf of their center-of-attention whose privacy was being invaded, a part of you was tempted to stop and see which idol or actor was causing this commotion—you were sure it was either of the two because that was the only logical explanation. But your professor’s angry face appeared before your eyes, and you seriously wanted to not fail, so you pushed through the crowd and got to the station.

About ten minutes into your journey, your phone began to vibrate. Intensely. You pulled it out of your pocket and saw a ton of notifications. Most were from twitter, accompanied by a single one from a tabloid. You clicked on that, figuring it would make more sense than the frenzy of tweets. The headline read:

BIGBANG’S G-DRAGON spotted enjoying his military leave with his sister.

The article went on to say that he had “attracted a lot of attention.” So GD was on a leave? And so-called fans and paparazzi—or should you say Dispatch—wouldn’t even let him relax on his break. Now, you wouldn’t call yourself a VIP, but you had been listening to K-pop since you learnt the language and regarded BIGBANG as one of K-pop’s legendary groups. You could sing along to most of their songs and many of their solos (maybe you should call yourself a VIP). Which made you not exactly happy about how GD was being treated.

The tabloid article also had pictures. Dispatch is fast, you thought. He was wearing a black mask and a cap, so his face was barely visible. It was surprising how anyone had managed to recognize him. But then again, you had recognized him in the photos immediately so it wouldn’t have been hard for longtime VIPs to do the same. Taking a closer look at the photos, you noticed something strange. His surroundings looked familiar. Two years of living in Seoul had made you quite well-acquainted with the city and with a start, you recognized his location. The crowd you had just encountered had been caused by him.

The fangirl inside you freaked out. You had walked right past THE G-Dragon. A part of you cursed yourself for wanted to be a good student and not stopping, while another part tried to convince you to get off the train at the next station and run back. The more rational part of you, however, curbed all these stupid ideas. Enough people had swarmed him already without you joining them. Besides, you had a class to get to.

Scrolling through the comments, you were in the midst of adding one of your own to rebuke Dispatch for invading his privacy and making him uncomfortable when something on your wrist caught your eye and you almost dropped the phone. Setting it down on your lap, you turned your wrist over.

And gasped.

The 0 you were accustomed to seeing on the inside of your right wrist was not there. In its place was a cursive 1.

-

You ended up skipping the first class, not because you didn’t reach the university on time, but because you spent about half an hour in the toilet bawling your eyes out. You had finally passed the boy you had wanted to meet your entire life. Only, you had simply passed him, without even realizing it. What were the odds of meeting the guy you passed only once in your two years in Seoul, especially when you had passed each other at or around a busy train station? You weren’t one to be pessimistic usually, but it was frustrating how you moved to an entirely different country for your soulmate, but you hadn’t even been able to find out what said soulmate looked like.

Your bad (awful) day didn’t end after that. Sleep deprivation combined with narrowly missing your soulmate lead to a terrible mood and a terrible headache, you learnt, and you were not able to concentrate in any of your classes. So, several consecutive classes later, you had a clear plan in your head. You were going to crash onto your bed in the dorm and catch up on at least a bit of the sleep you had forsaken for Lee Jong Suk. You would worry about your soulmate when you were thinking straight.

Naturally, you forgot to set your alarm.

For the second time that day, you overslept. This time you were running late for work. Unlike class, you had been late for work several times and knew that your manager would absolutely kill you if you were late again. So, you got dressed in a frenzy, almost left all the lights switched on, and, for the second time that day, you ran for your life.

You reached the coffee shop you worked at ten minutes after your shift started and thankfully your manager thought a warning glare was enough punishment. You hurried to the employees’ room at the back of the shop and changed into your uniform. A quick peek in the mirror informed you that you looked like a mess. Your dark circles had somehow intensified and your hair resembled a bird’s nest, courtesy of the fact that you hadn’t bothered to brush it. It was frustrating how this was what you looked like the day your soulmate showed up (though you were sure he hadn’t noticed you either). You pulled it back into a ponytail in a measly attempt to tame it. While it was not the most effective, at least now you looked less like a homeless sleep deprived person and would gladly face your soulmate if he showed up at the coffee shop. Which was next to impossible, because he had never come here in the two years you had been working here.

The smell of coffee began to put your mind at ease once you settled down at the counter. As you prepared two teenage girls’ orders—a strawberry shake and an iced americano (totally contrasting drinks, you mentally noted)—you fell into a sort of routine, unlike the events of the morning. That put you in a comparatively comfortable state of mind and your thoughts finally began to align themselves. Usually, you kept a novel or a textbook with you during your shift but having very conveniently forgotten to bring anything with you afforded you the opportunity to think of your soulmate—who hadn’t really left your mind all day anyway. Maybe he took the morning train from that station everyday and you hadn’t ever crossed him before because that was not your usual route? You often stayed at your friend’s house, so you had taken trains from that station many times though. Had the timing always been wrong? Or had your soulmate recently moved to Seoul? Was he from another city? Busan? Daejeon? Pyongyang, North Korea?

A loud grumbling sound broke your train of thoughts. With a start, you realized it had ensued from your stomach. The only thing you had consumed the entire day was a cup of coffee and some cookies you had found in your bag. You were starving. A particular red velvet cupcake, with cream cheese frosting, had caught your eye and was enticing you to have it. The only customer in the shop was seated at a table by the window, typing away at his laptop. He had been like that for about an hour, his now cold coffee abandoned on the table. You could afford a snack break, then. There was at least one perk of working at a place that had food. You retrieved cupcake and quickly punched yourself a receipt which included the 20% employees’ discount, adding the due amount to the cash register. You settled down on a stool and indulged in a bite of the heavenly cupcake (that you enjoyed more than you normally would because of the lack of food in your system).

The bell above the door rang, and you tried to swallow it down so that you could greet the new customer. You glanced towards the door and nearly choked on said cupcake. Walking towards the counter, wearing a black hoodie and the same cap he was wearing in the picture you had seen earlier but having somehow lost the mask, was Kwon Jiyong. Aka GD. Aka G-Dragon.

What? How? What is he doing here? Is it really him? But-

Incoherent half-thoughts ran through your mind, but the gist was wondering why he was here of all places. Was it because this particular coffee shop was not in a mainstream area? Or had he suddenly craved coffee and had been tempted by the fact that there was only one other customer?

You were able to regain some of your composure and uh, not choke by the time he got to you. Your manager’s hawk eyes were on you and you could not afford to appear unprofessional, no matter how much you wanted to squeal and ask this man for an autograph. He probably noticed that you knew who he was though because a wide smile appeared on his face and you nearly melted in a puddle (Be professional, Y/N! you scolded yourself internally.) Either that, or he had found your almost-choking antic amusing. Possibly both.

“Good evening, sir!” At least your voice hadn’t betrayed you.

“Hello,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Your Korean pronunciation is pretty good.”

“Oh, thank you.” A blush threatened to appear on your face. “I’ve been living in Seoul for a while.” And I’ve been learning Korean for more than a decade, you decided to not add.

He ordered an iced Americano and you began to prepare it for him. Unlike with most customers, you felt extra nervous, mainly because you could feel his eyes following you. You were just hoping not to mess up.

“You know,” he began, “I thought you would ask me for an autograph. I know you recognized me.”

Whoops, busted!

You smiled. “I want to, but my manager would kill me if I do, so I can’t.” Conversing with him had seemed like a hurdle two seconds ago but now that he had initiated conversation, it was just…natural. As if talking to Kwon Jiyong was the most normal thing in the world and something you had been doing your entire life.

He chuckled. “You’re that scared of him?”

“I can’t afford to lose this job,” you said, shrugging as you handed him his drink. You had never seen him in person before, and you were a pretty big fan of his, but after your initial shock, you couldn’t help but wonder at how comfortable you felt talking to him. It was strange because you were the kind of person who could never be completely relaxed talking to an ordinary person for the first time, much less talking to an idol.

“I guess I can give it to you the next time I come here, then.”

Now that was something that made you almost freak out. “You’re going to come here again?” you asked. It was hard to mask the excitement on your face, and he seemed to find that very amusing. At least, that was what you inferred from the wide gummy smile that adorned his face, and you couldn’t help thinking of how cute it looked.

He took a sip from his drink. “Well, the coffee’s good,” he grinned, “So yeah, I am.” His phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen.

“I need to go now.” He stepped back from the counter. “See you next time.”

“Bye!” you called out. He waved at you over his shoulder as he opened the door and for some reason you were waving back, not caring that your manager was rolling his eyes at you.

*

“Oh, sit down already!” your roommate and one of your best friends, Soo-jin, whined. You rolled your eyes as you plopped down on your bed next to Min-ji, your other best friend.

“Okay, now spill,” Min-ji ordered. You had briefly told them what happened the entire day and they had deemed it too important to discuss in the morning, so the three of you were now gathered at your dorm room. Min-ji was the friend whose house you had had a sleepover at the previous night. She had decided to stay at your and Soo-jin’s room that night so you could talk peacefully.

“What do I start with, GD or soulmate?”

“GD!” they cried in unison. Both of them had been BIGBANG fans since they were kids. You told them how you had seen a crowd in the morning which had turned out to be because of him, and then how he had showed up at your workplace. When you finished, they just stared at you for a second.

“Woah,” Min-ji breathed out finally. “You’re so damn lucky.”

“But he is so sweet!” Soo-jin exclaimed. The fangirling was starting now. “He even asked if you wanted an autograph.”

“I know right. And telling her that he’d come again!” Min-ji was almost squealing now. She looked at you. “How did you even survive it?”

“I almost didn’t. I’m just glad I didn’t totally freak out and left a, you know, terrible impression.” You shrugged. Now that you thought of it, it was odd that he had talked to you at all. Hadn’t he been ambushed by enough fans already for one day? He knew you knew who he was, so why talk to you any more than necessary? In any case, the three of you discussed (err, fangirled over) him a little longer before Min-ji remembered you had another important matter to discuss.

“What about your soulmate, though?” she asked. “When did you pass him?” Both of your friends had already found their soulmates. Min-ji’s happened to be her neighbor so they had known each other almost their entire lives. Soo-jin’s soulmate was one of your seniors and they had met a little after she started university.

“My counter changed to one in the morning.” You leaned back into a pillow. “I noticed when I was on the train. We probably crossed on the station, or when I was rushing to it.” You sighed. If only you had been paying more attention to your surroundings, you would have met yours too.

“Hey, what if your soulmate’s one of those Dispatch photographers?” Soo-jin exclaimed. You snorted.

“Dispatch? Seriously?” You rolled your eyes at her. You could always count on your friends to find all sorts of weird ways to cheer you up.

“That’s totally possible, though,” Min-ji added, playing along. “Didn’t you say he’s older than you?”

“You’ll have to start stalking Dispatch’s professional stalkers!”

“That might actually end up being a good thing.” You laughed. “I’d know all the latest gossip.”

Min-ji nudged you with her foot. “Show us your counter.” You thrust your wrist towards them. They promptly gasped, as you had expected them to. Your friends tended to be quite dramatic too.

“I know,” you began, “it is surprising. I was so shock—”

“Y/N,” Min-ji interrupted, “when did you last check your counter.”

“When I was leaving for work, I think. Why?”

“Well, it’s not Dispatch, for sure,” Soo-jin whistled.

“What?”

“Look at it again.”

You did, and you gasped too. Your wrist didn’t say 1 anymore. Now it read 2.

-

To say that Jiyong was confused would be an understatement. He was far beyond confusion. He was conflicted in the worst possible way. His entire day had been…chaotic. It hadn’t entirely been bad—he had experienced intense excitement and adoration at one point—but it had not been an ideal way to spend his break. Even trying to make sense of everything that had happened made his head throb.

When he had managed to disengage himself from the swarm of paparazzi at the station, he noticed that the counter that had read 0 for the past 20 years suddenly read 1. He had always imagined he would be overjoyed at this occasion. Strangely, he hadn’t been anywhere near overjoyed. He had become too used to living as if he had no soulmate. The discovery that not only did he have one, but that his soulmate was very close was a change he hadn’t seen coming, and it was not entirely welcome. And, he had to admit, he was also frustrated because he had only passed his soulmate, rather than actually meeting.

He had decided he needed coffee to clear his head and had taken great pains to find a place where he could get it without attracting public notice (again). At least, he had thought that was his consideration. But, in hindsight, it could have been the soulmate pull. They did say it worked in strange ways. How else could he, out of all the coffee shops in Seoul, have ended up at the one his soulmate worked at? Crossing her once in a day could be a coincidence but meeting her again in the span of some hours could most certainly not be one. In any case, he had winded up at her workplace. There, he had encountered a cute, albeit quite young, foreign part-timer who knew him, he had realized immediately. After the rough morning, he should have bolted but something had compelled him to stay. And he had discovered that the part-timer was fun to talk to.

He hadn’t realized she was his soulmate until he got back to his car and his manager pointed out that his counter had changed again. That was when things had begun to click in his head and the reason talking to her was fun started to become clear. He had been tempted to run back inside and tell her this new turn of events. But that had been accompanied with thoughts of rejection that held him back, and he had felt suffocated beneath a variety of emotions. Instead, he had told his manager to drive on.

That was why he was currently lying on his living room couch, a steaming bowl of ramen he suddenly did not want to eat abandoned on the mahogany table in front of him and all the lights expect the one in the hallway switched off. The atmosphere was gloomy, but he liked it better that way; it was a perfect representation of his inner turmoil. Her eyes, wide with excitement and surprise as they had been when he had mentioned coming again, seemed to be permanently etched in his brain. Now that he had uncovered her identity, the pull felt even stronger. His entire being was craving her. And she had moved to Seoul, so that would mean she was looking for her soulmate too. Had she put two and two together yet and realized she was actually looking for him?

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake off the doubts. He had gotten his counter when he was ten, so that would mean she had to be twenty. He had always known about the age gap, so it didn’t really bother him. It wasn’t like she was a minor or anything. But was she okay with it? All her knowledge about her soulmate came from whatever he had first said after she was born. He didn’t even remember what he had said. He just hoped it wasn’t something stupid. In any case, the most she could have inferred from that would be that he was a Korean man a few years older than her. There was a big difference in being a few years older and around ten years older. And did she even want him as her soulmate? His life hadn’t really been a pure, sinless, scandal-free one. She probably knew about that.

And most importantly, he didn’t like the pull. His mind was sort of sick of the effect the bond was having on him. It wasn’t her fault, but it made him want to avoid her at all costs.

What was he to do now? Go to her the next day? Or pretend his counter still said 0? Coming to a conclusion was not easy. He told himself to wait until his enlistment was over and then approach her. If she wanted to find him, she wouldn’t leave before she did. But even when eventually he drifted into a light, troubled slumber, he had not managed to convince himself.

[ganbarimaster]

The Campaign of Liu Ji Part 3 (Final!)

A continuation from this post, and the conclusion to this most recent play-through of Romance of the Three Kingdoms 14. When it came to beginning the inevitable battle with Cao Cao, I was a little hesitant at first. It seemed like it was going to take a while and I wasn’t sure how interesting it would be to play. But I soldiered on. It was a bit of a stalemate for a while, with neither of us gaining or losing any ground, but the computer had a tendency to over-extend itself and leave places vulnerable. And I already had more cities and troops, so it was really only a matter of time. I spent one entire evening just shuffling around officers and moving troops and resources from place-to-place. If I hadn’t been writing out this loose narrative for my campaign, I doubt I’d have been motivated to finish it. I’ll be interested to see how this game changes when the power up kit is eventually released, as at the moment its a little bare-bones, and most turns are spent rewarding officers to maintain their loyalty and accepting mundane suggestions from advisors which increase agriculture or whatever in a town by ten points. I feel like the narrative I wrote out for this campaign would have been much more interesting to read if I had been more strict with myself about roleplaying the position whilst playing, in terms of (for example) who I could or couldn’t hire, of sometimes losing territory to my enemies when it made sense, and so on. But as it stands, I don’t think this game has enough tools to keep things interesting and varied. Nevertheless, Cao Cao has been backed into a corner and the conflict approaches its end. The fate of the famous three sworn brothers revealed. If you want to know more about the destiny of one Liu Ji, styled Jingyu, read on!

Cao Cao, along with his advisors Guo Jia and Xun Yu, had developed an idea early on of separating the three brothers Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei—in order to prevent them from causing any trouble. Liu Bei would be based in Xuchang with the Emperor, Zhang Fei was to hold the frontlines against Ma Teng in the northwest, and Guan Yu had been involved in conflict in the northeast against Gongsun Zan. Liu Bei desired greatly to travel south to join the forces of Liu Ji, but he was effectively a prisoner, and did not want to be parted from his brothers. If Guan Yu or Zhang Fei shirked their duties in the north, it would have been very costly for Liu Bei and his family. In the years after the conflict with those forces came to an end, Cao Cao turned his attention southward to Liu Ji—with the three brothers still separated across the realm.

To prevent Liu Ji from gaining access to Chang’an, Cao Cao turned his forces toward Liu Ji’s position at Hangzhong, whilst simultaneously advancing on Liu Ji’s bases in Xinye, Shouchun, and in Jianye. It was easily the largest conflict in recent history. Liu Ji was unable to maintain control of Hanzhong, which was a key base for moving on Chang’an. Once the area had been subdued by Cao Cao’s forces, Zhang Fei was placed in charge of the unit now stationed at Hanzhong—presumably to intimidate Liu Ji and prevent him from advancing. But when Cao Cao’s forces came to join Zhang Fei for a full-scale invasion of the riverlands, Zhang Fei refused to open the doors to the city they had occupied. Not long after, he was somehow joined by his sworn brother Liu Bei, who had escaped captivity in Xuchang during the ongoing conflicts with Liu Ji and had snuck his way over to Hanzhong with the help of some supporters in Cao Cao’s territory. As Cao Cao directed his forces to advance upon Zhang Fei at Hanzhong, Liu Ji sent his own generals to support that same position. It transpired that Fa Zheng had also been in contact with Zhang Fei over the past few months—which had made this surprising turn of events possible. Guan Yu was yet to be seen, but the conflict between Cao Cao and Liu Ji had begun in earnest.

Taishi Ci, Ling Tong, Huang Zhong, Wei Yan and Ma Chao were his most capable generals, and had become the pillar of his military force—his five Tiger Generals. Zhuge Liang was promoted to Prime Minister, and Lu Xun became the Director General. He was not lacking for intelligent advisors, but they did not often agree. Even so, Liu Ji enjoyed weighing the value of the various suggestions presented to him, and actively encouraged lively and good-spirited debate within his halls. Spiteful, personal attacks and underhanded comments were not tolerated. This contributed towards a sense of camaraderie among the intelligent officers of his force, and ensured they were motivated and focused on the task at hand, working hard to develop their ideas and consider alternatives which might be suggested by their interlocutors.

Recognizing the value of maintaining a hold on Hanzhong, and furious at the betrayal of Zhang Fei and Liu Bei, Cao Cao dedicated himself to securing the area once more. He sent their sworn brother, Guan Yu—who had become so indebted to Cao Cao through his service over the years, and who had been poisoned with lies about the behavior of his sworn brothers. Zhang Fei met Guan Yu on the field, enraged that Guan Yu hadn’t already come to join his brothers, and was yet a peon under Cao Cao. The two clashed in an intense duel, rending heaven and earth. 

Pushing one another to their limits in a battle which had both armies enraptured, more than two-hundred bouts had been concluded. Liu Bei yelled at both brothers to lower their arms and remember their oath. He got between the two in the midst of their duel without a weapon of his own, which took them by surprise. Liu Bei was accidentally struck in the head and bled from his ears. He died soon after. In their distress, both Zhang Fei and Guan Yu took their own lives. Soldiers on both sides attempted to prevent them from doing so, but to no avail. In the chaos that followed, Cao Cao regained control of Hanzhong for a short time. But being spread thin, and fearing Xuchang would fall, was unable to hold it for long.

Across the realm, Cao Cao’s bases had begun to fall to Liu Ji—Cao Mai’s navy was overrun off the shore of Guangling by He Qi and Lu Dai, enabling Liu Ji to build upon his forces on the northern shores of the Changjiang. Sensing that Cao Cao had acted too late to mount a meaningful opposition against Liu Ji, Zhang He turned on Cao Cao’s force at Wan Castle, joining with Liu Ji and providing them access to the castle. Xuchang was now within reach, and efforts were being made by Cao Cao to relocate the capital, and thereby the Emperor, north of the Huanghe to Ye, the Capital of Ji Province.

Xu Province had already been captured by Liu Ji, and the escape route to Ji Province had been cut off. Xuchang swiftly fell. Cao Cao barely escaped with his life, but he was unable to bring the Emperor with him. The carriage of the Emperor was surrounded by Huang Zhong and Wei Yan before it could reach the river. Liu Ji himself led a force through Hu Lao Gate to capture Luo Yang, with Taishi Ci, Ling Cao, and Lu Dai—some of his longest serving generals. Luo Yang was re-established as the capital city and the Emperor was encouraged to resume his role, but he vehemently opposed the idea, exhausted by playing his role as puppet Emperor. He threatened to kill himself if Liu Ji did not assume the throne and continue the Han Dynasty as an imperial ancestor. Hesitant at first, it was only at the insistence of his advisors that Liu Ji capitulated and accepted. He was named Emperor Da of Yang.

Cao Cao had become very ill, often bedridden by severe migraines. Sima Yi took care of most of his duties, which largely involved re-structuring and re-organizing their forces north of the Huanghe. Of his most capable generals, only Xu Huang and Xiahou Yuan were with him in Ye, but both were now over fifty years of age. Xiahou Dun was stationed in Liang Province, cut off from the rest of Cao Cao’s force.

A small force led by Ma Chao slowly encroached upon Xiahou Dun in Liang Province. Although he fought fiercely, being cut off from Cao Cao’s main force, supplies were lacking. The sparse fields of Liang were not enough to support a standing army, and morale was low. It is said that Xiahou Dun fought until his last breath. Ma Chao was elated to be able to recapture the lands rightfully belonging to his family.

This was now a time for Emperor Da and his forces to rest and recuperate, and focus on domestic affairs. A great deal of discussion centred on moving the capital again to somewhere in the south, but such discussions were tabled until a time when the realm had been completely unified. Liu Ji, now almost 40, had a daughter, but had yet fathered no sons—and this was another active point of discussion.

Many messages were sent to Cao Cao to entreat him to surrender his forces, but he adamantly refused. After a few years, the Emperor commanded that an enormous force cross the Huanghe and capture You, Ji, and Bing. But before the conflict could begin, Cao Cao suddenly passed away in the spring of 221AD. Sima Yi was the architect of the discussions which followed, pledging fealty to the new Han Emperor and surrendering their forces. Gongsun Gong eventually followed suit, and the realm was completely unified by 223AD.

Some years of peace and prosperity followed, but unrest remained surrounding the Imperial lineage. Sima Yi worked diligently at involving his family in Imperial affairs, ingratiating himself to the Emperor—he petitioned to have one of his sons marry the Emperor’s daughter and become Prince. The remaining members of the Sun family sought recognition for having supported the Emperor since His earliest days, and demanded the Emperor’s daughter marry one of their number. Any talk of moving the capital to the southlands was seen as tacit support for the Sun family, and so the conversation stagnated. As tensions flared, and years passed, the princess became aware of her own significance and the power it afforded her. She would sometimes leverage her own life in order to secure her own autonomy. It was announced that she would marry in her own time, on her own terms, as she intended to become the first Empress. Legislation was written to support her claim.

When Emperor Da passed away almost thirty years later, she ascended to the throne. But in the years which followed, internal conflict escalated and the land began to fracture once more, many refusing to accept this new state of affairs, and some making their own claims to the Imperial throne. A new age of conflict had begun.

[an-avid-reader]

Opal (Lux #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout

my rating: 3.5/5 stars

After losing her father, Katy and her mom move across the country to West Virginia. With her luck, Katy's new neighbour is pleasing to the eyes...maybe even abnormally so. But that's not all, this town has it's secrets--maybe that's just how small towns are. Little does Katy know that her new neighbours Daemon and Dee are more than they appear to be. As Katy is swept into Daemon and Dee’s lives, she quickly learns that they are aliens; as she spends more time with them, Katy has an aura which makes her a target to other aliens. Paradoxically, Katy must be protected by the twins while also losing the aura before she gets killed.

Note: this review is written after rereading the book

Link to Goodreads // book 1 / 2 // Spoilers in review!

Alright, where do we start--the I-told-you-sos or the this-needs-to-happen-but-morals-are-a-things ? Man, oh man, this book is literally chasing one goal: to get Bethany (and Chris *sigh*) out of the warehouse, but the obstacles and challenges?? What a ride.

I wanted to start off by talking about Armentrout’s writing and how I appreciate how it’s changed from book 1 onto this book (and undoubtedly changes with each book she publishes (or doesn’t)). I felt like while there wasn’t as much “action” happening in this part of the series, we got to delve into the characters’ relationship with on another--notably Dee and Katy’s relationship and how we can still build bridges after a fire *wipes single tear*. We obviously get to see Katy and Daemon’s relationship grow - which (assuming you’ve already read the book) damn some of those scenes are graphic ! But at the same time, it didn’t feel like it was overdone, if that makes sense. In terms of the plot, or the timeline rather, everything felt like it was happening naturally; we don’t just skip from one part to another without an explanation. Everything seemed to be meticulously planned out--some events having much more foreshadowing than others--and we never lost sight of the main goal of the book. I feel like sometimes we get sidetracked into smaller adventures, but in this case, everything that happened was done with the intention of rescuing Bethany and Chris, so it just reinforced the fact that the Luxen really care about them.

Alright, now onto other aspects of the novel--I will admit, when I started reading this book, I don’t actually remember what happened in book 3+4 of this series. It’s odd because I didn’t feel like this book was just filler (though it did feel more like a “bridge book” than Onyx. Nevertheless, we pick up on where we ended in book 2 (I’m telling you--you’ve got to binge these books!). We get to connect with Dawson and Katy-I found that their exchanges seemed natural, I’m not surprised that Dawson didn’t really feel like talking with his siblings. Katy was just there for him, she was willing to listen, and she didn’t push him into an interrogation session. She was just someone from the outside who he could talk to without feeling judged--that’s the type of person we all need in our lives to be honest. 

I honestly felt a bit bad for Katy, or rather for her mom, because it was just...wrong...to keep her mom in the dark about the Luxen, but more importantly, about Will. Not to mention, it’s a huge risk as Katy’s mom would become a liability. I also think that Katy’s mom wouldn’t believe her--I imagine she’d say something like “oh Will isn’t trying to replace your dad” blah blah. But now Will isn’t a problem anymore...while these are fictional characters, we need to consider the morals of the situation. Of course Will was a piece of garbage (just like another character we all know…) so I guess his death was kind of his own doing, but then again a life is a life. Murder isn’t right, and it shouldn’t be justified unless it’s for self-defense, but even then things are a little hazy. I think what we can take away from this book is that it’s a good sign that Katy and Daemon understand the consequences of their actions, and they regularly check-in with one another to ensure that they don’t follow the same dark path that Will and Blake did.

So that’s about it for the morals, I guess, but, for the I-told-you-sos...well there’s Blake and the attitude/confidence that everyone had. I’ll start with the latter: I think the most obvious foreshadowing was that “everything will go fine” pep talk that the characters had with each other for BOTH times they were going to the warehouse. Sure we might not have known what nor the magnitude of what was going to happen, but the who or why was pretty obvious: Blake. I felt like these pep talks--while it’s key to have a positive mindset when you do something that’s scary, I felt like it also hindered their (Katy, Daemon, Dawson, etc.) ability to plan just in case something went wrong. And how do we know Blake would have his hand in this situation? Because it’s Blake. After the first betrayal from book 2, anything that comes out of that man’s mouth can be taken with a bucket-load of salt. Not to mention he literally blackmails Katy into his plan, so that’s another warning that he must have some personal gain. Double agent? Big yikes. Luc’s comment on trust? Another big hint. Can I also just say that Luc acts like a spoiled brat who needs to get off his high horse?? He’s trying to replace Matthew by giving some advice, but he’s a smol child. Y’all can’t beat Matthew, he’s still the most underrated character! ANYWAYS, needless to say, I felt like everyone was just walking into Blake’s trap again and their lack of judgement and overconfidence was the cause of their downfall.

Gosh, I have to hand it to Armentrout, Blake is such a good villain--I honestly despise his guts and he’s a fictional character. I think what makes him a good villain is because he acts like a Venus fly trap--what he has to offer seems almost too good to be true and BAM you get sucked in and there’s no escape because he’s also a snake. The airborne onyx, the opal?? “Oh yeah those are minor details” BRO. He’s so manipulative and I feel like he tells little white lies which is how he was able to get away with his crap (in addition to the blackmailing). I think the worst part is that there are some people who are trapped in a similar situation--not the alien thing, but the manipulation of a partner or a “friend”, which stems from the same ‘methods’, if that makes sense. I also just have a question about a small detail that never made sense to me. So upon Blake’s death, Nancy would get a letter and she finds out about everything--Katy, Dawson, etc. But...how would the letter be sent???? Blake’s dead so that’s not an option, his uncle is in the same situation...unless there’s an implant watching Blake or there’s some sort of sensor that acts as a trigger...I mean I guess Blake also plays a pretty big role with the DOD so I feel like his death would be learned about pretty quickly, but still...these small details are still details!!

I just remember about halfway through the book, I was like how did we get into this mess. You know when you’re watching a movie or tv series and the characters are in deep trouble and they’re kinda stuck or have only a few options? Yeah, trusting that one person who ends up betraying you will absolutely blow up in your face, and hitting the rewind button isn’t a thing, unfortunately. Anyways, that’s the feeling I had when everything was heading south, and then it just kept getting worse and worse--gaaaahhh. I guess the only thing that wasn’t terrible was Katy and Daemon’s relationship. As I’ve already mentioned, some of those scenes were super steamy, and I’m sure the last two books will be no different (spoiler--I already know something that happens within the next two books but I forget when it happens lmao). Their relationship went from 0-100 quickly, but also because it developed over the course of 2 books, the pacing seemed reasonable?? 

And finally, I wanted to briefly mention Matthew and how he’s still underrated. LISTEN. This man literally says stuff aloud that’s on everyone’s minds; “Ash, you need to learn a tad bit more sensitivity". Get  W R E C K E D, Ashley (but for real, she’s developed a lot from book 1, and I think that has to do with maybe accepting that Daemon isn’t in love with her, as well as her brother’s death). Matthew is literally the glue that keeps the Luxen crew from falling apart, especially during those stressful times, such as the warehouse expeditions. He’s that wholesome but also high key broken character we need to appreciate a lil more.

So overall for me, this book felt slightly like a filler for what’s to come in the second half of this series, but with Armentrout’s writing changing from book one to book three, and the development of the characters and the timeline of the plot, I would say this installment falls between book one and two in terms of the rating. I sincerely hope that the characters continue to grow and develop some thinking skills, especially when it comes to trust and uhh...people whose names start with a B and end with a LAKE...You know the saying...seasons change but people don’t!! Ahhh something tells me Blake will still be in book 4 *sighs heavily*.

I’d love to know your thoughts on this book in the Lux series--how would you rate it compared to the other books in the series? Did you like it or nah? I’d love to know! =D

Thank you for reading my review, I hope you are having an outstanding day, wherever you are in the world!

- Cassandra / an-avid-reader

PS: Happy New Year everybody! I hope 2020 treats y’all well <3

[comicteaparty]

March 23rd-March 29th, 2020 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party week long chat that occurred from March 23rd, 2020 to March 29th, 2020.  The chat focused on Puppeteer by Eightfish.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB START!

Hello and welcome everyone to Comic Tea Party’s Book Club~! This week we’ll be focusing on Puppeteer by Eightfish~! (https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/puppeteer/list?title_no=290620)

You are free to read and comment about the comic all week at your own pace until March 29th, so stop on by whenever it suits your schedule! Discussions are freeform, but we do offer discussion prompts in the pins for those who’d like to have them. Additionally, remember that while constructive criticism is allowed, our focus is to have fun and appreciate the comic! Whether you finish the comic or can only read a few pages, everyone is welcome to join and chat with us!

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 1

1. What did you like about the beginning of the comic?

2. What has been your favorite moment in the comic (so far)?

3. Who is your favorite character?

4. Which characters do like seeing interact the most?

5. What is something you like about the art? If you have a favorite illustration, please share it!

6. What is a theme you like that the comic explores?

7. What do you like about the comic’s story or overall related content?

8. Overall, what do you think the comic’s strengths are?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

eli [a winged tale]

Ooh exciting! I’ll try and get to this soon!

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Yes yes, I had started reading this last week, want to continue and get in on this convo!!

Joichi / Sarah

Oh I'll take a look at reading Puppeteer!

shadowhood

Ditto. Time for another art binge

eli [a winged tale]

1) I love the colours and lighting! As for the story, the banter really drew me in and when J offered freedom, that was my hook 2) My favourite moment was when J tore Eli out of his body! That was a very striking moment. 3) I really like J and Sam They’re both characters with a strong voice and motivation. 4) I enjoy the friendship chat between Sam and Eli. They really ground the whole college experience and the comic world for me. 5) Let me find it! 6) I think the themes of feeling lost in life or directionless after regimented high school are very relatable. It’s one thing to know where you wanna go and want to be but often we feel we’re just floating in reality. 7) I love the aesthetics! Very unique style yet also clear in storytelling! 8) I would say the strengths tie into the fast pace and great characters. I’m not sure where we’re headed in the comic but I’m sure we will get to know why beings like J and the Ocean lady exist and what roles Eli/Sam would play in the story great work Eightfish!

Love this shot! Great paneling!

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

The artwork is so beautiful!

shadowhood

Yeah, the flow of motion is amazing here that's really good gesture drawing

Feather J. Fern

I have to say I love the way you do the limited palette for the first few pages, it's really cool!

mathtans

Oh! From setup to where some f/f romance is implied. I shall read more. (Nice when the ships are verging on canon, if not there...)

Wonder if J is going to set things up such that Eli has to possess one of them.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Aaa, thank you all for the compliments about my art, eli, sssfrs, shadow, feather. I'm really trying to make this thing look good and I'm glad you guys like it.

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

It looks really good!!

eli [a winged tale]

Love it Eightfish! Can’t wait for more!

RebelVampire

What I liked about the beginning is just kind of how jarring it is (in a good way). You get thrown right into a semi-tense/suspicious interaction, and it really kind of sets that tone for the rest of the comic. Which is actually what I like about the story all together. There's always this kind of laid back atmosphere to it where you're never really sure if you should be concerned or not. So it's got this right beat where you aren't always screaming but also aren't ever able to fully relax cause it feels like danger is around the corner. Coincidentally, the beginning is also probably my favorite moment in the comic as well, just cause again, I really love the tone here. My favorite character at the moment is probably J cause I can't figure J out and would like to know more about J. Cause J is just like this chaotic entity who I can't decide is good or evil and it's a complicated mess that I love. As for favorite interactions, definitely Eli and J. I like they're kind of friends, kind or enemies, kind of maybe sort of abusive relationship, maybe kind of sort of cut from the same fabric. There's a lot of levels to their relationship, so I do like seeing where it's going to go.

What I like about the art is just the overall style combined with the color experimentation. I think this in of itself really helps with the tone I keep mentioning, because it'll go from normal colors to suddenly very jarring, dark contrasts. So again, there's always this hint that something just isn't ever right in the world. I also think these features are the comic's strength, since it's a very interesting style that draws the eye.

Lastly for today, themes. I really like that the comic kind of explores ambition vs. lack of ambition. As someone who is more similar to Eli and would be kind of happy to just be people watching mush sometimes, I really relate. However, there are deep questions about whether this is good, whether ambition is better or whether ambition can go too far. So it's kind of good to see this explored and just kind of show that inevitably, people are different and not everyone has the same sorts of drives (or drives at all).

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Oh my god, you have no idea how happy I am to read that. Everything you said was exactly what I was going for and this is very validating

(also, can we just appreciate Rebel for a moment. They take the time to write these in depth analyses of every comic here and I always enjoy reading them. Even if I knew rebel was going to be the only one in this book club I would still be jumping to sign up.) (Not that I don't appreciate everyone else, those comments were lovely as well haha. So interesting to to read eli's thoughts on the characters and what will happen next)(edited)

BriDanann

Also!! Eightfish!! Your comic is so freaking gorgeous! I absolutely love the color scheme and the surrealist feel the art gives off. It really feels like it's otherworldly, but also familiar. Kind of how old Noir movies felt! I've only read the beginning so far and I am loving the tone.

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 2

9. Will Eli actually be satisfied with his decision to just float around away from responsibility in the long term, or do you think that will change? Additionally, what do you think caused Eli to run away from life so much?

10. Do you think Sam will ever come to accept Eli’s decisions, and how will the situation change the two’s relationship? What will Eli teach Sam about trying to fix everything, and how will the two change each other through their interactions?

11. What do you think J ultimately wants in life, and what does that have to do with giving Eli powers? Why is Sam so convinced that J is a demon? In general, do you think Eli, Sam, and Lily can put a stop to J’s mayhem?

12. How do you interpret the story’s title in terms of its significance to the events of the comic? Also, what significance do you think it has towards the theme of beliefs and how beliefs go stronger the more people believe in them?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

mathtans

(This week is kinda kicking my ass but I have finished the read and will find time for some comments in the next day or two. Just putting that out there.)

Okay, just a couple quick thoughts in case anyone else wants to react to them... I think Eli felt like there wasn't much of anything left to him. Didn't seem like he had family checking up on him, and major events like breaking your arm are the sorts of times you learn who's rallying around you. Sam distancing herself was probably the last straw.

I wonder a bit whether Vanessa (the one massively possessed by J, only name dropped in the author notes if memory serves) had a similar path. Or whether she's just off the deep end (maybe she pushed J into the arm breaking on some level).

Also think that Lily's pleased to have someone who can finally do something about the visions she's presumably been having all her life (unless it's a puberty awakening thing), though it does seem like her romance with Sam goes deeper than that. I wonder about her romantic history (but then I wonder about that with all f/f ships). And could Sam be bi? Or is she not straight, and part of that is what pulled her from Eli?

As I say, couple quick thoughts.

RebelVampire

@mathtans Those are some good points about Eli's family. I have to say I did kind of where they were at, cause at the very least I do get the impression Eli doesn't feel like they can be relied on. But I do think isolation is playing a big role in Eli's decision making right now.

Do I think Eli will actually be satisfied with his decision? Yes and no. I kind of feel like Eli would be fine with it overall but that inevitably extenuating circumstances will ruin the whole thing. Otherwise I honestly think Eli might be content if people around would accept it. As for why Eli is causing to run away from life, probably social pressure and isolation. It's hard to deal with life if you have no one around you, and also hard to deal with society when you really just don't have ambitions, cause society is very much about ambition. As for Sam, I think this is also a yes and a no. I think Sam will blame herself for Eli's choices as she comes to understand them more, but at the same time learn to let Eli live as Eli sees fit. I do think Sam will learn a valuable lesson though that not everything she thinks is broken is, and even if it is, sometimes people have to learn for themselves. So I think it'll bring Eli and Sam closer.

As for what J wants, I think it's probably friends. I think J fell in with Eli because they're both just kind of lonely souls. And while Eli expresses this in further isolation, J acts out and does everything possible to get attention. I do think the group will put a stop to J's shenanigans though, but I'm also feeling that it won't be a defeating of the villain (but this may be wishful thinking cause I do sympathize with J). I kind of get the feeling the title is meant to reflect both literally that J is turning people into puppets but also the complicated relationship people have with the concept of control. Like Sam for example. Sam clearly wants to fix and "control" things to suit them to how she wants. Also, in the Eli/J relationship, there's a question of who controls who to a degree. As for its connection to belief, I think I'd argue the strong our beliefs are in something, the more those beliefs have control of our lives. And I think that's something we once again see with J a lot in that J is literally controlling people while people seem convinced they control themselves.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Oh Rebel, mathtans, your comments make me just want to just spoil the entire story and blurt out everything right here. It's been so good seeing that so much of my intent was coming through.

@mathtans Sam is indeed not straight. I wonder what made you see her as bisexual specifically?(edited)

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

I don’t think Sam had any malicious intent in keeping her distance from Eli, nor was it a case of “I’ve got a girlfriend now so I don’t need to talk to my other friends”. To me, Sam very much sees herself as the only one with the power to protect people, and because of that she feels it’s her duty to control what people get involved, where everyone goes, etc. Sam can keep this city under control, and thus she must. And, yeah, I agree with @RebelVampire that control is one of the main themes of the comic in general. Like J is constantly egging Eli on to control others, and one of their main points is that ordinary people often are looking to delegate control to someone else. And this current segment is the perfect lesson on how it doesn’t have to be one person in control - Eli and Sam can both be in control at once.(edited)

One thing I feel like should be mentioned though - the factor of Eli potentially being nb factoring into his decision? Like, when he first becomes a puppetmaster, one of the first things Eli says is “how come I still look like me” (i.e., rather than androgynous like J?), and one of the things Eli does to practice out shape shifting is try on dresses.

mathtans

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) Oh, nothing specifically made me see Sam as bisexual, but nothing made me see her as exclusively lesbian either. I've learned not to take that stuff for granted and wait for it be be spelled out (I'm also not the most observant though). In fact I have a f/f relationship in my writing where one of them is stated bisexual.

Also, good point snuffy on the androgynous aspect, never occurred to me there.

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 3

13. What are you most looking forward to seeing in regards to the comic?

14. Any final words of encouragement for the comic?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

mathtans

Okay, let's address some questions to the best of my abilities. ^.^ Regarding the start, as was mentioned, the muted colours and dark character seemed to fit the tone. I thought the cutaway was a time skip but it made sense when we came back later.

My favourite moment was actually when Sam and Lily spent the night in Eli's apartment. Aside from helping to confirm the f/f relation (a personal taste), it was subtle (like, just a friend wouldn't necessarily go along with things for that time) versus making out or something (which wouldn't fit the tone). And at the same time, it showed that Eli was separating himself from his past life, not even going back to check in... Sam honestly seems to be his only tie. (And I kinda wonder where his original body is, if it even exists?)

Favourite character is tough. Honestly, maybe Lily because she seems so innocent, having been drawn into things... and I wonder if J ever approached her to get to Sam? Or has the focus always been on Eli? It's not that I dislike the other characters, it's more that one of their flaws seems to be a lack of communication. The sort of thing that makes me sigh, even though it fits with what we've seen and is helping motivate the plot.

That said, yeah the Sam and Eli interactions are really good, right from the moment of "don't touch me" and Sam totally respected that as they got caught up. They obviously do care for each other in the friend way. (I wonder if Eli wanted more? Could that be why he shifted female, to be closer to Sam?)

I'm not good with art or themes. -.- The way the being in the harbour was drawn was good though from what I recall, helped to show the scope of the supernatural too. I guess a theme of belonging? Or friendship?

I haven't said much about J yet, but I think that is a something I like and a strength, the plotting... trying to guess the next move. And maybe they want to become as popular as the larger demon? Definitely drives the other characters forwards. And reminds me of Rebel's comment about ambition being a theme... makes sense in retrospect. (And yes, much appreciation to Rebel. ^.- )

9. I think Eli will eventually be satisfied, though I think he's realizing that he's becoming a bit of a pawn in a larger game, not having considered the scope of his transformation. And I already mentioned about his family. And Rebel made good points there too.

I think Sam's starting to accept the change, though not necessarily the reason for it (and I'm not sure she or we truly know what that is). What with her trusting him to possess. In fact, another reason why Eli might have done this was to be of more use to Sam, though that may not have been a conscious decision. The dynamic will be interesting.

Here I'm diverging from Rebel in that I think J wants to be recognized as a more important demon (though that's similar to having friends, it doesn't need to be). Maybe others have tried to take over beings like Sam without success? Or like Ocean Lady are so far above that they don't care? Maybe there's a clue somewhere in why Vanessa isn't enough for J lately.

That's a really interesting point in terms of the title... at first I figured it was the idea of Eli jumping into bodies. But of course, he's not really into that, and it's more J... who is perhaps puppeteering even beyond that, pulling the strings of people that aren't possessed. (There was mention of squid too, I wonder if the tentacles of a squid could be like the strings on a puppet?) Anyhue.

Will be interesting to see Lily's reaction to what's going on, as I have a suspicion that she'll show up... and perhaps blame herself for not being there when Eli was (even though Eli was brought in later). Or she could misinterpret the situation and think Eli's gone evil! Who knows. (How long has she been going out with Lily again?)

I think that's all for now. Best with it!

shadowhood

Yoooo sorry for the late response. Alright I'll try to answer the prompts as succinctly as I can. 1. The art style is very aesthetically pleasing! I love how you use mainly black against a lot of other bright colours like tan/light blue/gold; it gives it almost a Grecian vase vibe!

2. I have two actually!

The first one because it hit a really close hit to home. I loved seeing a real, down to earth conversation between friends and it felt...real. Seeing concerned friends talking about an abusive relationship and not....exploding is very refreshing.

The second one because I absolutely love that last panel, where J plays around with her words and follows through with a similar action. It felt like she was toying with Sam and it reminded me of the scene in Aladdin, where Jafar was toying with Aladdin with his words. Probably my favourite villain scene of J.

3. Funnily enough, I really like Sam. She's that one friend who's shown to be concerned for Eli, but she knows that she can't force him out of the abusive relationship. She respects his boundaries and is overall a good friend. That's rare and usually underappreciated in real life.

4. The interactions between Sam and Eli were the best for me, because they were very heartwarming and the care they show for each other resonates with me

5. The two moments I mentioned were my top favourites, actually!

6. The idea that you can't save everyone is one I really like. Sometimes you have to let the person you love make difficult and maybe even foolhardy decisions in life, but that's to let them grow up and mature.

7. Like I said earlier, it reminded me of Grecian vase paintings, which I love! Another thing I love about it is how free the gesture drawings are; drawings such as the hand drawings are testament to that

8. I think the strongest part of Puppeteer is its use of motion; my eye is always drawn to the line of action and it almost felt like a film at some parts. The story is heavily action oriented, which I like

shadowhood

9. Honestly, I don't know. Like @mathtans said, he doesn't seem to have family who check up on him, but he DOES have friends who do! Maybe someday he'll want to change, he'll see that he stayed stagnant while his friends keep on progressing in life. Either he'll go deeper into his isolation or he ultimately decides that this isn't for him. 10. I think it's a sad case where she's going to have to learn to let Eli make his mistakes and grow up. If she's constantly there to fix or solve everything for him, both characters suffer in that no one will learn everything. But hopefully, like other people have said, it brings them closer. 11. From what she's said, I think she wants control and power. But if you want a more indepth answer, I think she wants absolute control and worship from individuals. She wants to be put on a pedestal (wanting to be higher than other people?) and she wants that rush of feeling, that feeling of being dedicated to. But seeing @RebelVampire 's answer, maybe it's a twisted form of trying to keep people from leaving her, similar to how abusers try to keep their victims close. Heck, she could even develop a form of Lima syndrome and sympathize with the victim. I think Sam's and co. can put a stop to it, but ultimately, it's up to ELI himself to do so. 12. I agree with @RebelVampire on this one; Puppeteer can be a reference to how much we let others and their beliefs control us, and how the characters each covet control in some shape or form. Maybe Eli feels like he's lost control of his life and is trying to escape responsibility in a desperate effort to regain it?

13. I'm really looking forward to how this whole Eli/J relationship will affect Eli and his relationship with his friends. I'm also wondering what J's character development would be, if any; would she start sympathizing more with Eli? Learn something new from Eli? Or even become increasingly antagonistic towards Eli? 14. @Eightfish (Puppeteer) I really look forward to reading more from your webcomic, your art and conversation exchanges between your characters are top notch! Keep up the good work

RebelVampire

What I'm most looking forward to in regards to the comic is finding out more about J I think. I'm interested to learn more about the driving force behind J's actions and how those might cause the characters to rethink what J is. As for final words, I really just still enjoyed the atmosphere. So few comics can nail it, but this one really managed to capture that feeling of dread that really keeps you reading. So I can wait to see that be used more throughout the comic.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Thanks @mathtans , @shadowhood , @snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights) for the recent long comments you've posted! It was wonderful reading what you thought about character motivations and themes. And I'm glad so many people said they were looking forward to learning more about J, because that's what I'm most looking forward to writing as well.

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB END!

Thank you everyone so much for reading and chatting about Puppeteer this week! Please also give a special thank you to Eightfish for volunteering the comic and creating it! If you liked Puppeteer, make sure to continue to support it via some of the links below!

Read and Comment: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/puppeteer/list?title_no=290620

Eightfish’s Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/eightfish

[rosebudmendes]

Making Amends

a/n: I apologize for how long it has taken me to write anything...I'm on summer break now so hopefully some inspiration comes my way! This was inspired by my constant binge watching Awkward. 

warnings: its just some little angst...mentions of cheating. 

word count: 1,010

Just give me a second chance!” Shawn had just witnessed something excruciating. As you were lost in the moment with an intellectual classmate, Shawn had been preparing a surprise picnic in your backyard. You didn’t mean for this to happen, you never had intentions of locking lips with Jason. Something just took over your mind and body. There seemed to be a third party host had traveled into your bloodstream and started making its own decisions, leaving you with the repercussions. 

“Save it. I’m outta here.” Shawn walked or jogged to his jeep. You were left standing in your front yard crying while Jason quickly sprinted from the scene of the crime. How could you let this happen? Things between you and Shawn were going great. Every chance you got you would show him off to your friends, invited him over to every family outing, even called off of work to spend time with him before tour. 

If Shawn was the perfect boyfriend, why did you cheat on him? You tried to analyze the last few months you spent together to tell if your heart wanted something different. But nothing jumping out. He checked all of your boxes, and you felt like a complete idiot for ruining what could have lasted forever. You had always dreamed of being with a man like Shawn. It wasn’t only his smoking good looks that kept you around, it was the way he looked at you when he thought you were asleep. The way he would grab your hand in public for the entire world to see. He wasn’t ashamed of you, and never gave you a reason to betray him. Shawn was the only person who let you be 100% yourself, loving you through all the weird and dramatic quirks. His family loved you as well, basically taking you in as their own. Shawn understood your anxieties and did everything he could to remind you how loved you are. You didn’t deserve Shawn, and this forces you to continue to fixate on the current events of this week. 

Maybe you could find a way to put the wrong on Jason. He was the one who made the first move, and the one who had been flirting with you for weeks now. He even dedicated one of his pieces to you before reading it in front of the student body. You had always thought of him as a friend, though. That was until you noticed how muscular his arms were, and how sexy it was when he used his knowledge in casual conversation. Face it, Jason was your sexual fantasy. But Shawn was your soulmate, and you were determined to make up if it was the last thing you did. 

After letting Shawn cool down for a few days, you invited him to meet you in a coffee shop near your house. A public place guaranteed that you both had to be on your best behavior. Which meant no yelling, no shouting, and no storming off. Shawn wasn’t usually the one to take upon these defensive mannerisms, but you knew yourself and needed to set some boundaries. 

Shawn was already sitting at a table when you arrived. You walked over to him and put your arms out for a hug, but Shawn didn’t move. Barely making eye contact he mumbled, “how have you been?” It stung. Seeing him broken and in pain because of you. All you wanted was to remedy the negative emotions that you clearly caused. 

“Good, considering. you?” You tried to sound confident while not seem like the victim of the situation.  

Shawn just scoffed in disgust at your concern, avoiding eye contact yet again. “How long has this been going on?” His voice made it clear how he was feeling about the position you had put him in. 

“It only happened once. And you have to believe me, Shawn. It meant nothing.” Tears were already forming in your eyes. Shawn noticed, which made him tear up too. 

“Why did you do it, y/n? Do you not love me anymore?” His voice was shaking and on the brink of breaking. 

Without thinking you grabbed his hands and he immediately pulled them away. “No, Shawn I love you more than anything in this world.” You were full on crying now. His face was red and splotchy, something that only happened when he was sad or mad. Given the situation, it could have been both. Shawn needed to know the truth, no matter if he was going to believe you or not. Guilt and shame were eating you alive and speaking your truth might be the only way to remedy those emotions. 

So you told him everything. From the flirting in class to the meaningful dedications. Shawn sat there and listened, showing little to no expression on his face during it all. That was one thing Shawn was really good at. Listening. No matter the day, or time, Shawn was always intentionally there for you. This was a time for Shawn to be selfish, to only hear what he wanted to hear. But he didn't. He listened to the truth with an open mind, and a wounded heart, for you. For your guys’ relationship. 

“It was just a fantasy for me Shawn, and fantasies are fake. But what we have, this is irreplaceable. This is forever.” 

Shawn had let a few tears fall by now, and the tension between you had dismissed. “I believe you.” When he spoke his voice was deep and cracked. It broke your heart knowing you caused this pain. Knowing that you were one of the only people who could take away the negative thoughts and anxiousness. But not this time. “I can forgive you, y/n. I just need some time.”

Although you wanted the quick and instant fix, you accepted his compromise. You needed to respect his decision and trust in the process. By the end of this whole disaster, a stronger relationship would have been built. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry I ever hurt you.” 

[iinspirationalquotesforlife-blog]

Impressive Quotes - More Than Nice Phrases Put Together

A good life includes keepin constantly your eyes on the distant hills of your daily life purpose while continuous to put one foot facing one other along the road of everyday life. However, it's all too easy to get rid of sight of the goal and get lost in everyday frustrations, angers and disappointments.

Including everyday reminders of your lifetime purpose in each day's schedule can help in keeping your emphasis on your own goals. Good pointers can include meditation, prayer, yoga, good affirmations, and also daily inspirational quotes.

Inspirational quotes are generally fragmentary thoughts, taken out of context, which are most readily useful applied to have you thinking about their underlying indicating and concerning the huge commitments and prices of your life. As an example, let us take a look at President Franklin Roosevelt's quote , "The thing we have to anxiety is fear it self - nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror." These words were a part of President Roosevelt's First Inaugural Address on March last 1933, in the depths of the Great Depression. But is it necessary to know the situation to be able to recognize thinking and use it in your lifetime? Not merely could be the situation maybe not required, but i think, it really makes it harder to target the inspiration all on your own issues about fear.

Your fears are not concerning the despair of 1933, or just around the 2nd Earth War, which many people think Roosevelt was mentioning to. Whatsoever your doubts, it's inspirational to be advised that fear, especially the formless anxiety about the as yet not known, is the real enemy of residing a joyful and successful life.

inspirational quotes for life

As yet another example, contemplate Helen Keller's words, "Living is either a exciting adventure, or nothing." Helen Keller overcame being deaf and blind from the age of 19 months to become an author and cultural activist. For the reason that situation, the quote posseses an extra "whoa" factor - that somebody bearing these burdens can still talk about a perfect living as a exciting adventure. Nevertheless, being an inspirational quote to steer your personal life, Keller's words, separate of their situation, really are a powerful reminder to focus on the large image - what you came here to do.

There is often disagreement around the origin of an inspirational quote. For example, Martin Luther King Jr. may or might not need claimed, ""Trust is getting the first step even when you do not see the complete staircase." Level Twain quite likely did not state, "Twenty years from now you will be more unhappy by what exactly you didn't do than by the ones you did do." Does it produce an inspirational quote less meaningful or less inspirational since the author is unknown? For me personally, the value of inspirational quotes is mainly in what, and how I could apply them to my very own living, as opposed to in historic context.

Please get and check always the Bing keyword instrument for the number of instances " inspirational quotes " will be looked in a month. I acquired the surprise of my entire life when I saw the 1 million figure. That reveals the value people give for quotes , especially those which are impressive and motivational.

First of all, these types of quotes are said by individuals who have reached good levels inside their life. Thus giving more reason for you really to feel and accept these inspirational quotes. Even although messages in the quotes may be difficult to use in your daily life, people have tried it over the years and have seen advantages of it. So this encourages you to take action.

The basis cause of every thing nowadays can be your thoughts. Whenever you study these inspirational quotes they carry an immediate change to your believed process. That will help you to redirect your energies towards a confident route, which will help you reap better benefits in life. Another benefit of small inspirational quotes is that it's easily available and lots in number. In addition, you have the option of examining the quotes of your preferred personalities.

Still another thing that you might find in inspirational quotes may be the target it provides for effects than logic. Let's just take one quote - "Nothing is impossible ".The sensible mind or mediocre brain gives reasons, whereas a motivated individual may inspire you to take action. Roger Bannister impact is an excellent example I can offer you with this situation. Before Edison everyone said it absolutely was difficult to innovate an electrical bulb. He may have read a few inspirational quotes during that point itself.

Inspirational quotes catches your unconscious mind, which types 90% of your full mind. The subconscious brain could be the creative mind. So, when it is usually filled up with positive directions it provides a general modify in your general personality. Most of the quotes will rarely get you 10-20 moments to swallow. However the information within these motivational quotes are very major, that will be ample for months or even years. In the event that you strongly produce a examine of quotes , you should come to see, they were perhaps not created, somewhat it simply happened by accident. Great leaders and visionaries claim points from their life experience that will be picked up by their fans and they will publicize it to the world. So it's perhaps not offered for you, instead it's passed from generation to technology, such as for instance a uncommon gem.

[omgktlouchheim]

Word Vomit Wednesday - Romanticizing Rejection

Welcome to Word Vomit Wednesday! A series of blog posts where I attempt to process thoughts and feelings around a specific topic or current events that I, and sometimes the rest of the Internet, ruminate obsessively about. All thoughts/opinions/experiences are my own (unless otherwise indicated); I don’t claim anything that I write to represent anyone other than myself.

Recently, I’ve made some more deliberate efforts to create community and meet people now that I’m more settled and steady in Tucson. This need to venture out and start testing the waters led me to sign up for a three-month virtual community that was being beta-tested by my life-coach. The calls were scheduled to happen once a month for two hours with a max of up to 30 people. They began with an exercise to ground us and any anxieties we might be bringing into the call, a brief ice-breaker to get acquainted with one another, then a specific topic that the majority voted for would be presented, either by my life coach or a volunteer from the group that we would build a conversation around. On the last call that we had in November, the topic was about rejection. Mostly around intimate or romantic relationships, although we also got into the ways we’ve felt rejected by others in often small, subtle ways that resulted in big impacts on our lives. Other than discussing those smaller moments I admit, I was not interested in the topic. I couldn’t quite figure out what was so compelling about rejection.

Then, as I do, I started thinking about it. I read a Refinery29 article that talked about the man who invented “Rejection Therapy,” a game where the aim is to get rejected by others to build resilience to the fear of rejection, and watched a TedTalk where another man who took the game and challenged himself to vlog getting rejected for 100 days and how it changed his life for the better. As I thought, and read, and watched I came to an understanding that underneath the blanket of “rejection” seems to be where the issues actually lie. Fear of putting yourself out there. Not wanting to open yourself up to potentially painful situations. Anxious/avoidant/dysfunctional attachment issues. Asking for help or for something that you want or need. Tapping into your own creativity. Setting a boundary. The rejection itself doesn’t seem to be the actual issue. The underlying issue is showing up in the world fully as yourself and the reality that you may have to make some tough decisions regarding your relationships when certain people are not so accepting. Sometimes the fear of rejection is also about how a rejection is relayed. Humans are notorious for responding to others in a multitude of fucked up ways. Ghosting, public humiliation, abuse, torture, condescension/belittling/minimizing, interrupting, ignoring, attacking, defending, stonewalling, projecting/deflecting, lying… the list goes on and on. Given all of this, I feel like rejection and the ways it can be demonstrated is more telling of the source and is imperative information to have for our own health and well-being.

Pain, in and of itself, is important. Not in the bullshit “no pain no gain” way, but in that it is a part of the human condition in the same way that joy, sadness, excitement and other emotions and sensations are a part of the human condition. When feelings come up for us, they present us with data based on internal and external stimuli and it is our job to interpret that data as accurately as possible to then take any action that may be required of us. We can have a tendency to have difficulty when thinking about our feelings this way because in this society we are essentially conditioned to cut off communication between ourselves and our emotions and other physiological sensations our bodies use to relay important messages to us. It can make it very hard, scary even, to retrain ourselves to listen to ourselves. Instead we choose to ignore feelings when they come up, maybe become annoyed with ourselves when uncomfortable feelings arise, binge eat to try to physically shove discomfort down, shop compulsively because we think something external will quiet or “fix” the internal, and develop a variety of other coping mechanisms because we don’t know what to do with them and probably had never been given the space to safely explore what they could be trying to tell us. When pain gets activated either physically or emotionally, it usually means a major boundary has been crossed, or something is wrong and needs to be checked out right away. When we stub our toe walking into the couch going from one room to the next in our house, we learn to pay more attention to our surroundings and adapt. When we’ve been running around from errand to errand all day and our body begins to ache, we know we’ve reached our limit and need to take a break. And when we come down with some illness and are coughing so hard that it hurts to even breathe, we go to the doctor. Because we feel pain, we are able to take charge and make any number of possible necessary changes to our lives. It can become trickier to know what action to take when our feelings get hurt (because it’s both a physical and  largely internal response), but really the same principles apply. When someone says or does something that hurts your feelings you figure out what nerve that hit and determine if this is a person you keep in your life and to what extent based on your particular boundaries and needs. Easier said than done, I know. 

On the flip side of this, and as the title of this essay indicates, we are not only a society that teaches us to fear pain and any “negative” feelings but we are also one that is OBSESSED with suffering. Everything from our narratives about tragic “starving artists,” the 24-hour news cycle, the internet, the romanticization of drama in our relationships, violence permeates almost every aspect of our culture. There is a huge difference between pain and suffering though. Pain, like I said before, is there to relay a message to us that we then interpret, take action on, and release. Suffering, on the other hand, is something we do to ourselves. We replay old narratives on loops that keep us trapped in emotional purgatory and we take our issues out on others instead of tackling them head on and making difficult but necessary changes in our lives. And sometimes we even allow and cause the suffering of others because we benefit from the exploitation of others. So, it’s entirely possible that it may not even be pain from rejection we’re all trying to avoid, but all pain because we’re already so overloaded with so much pain AND suffering. We are so desensitized to pain in a variety of forms, no wonder our relationship with it is dysfunctional. We may honestly, be too tired to even think about engaging with it. Unfortunately, when we ignore it we allow injustice to flourish and we lose out on so much. Not only do we not see all the choices and opportunities laid out before us, or take risks in relationships, we are so used to fear that we end up rejecting ourselves. Our worlds become so small and we do this to ourselves. And this is the main difference between pain and suffering. Pain releases when we recognize it and take action, suffering is what we do to ourselves by choice even when there are so many other options available to us.  

We will often choose to reject and betray ourselves before stepping into the unknown. I am no stranger to this myself. There have been so many times that I had an inkling to do that thing or talk to that person or allow myself to want something and I never would. I would make up some excuse or other and not give myself a chance. “Well, if they’re interested they’ll say something. I don’t want to bother them.” “That sounds like a really cool job, but I don’t think I’m qualified.” “I’m not going to submit this project for the competition, I probably don’t have a shot at winning.” This year I’ve been recognizing many of the ways in which I reject myself, often so subtly, that I barely even know I’m doing it. Because it’s typically modeled and learned behavior and unless we start doing healing work, rejecting ourselves just seems normal. It takes a lot of work just to hear the whispers: “Don’t go out tonight, everybody sucks so it’s not like you’d meet anyone decent anyway,” “Don’t speak your truth because everyone you care about will abandon you,” “You have to hustle or you’ll never be worthy of success or love.” There are probably millions of examples and they’ll show up differently for different people. Not only do we adopt these behaviors and narratives, we let them drive everything we do because we believe they are part of our identities. It’s a lie. The fact is, you get to decide who you want to be and how you want to show up in the world. It takes practice, work, and a lot of self-discovery. We also face many obstacles and various forms of systemic oppression that are so much larger than any one individual, which can also be another reason why showing up as yourself can feel dangerous. As difficult and scary as it may be, it’s also worth it even if you don’t initially know  how you’re going to do it or where it’s going to take you. 

There’s this game I really like to play on my phone called Flow. It’s kind of like a connect-the-dots puzzle. You have a shape with multiple pairs of dots inside that you have to connect without impeding the other paths of the other connecting dots. What I like most about this game is that once you get one path, the other ones start to become more clear. Flow is all about taking that first step on one path and connecting the dots as you go. The paths are not always linear and straightforward. Sometimes there are twists, sharp-corners and backtracking. But once you start toward something; an idea, goal, etc., worlds you never knew existed start to open up. Toward the end of my studies to get my certificate in audio engineering and production the faculty held a competition for the post-production projects we’d been working on. I hadn’t planned on submitting mine even though I loved it and was really proud of the work I did and how it turned out. The moment I was aware of the competition I heard a whisper that said, “It’s probably not as good as other people’s.” Flash forward: I won first place. After seeing my project, a friend in my class said I should submit it. For whatever reason, I decided to internalize his belief in me and my talent and I went for it. Had I not done that I would have missed out, not only on winning the top prize, but on being asked about my process and being celebrated for something really cool that I did and integrating more self-confidence and the message that I deserve to be in the running for the things I want into my psyche. What I learned from that and other experiences since, is that on the flip side of rejection is courage.

Katie Louchheim would like to wish everyone a very Merry Impeachmas!

[thewritewolf]

Fictober Day 29 - At Least It Can’t Get Any Worse

Fair warning, this is a late-teens sleepover drabble, so be prepared for slightly more mature content than I usually post. Or, perhaps more accurately, slightly more immature content.

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

“At least it can’t get any worse,” Marinette sighed as her turn came up. It had been an... interesting game of truth or dare so far. Her sleepovers tended to be fairly small affairs. Usually just a guest or two, almost always Alya. But this time...

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, pigtails.” Alix watched her with an evil grin on her face and Marinette felt fear despite the fact that she wasn’t the one about to give her dare.

...This time the entire girl squad was here. The same team that she’d made it to their last year of school with. A pang of sadness went through her as she considered that this was probably one of the last times they’d get to hang out like this.

Marinette felt fear even though Alix wasn’t the one about to give her the dare. Which honestly was for the best, given her impact on the game thus far. Alix had turned the game from Truth or Dare to just Dare and her orders have all been extraordinarily embarrassing. She set the bar fairly high for dares and everybody had been struggling to one up each other. There was an out, of course, a way to avoid the dare, but each person only has so many articles of clothing on before they don’t have any left to protect them.

“Alright, Rose, it’s your turn to spin.” Alya was talking, but Marinette was thinking back to the dares she’d already been forced into.

Even the tamest of them had caused problems. Sure, screaming ‘penis’ might not seem that bad on paper, but then there are the fears about accidentally waking up parents, or even if neighbors overheard her. How can she possibly explain without sounding immature or insane? ‘Well what was I going to do papa - not accept the dare?!’ Yeah no. Thankfully, no one had come knocking on her door.

She watched the bottle (itself a relic from their movie binge) spin as she remembered the dare after that. They’d really caught her in a pickle with that one. She was going to lose an article of clothing either way, but she figured that if everything went well, then removing her bra without taking off her shirt wouldn’t cause any problems down the road. She was already out of tertiary clothes, so now she was down to her pajamas and shirt. A very breezy shirt, she had come to realize.

“Marinette! Okay, Rose, what is your dare for our brave, brave host?”

Her cheeks reddened when she spared a glance for the forgotten box of condoms. She had (truthfully) told her friends that her parents had gotten them when she first started showing an interest in boys (or, rather, ‘boy’), but they insisted on wild speculation, like if she had gotten them thinking that she’d get with Adrien any day now and get right into… business. Not far from the box was the dare associated with it - her failed attempt at a condom balloon animal. Her nose wrinkled at the memory. Embarrassing, but not the worst event of the night.

The sweet blonde girl tapped at her chin, deep in thought. Marinette sighed in relief. Rose was innocent and didn’t have a malevolent bone in her body. After whatever tame dare she gave, Marinette would be safe for a few rounds more. Maybe by then, they’d be done with this game.

Rose’s eyes landed on a spot of the wall and lit up. “Marinette, I dare you to call Adrien and confess your feelings for him!”

Marinette screeched. “What?! No - I’ll make ten, twenty condom balloon animals, just please-”

“The rules are the rules,” Mylene said. She added under her breath, “No matter how much we wish they weren’t.”

An arm wrapped around her shoulder and she was pulled closer to Alya. “Sorry, girl, but hey! This has been a long time coming and you’re running out of time to make your move. You don’t want Adrien to slip away, right?”

“No… but-”

Alix made a slashing motion with her arm. “No buts, although you’re getting close to showing yours.”

That was true. She couldn’t afford to lose any more clothes. Besides… maybe Alya was right? Maybe she should take this opportunity to confess her feelings before it was too late. Better to know for sure one way or another if her and Adrien were possible before he vanished from her life forever.

Just as she mustered her courage, a phone - her phone, she belatedly realized - was tossed at her and she juggled it in an attempt to catch it. It was ringing. They’d already dialed his number while she was busy psyching herself up. She was just about to glare at them, or maybe berate them, but then… he answered.

“Hello? Marinette?” His voice was deep from exhaustion and he didn’t sound more than a hand’s breadth from sleep and boy was it hot in here. Had they woken him up? She winced after glancing at the clock. One in the morning. Sure, it was the weekend, but knowing Adrien’s schedule…

“Uh, hi! Adrien! Marinette! That’s uh, that’s me. Marinette? Class we go to together. Your classmate?” There was a chorus of heads shaking and facepalming around the room.

Thankfully, he just chuckled. “Hey, Mari. You don’t usually call me this late at night.” There was a pause and she could faintly hear him yawning. “Or at all, come to think of it. Something wrong? Do you need to talk?”

“N-no, no, nothing’s wrong, I just, uh, I needed to tell you something.” Her friends gestured for her to continue, but she clammed up, absolutely terrified.

“Are you okay? You sound scared.” Even through the fog of terror, she was touched by the genuine concern in his voice.

“Y-yes, I’m fine.” She bite her lower lip, lowering her voice to a whisper, she added. “I am scared though.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised, as if she never showed fear and was the very face of bravery. Even after all these years of running from him in panic every time she tried to strike up a conversation with him. “Talk me through it.”

“I… I can’t! I’m too scared.”

“Then we don’t have to just yet, okay?” There was a shuffling on the other side of the line, presumably as he sat up in bed. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

She took a few deep breaths. It wasn’t fair of her to wake him up and keep him waiting like this - she realized that. But his calm patience was doing wonders for her nerves. Maybe that’s why she never gave up on this crush. No matter how many times she’d embarrassed herself in front of him, he never thought less of her and never made fun of her for it. It was something she was endlessly grateful for.

“Okay… I, I think I’m r-ready.” She looked around the room for support. Rose was bouncing with excitement, barely held in check by a smiling Juleka. Alix gave her a thumbs up and a half grin and right beside her, Mylene was watching with wide eyes and half buried in her blanket. Alya gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Do… do you want to go out with me?”

There was a long pause where all Marinette could hear was the pounding of her own heart. The seconds dragged on and tension was thick in the room as they all waited on Adrien’s reply.

“Like… on a date...?”

“YES!” She blurted out. “I mean, yes. A date. With me. Please?”

Another long pause. “Sure.” The tension exploded into just barely silent commotion and cheering. “Nineteen hundred tomor-” He interrupted himself. “Er, later today, work for you?”

“Yes…?” She was only just barely able to respond, fairly certain she was having an out-of-body experience right now.

“Awesome! I’ll swing by around then. Wear your best and I’ll wear mine. Anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“Uh… no, I uh, I think I’m good.” Her body responded automatically, high functions shutting down from the sheer wall of joy and happiness that had landed on her. Years of build-up tumbling down on top of her.

“Cool! See you then.” He yawned again. “Get some sleep, alright? Night.”

“Night…” She muttered as they hung up.

Silence.

Alya grinned from ear to ear. “Well, I guess our game is over since Marinette needs her beauty sleep for her date.”