#I exclusively read books by local authors in Aus and they were all the best books I’ve ever read so)

[didnt-hear-idsb-live-again]

I’ll have you all know I just picked up the book, read that it takes place in Australia and is by an Australian author, and put it in my basket to purchase it without even reading the rest.

[earnestly-endlessly]

hey!! Your fic recommendations are always elite–I was wondering if you had any kid fics, thank you <3

Hi anon. I have plenty of kid fics for you. Since you didn't quite specify what kind of kid fic you wanted I decided to divide it into fics where Charles and Erik are kids or get deaged and fics that involve kids. This is kind of a long list so I hope that there are plenty of new fics for you to read.

Cherik Kid Fic

--They are kids or get deaged--

Conspiracy of Kisses - Alaceron

Summary: Seven-year-old Erik needs to keep his telepathic best friend Charles from finding out that he wants to kiss him. But that's okay, because he has a plan - he'll put on a tinfoil hat.

Chasing After You - Alaceron

Summary: Charles isn't very good at tag. Erik helps

We’ll be the sum - afrocurl, ninemoons42

Summary: In between bouts of blanket burrito-ing and vegging out on movies, Charles and Erik figure out how they currently feel about each other.

Of course, they're schoolboys and they're on a sleepover and also Edie dotes on them both excessively, so things work out just fine.

Growing pains - ikeracity

Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.

Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.

Valentine’s day – ikeracity

Summary: Kid fic! Erik waits impatiently all day at school to give Charles a card for Valentine's Day. Maybe Charles has something for him too...?

Now You Know You Know it Now – luninosity

Summary: Erik’s not sure why he keeps glancing at the other boy. Not as if Erik likes other kids, or other people in general, for that matter. But still—he finds himself looking. Again.

This Family Comes with Batteries - Fishwrites, lynneh

Summary: An orphaned Charles Xavier goes to live with his Godfather: Tony Stark. This story is a tale of what would have happened to the events of MCU, if Tony was raising a six year old telepath in Stark Tower. There is also the matter of Charles' robot AI manny/bodyguard/tutor/only-friend, David.

You’re Not Doing This Alone – flightinflame, Lynds

Summary: What's meant to be a simple recruitment mission leads to both Erik and Charles being de-aged back to thirteen years old. Terrified and out of their depth, the boys try to hide their situation and help each other until they can work out what is going on.

Charles Xavier, A Retelling – Extra_fried_noodles

Summary: An attempt to reverse his paralysis goes wrong, and Charles is de-aged into a 2 year old toddler. While Hank scrambles to fix the situation, the whole gang is here to help. Through a mix of selective memory, they watch Charles relive his childhood, revealing some deeply hidden and painful truths.

Protective Instinct – Groovyhornbill

Summary: Charles and Erik were testing Cerebro’s new prototype when things went very wrong.

Divergence – Lynds

Summary: Universes and timelines collide, dropping two younger versions of Charles Xavier into the midst of the hunt for Sebastian Shaw. Now the newly formed X-men have to deal with a strangely quiet and self-reliant six year old, and a sixteen year old covered in bruises.

Erik, in particular, has to accept that the man he loves hasn't had the kind, happy upbringing he wished for him. But these children are here now, and Erik's not going to let anyone hurt them this time.

--Where they have kids--

Sink or Swim – endingthemes

Summary: Erik is a struggling single dad of three kids with a burning hatred for Sebastian Shaw, the man who wronged him years ago. He’s tried to move on with his life, but a run-in with Shaw’s rude, spoiled omega, Charles, drags up old anger. When Charles ends up in the hospital after an accident, Erik goes to confront him only to find that Charles has amnesia. In the confusion, Charles mistakenly assumes that Erik is his mate.

Erik knows he should clear up the misunderstanding, but how can he pass up this perfect chance for a little revenge?

(An Overboard AU)

Rumor Has It - blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Words and Pictures – pocky_slash

Summary: When Lorna's powers manifest early, Charles Xavier's mutant picture books are the perfect teaching tool. Erik just hadn't expected the author to be so young. Or attractive. Or available.

Write this number down (you can call it anytime) – pocky_slash

Summary: When Erik upsets his children, they have a habit of running away from home--and straight to Charles' school for cookies and consolation. Charles doesn't mind the visitors, but as they appear more and more frequently, he realizes that sooner or later, he and Erik are going to have to talk about what happened on the beach and what it means for their future and the future of Erik's children.

Dress Your Family in Plaid and Skinny Jeans – cygnaut

Summary: Erik and Charles meet at the mutant playgroup/parenting support circle and they instantly hit it off. And so do their kids, Lorna and David.

Not What I was Expecting (So Much Better) – lazulisong

Summary: Erik, the single father, hires Charles, the grad student with the slightly shady past, to be his manny.

Heli Cases – Black_Betty

Summary: "Heli Cases" is a program on PBS whose aim is to educate on the rapidly increasing occurrence of genetic mutation in the general populous by breaking the complex science down into palatable, easy to digest pieces.

It is also the only thing that helps Erik get his fussy daughter to fall asleep.

(Featuring Dadneto, baby Lorna and the struggles of single fatherhood, and Charles as the host of a late night show about genetics.)

Doing Something for Yourself – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik is a hard working engineer and single dad, Charles runs a local Community Center where Wanda and Pietro spend their time after school. Erik accidentally makes Charles' acquaintance one Wednesday evening when he's running late from work. Erik has no idea if he stands a chance with his new acquaintance, but that isn't going to keep him from falling for the guy.

A Good Dad – listerinezero

Summary: Ten years later, Magneto has left the Brotherhood and Raven asks Charles to help her find him. Charles discovers that Erik is the single father of five year old twins Wanda and Pietro, and he is doing everything he can to keep them safe from his former enemies.

Take a Chance (On Me) – Ook

Summary: In which Charles, terrorised by his abusive ex, takes his young son to a small town in America, where they both settle down and make friends with their neighbours. Particularly the town mechanic, Erik, and his foster son, Alex. Requester stated they wanted to "drown in H/C. "

Can’t Buy Me Love – niniblack

Summary: Erik's a single dad struggling to make it work and nab the promotion he's been waiting for. The last thing he needs is to get involved with politician and notorious playboy Charles Xavier.

(The Maid in Manhattan pastiche that no one asked for.)

Ohana – royal_chandler

Summary: Erik's children are absolute hellions. If by hellions, one means children who are incredibly protective of their new family unit and won't let a few household mishaps get in the way of keeping it together.

One Second and a Million Miles – magneto

Summary: Between being a parent to the best baby in the history of man-kind and co-running a Mutant Center in Hell's Kitchen, Erik Lehnsherr has his hands pretty full. Too full, certainly for romance; something that has never really been on his radar to begin with.

All that changes, however, when he meets Dr. Charles Xavier. Handsome, intelligent, capable, kind, an Omega level telepath, and one of the best pediatricians in the state, he's everything Erik didn't know he was looking for. But he's also Lorna's pediatrician which means, of course, he's off-limits. Except how is Erik supposed to try and forget his crush when he and Charles keep running into each other as if fate is trying to tell them something? When, as Charles says, they seem to want the same thing?

Her Only Mutations Were Her Blue Eyes and Her Auburn Hair – Pookaseraph

Summary: While sneaking back out of Russia, Erik and Charles stumble across Anya, Erik's presumed dead daughter, and it changes quite a few little things along the way. Fluffy, self-indulgent, fix-it.

Despicably Yours – Cesare, veryorangecat

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr, AKA Magneto, is a supervillain without equal... except maybe one: Charles Xavier, AKA Professor X, AKA Erik's next door neighbor. When their competition heats up, Erik decides the only way to get ahead is to adopt four mutant orphans to infiltrate Charles's mansion.

Things don't go as planned.

The Wrong Impression – Rosawyn

Summary: Charles is trying to balance the responsibilities of his career with his responsibilities as a single father to a tiny baby. It's not something he ever thought he'd have to do, and it's not as easy as those women on the internet make it look! He does't have much of a social life (unless talking to his sister on the phone and attending a parents' class where he's the only guy count), and he doesn't even have time to think of dating. He's just trying to keep his job - and keep his son fed and healthy.

Marrying a Mob – Ook

Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster".

Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.

Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.

Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.

[floralseokjin]

;good2me (m)

Hoseok has been your friend and one of your roommates for over a year. That’s fine by you. In fact, most of the time he’s getting on your last nerve, even though you love him half to death. He’d agree. But soon you both find out there’s a very thin line between friendship and potential lovers... Are you prepared to cross it? 

pairing; jung hoseok x reader (slight kim seokjin x reader)  genre/warnings; friends to lovers (idiots to lovers), roommate au, bartender! hoseok, romance, bearable angst, a small infidelity, some mature content, implied smut  words; 15,351

author’s note; i started watching new girl again and got inspired by jess and nick’s relationship! Late, but for hoseok’s birthday 🥺💖

“Ohhh!” Hoseok hollered as you walked into the living area, looking up from where he was sat on the couch, flicking through the television. “Mama’s looking sexy!”

“Thank you. She is,” you said, trying to put on your best sexy voice. You did a little spin, before squeezing your cleavage up. “Got a little breast on show. A little booty if I bend over at a ninety degree angle.” You didn’t bend over the whole way, but he got the picture. 

He laughed, genuinely amused. “What is the occasion?” 

Trying to keep your bashful smile away, you failed. Big style. “Seokjin’s taking me out on our very first official date.” 

“Where to? Somewhere fancy no doubt.” 

“It’s a surpriseee.” 

You were giddy. Had been all day. You and Seokjin were finally happening, after all this time. Three months ago it seemed impossible. You had met in a quite unsavoury way, as in, you’d been determined to go out that night and have a one night stand. The one night stand had sure happened, but make that a multiple night stand. 

It was just casual sex for a few weeks. You didn’t know much about one another—more detail would mean this thing would just get deeper, and it was supposed to be the most casual of casual. You had come out of a longterm relationship at the start of the year, nearly 30 and very unsure what to do now when it came to dating. You’d met a couple of guys along the way, but you kept making the same mistake. You kept getting into relationships with them. You were sick of being Serious Sue, you wanted to be Fun Fanny. The nickname wasn’t the most desirable and you quickly stopped announcing that to potential hook ups you found at the bar. (Hoseok said you were giving off vibes you really didn’t want to be giving off.) 

Seokjin was a bit of a closed book back then, you didn’t know his story, why he wanted to keep things so casual. The guy was super sweet, really attentive and amazing in bed, but you didn’t pry. He hadn’t asked for your history, so you didn’t ask for his. Until you found out he was a doctor. A kid’s doctor. Or if you wanted to be official, a paediatrician. The dude was actually perfect, and that’s how you started to fall. 

It didn’t end well. When you confessed your feelings and implied you wanted more, he took off. He was sorry about it, apologised profusely, but he still left. You were heartbroken. But not just because of the rejection. It was because you’d fucked up again, wanted something serious, even though you’d sworn this thing with Seokjin was just a hook up. 

You managed to shake your dark mood, but you couldn’t shake the fact it felt like Seokjin was the one that got away. The one who was husband material if the situation had been different. It still felt like that nearly two months later when you ran into him at a Christmas party. However, to your surprise, he came at you with a thousand apologies. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d let go. He couldn’t concentrate the regret was so deep. He’d just come out of a shitty relationship when he’d met you, he’d gotten hurt and the idea of getting into a fresh relationship so soon had half frightened him to death. But the truth was he really liked you and wanted to be with you. He wanted something serious now, but he totally understood if you told him where to go. 

You very nearly did. You’d put your heart on the line once and he’d stomped all over it. Maybe it was just the stubbornness in you, seeing as you’d secretly held out for this. You’d needed time to think and Seokjin understood. It was actually Hoseok in the end who’d encouraged you to give it a shot. He knew you were frightened of getting hurt, but you deserved happiness and Seokjin could give that to you. (The dude’s perfect, were his exact words. And rich. Bag him now, before I do.) 

“Well, have a great time,” Hoseok grinned, taking a moment to get another look at you. “You look stunning. He’s gonna be blown away.” 

Your phone dinged in your hand. It was Seokjin, he’d just pulled up. “That’s him now.” Your voice was an unusual pitch. All high and excited. You were nearly at the door when you stopped, remembering what you wanted to tell Hoseok before you’d gotten distracted. You turned back. “Thank you again, Hobi.” 

He groaned. “Quit thanking me. I just gave you my opinion. You’re the one who made the decision.” 

You nodded, smiling softly. You were a broken record by now. “I don’t think I’ll be coming home tonight so don’t wait up.” 

“Ew.” He wrinkled his nose, feigning disgust. “Get out of here!” 

You laughed and opened the door to leave. Yeah, you were big style getting laid tonight. “Have fun with the guys!” You called, managing to get a grunt in reply. 

Living with three males was interesting, to say the least. Definitely not how you imagined seeing in your thirties. But when life hands you lemons, you make lemonade. Life had dealt you a lot of lemons (Read: blows. Lemons = blows) these past twelve months. The breakdown of your eight year relationship had resulted in you moving out of the home you shared. Living with your best friend Joy had been fine at first, but it was always a temporary thing in your mind. That’s how you found yourself here, in loft 4a, living with three guys. Your mother had always told you not to trust an ad on Craigslist, but she lived 100 miles away. What she didn’t know wouldn’t harm her. 

There was Hoseok, of course, who you were closest with. It didn’t make any sense, most of the time you were like chalk and cheese. He was hard to read, kind of judge-y on a bad day, but somehow he got you the most. Maybe it was because just before you’d moved in he’d gone through his own similar breakup. Another long term relationship with a woman you’d meant once when she was picking up some of the things she’d left at the loft. You hadn’t known him well back then, but now you did, and you’d seen first-hand what the separation had done to him. It made him insecure. In himself, in his capabilities and in his job. He worked in a bar down the road, had for a few years after he dropped out of law school, and even though he’d never said it outright, you think that was the parting dig Minah, the ex, had left him with when she’d walked out. But despite that, Hoseok could be fun and easy to be around. That’s why you liked him the most. Because he’d always made you feel comfortable. Right from the beginning. 

Next, there was Yoongi. A radio host for the local station in your area. You might think he was aloof if you didn’t know him any better, but the guy was very much similar to a cat. Slight in his affection but that just made it all the more sincere. You’d never forget the time he’d kicked out this lame-o you’d thought you were exclusively dating, when in fact it turned out he was seeing three other girls too. Yoongi found you in tears in the living room, jerkface trying to apologise for the misunderstanding. He was out on his ass in under five seconds. From that night on you knew to call him a friend, much to his chagrin. He was a big softy really, and very loyal. That’s why Joy had fallen for him pretty early on. One introduction, a few weeks later and Bam! They were an item. There went her vow to never date a guy shorter than her. Plus, Yoongi was very smug about dating a model. Thought all his Christmas’ had come at once. But yeah, they were very much in love now. Pretty sickening really…

And last but not least, there was Namjoon. He was the brains of the group. The only one with a master’s degree, and the only one with a “proper” job. A high school science teacher. Well, technically you were a teacher too, but it wasn’t particularly the same when you taught a bunch of adults creative writing. Namjoon was the sensible one. The one who kept the lid on everyone’s antics when they were in fear of getting out of control. Although boy could be erratic when he wanted to be. More often now that the woman he’d been dating on and off for six months had finally ended things. Heartbroken Namjoon was not fun. Nor was the depressing music he played at 2am in the morning. But you were there for him because you loved him. You, Hoseok and Yoongi. 

3 guys, one girl. Best friends until the end, living in loft 4a. 

Ew. It could be a sitcom. 

“I don’t understand why you had to meet me outside,” Hoseok said to you. “I work here, it’s not like this place is new to me.” 

You hummed, not really wanting to answer him, but also severely distracted. It was a good few weeks later now, winter was pretty much over, life had long and resumed after  Christmas. In fact, it was the middle of February and today was Hoseok’s birthday. The last but one of you to turn the dreaded three-oh. You were pretty nervous right now, inside the bar a whole bunch of people ready to celebrate. Hoseok thought it was just you, the guys and Joy joining him for a few drinks… There was minor detail you’d left out and ignored: Hoseok hated surprises.  

Walking through the bar entrance first, leading the way for obvious reasons, you were met with darkness. Hoseok stopped dead behind you, and you heard him mutter oh, god, aghast. Your stomach dropped out of your ass but you flicked on the lights, yelling SURPRISE! with the rest of the partygoers filling the dingy room. 

“Happy 30th birthday, Hobi!” You exclaimed, hugging into him slightly. You pulled back, a grin on your face, eyes wide as you tried to gauge his reaction. He wouldn’t make a scene, surely? You watched with slight dread as he tried to stretch one across his face too. His eyes were piercing though. Piercing into you with complete and utter disbelief. You then watched as he turned his head and addressed his guests. “Thanks, guys. What a lovely surprise…”

Frick. He was definitely using his fake voice. 

.

.

“What is this?” Hoseok hissed at you. He’d finally been able to corner you an hour in, and you stood huddled together by the restrooms. “I told you I didn’t want a big deal. You said it was just going to be a few lowkey drinks at the bar!” 

“It is,” you insisted, before muttering that next part. “Just with an added 20 more people…” 

“I don’t even know half of them!” He looked around the room, and you joined him. 

Okay, you had to admit, after the first five people you’d added to the list it was pretty hard to think of more. In the end you’d had to improvise. Invite acquaintances or just even friends of a friend… You wouldn’t admit that though. “Sure you do,” you shrugged. “There’s Yoongi and Joy.” 

“She’s your best friend.” 

“There’s Namjoon.” 

“They don’t count.” He frustrated. “They were supposed to be here! It was just supposed to be them!” 

“There’s Mrs. Choi from our building–”

“You invited a 60 year old lady to my birthday?” 

She had a soft spot for him. Of course she should be here. “There’s Brian, your-your boss…” You admit by now you were struggling. 

“He’s just here because he works every night.” 

“There’s…” You glanced around again, desperate to see a familiar face of Hoseok’s. Finally, you found someone. “THERE’S NARA!” You shouted pretty loudly, excitement taking over. She drunk at the bar a few nights a week. Hoseok had become a little enamoured. 

He jerked his head in her direction. She was sat in a booth with Yoongi, Joy and Namjoon. The latter chatting away with her. “Oh, my god. You invited Nara?!” 

“Of course I did. You like her.” 

“No, I don’t.” He was quick to refute. “I don’t like her. How do you know I like her?” He was also quick to give in. 

“You find a way to bring her into conversation every single time. Ask Yoongi.” 

He sighed dramatically, rubbing his his temples. “Well, that’s just great. Now she knows I’m 30. She knows I’m old!” 

“Shut up,” you scoffed. “She’s close to 30 too.” 

His head shot up. “You know her age?” 

“Yes. I know a lot about her.” You smirked, feeling powerful. “In the five minute conversation we had while I was inviting her, I found out way more than you have in the past three weeks you’ve been into her.” 

“I like to take my time.” He fumed. You were close to bickering, you could feel it. Hoseok said you were a butt-er in-er. You took control of things that weren’t your job. This was probably a classic example. However, this time around he relented. He wanted in on this info. He lowered his voice, leaning in. “What did you find out?” 

You shrugged, pretty nonchalant. If it wasn’t his birthday you’d make him pay you ten bucks for the facts. “Her surname. Her age. Where she was born. She prefers cats over dogs. LOVE that,” you exclaimed. Hoseok rolled his eyes, speeding you up with hand motions. “She’s only had one serious relationship in her life. Kinda like me. Although, who knows now that me and Seokjin are an item.” 

You found yourself easily on a tangent. Your relationship with Seokjin the biggest distraction in your life right now. Things were going amazing. Just over six weeks in and you were finding that domestic bliss you and your ex never had. 

“I don’t care about your life. I care about mine.” Hoseok rudely interrupted. “What else did you find out?” 

You glared at him but replied. “Not a lot after that. Bottom line is I love her. We’re a lot alike actually.” 

“No, you are not,” he insisted, a little bit of nausea in his face. You knew better than to get offended. “Hey, how did you find this all out in five minutes?” 

You tipped your shoulders. “People feel comfortable around me. They can open up, y’know?” 

He grunted in response, before his eyes widened in horror, thinking of something. “You didn’t tell her I like her, did you?”

“No,” you scoffed. “What do you take me for? An idiot?” The look he gave you was a yes. You rolled your eyes and grabbed him by the shoulders. “You’re going to tell her. Tonight. That’s why I invited her.” 

He swallowed, now looking scared. Talking to girls was never his forte. The last “relationship” he’d had since the big breakup had lasted four weeks. He had a lot to learn. You tapped his back encouragingly and he gave you a tight nod. Damn, maybe he really was about to get his flirty flirt on with this woman. You smiled at him and he looked around the bar one last time, shaking his head with a chuckle as he realised something. “God. You threw me a party at the bar I work at.” 

When would you ever win?! 

.

.

An hour later you were making your way back to the apartment. Hoseok in tow. You wanted to convince yourself it was because you could see the party wasn’t his style at all. You mean, you could see that, but the real reason you were in the elevator right now was because you’d been hit with another, even better idea. In fact, you wished you’d just thought of this first. 

“They’ll be fine back there. They won’t miss you,” you tried to reassure Hoseok, stepping out into the hallway. 

“Gee. That makes me feel so amazing on my birthday. Thank you.” Sarcasm all day, everyday. You didn’t deserve it. “Thank you for gathering a bunch of strangers to celebrate that I am one step closer to death.” 

See? It hadn’t been that hard to get him outside and convince him to walk you home because you were feeling a little lightheaded. It was like taking candy from he baby. Hoseok was dumb. 

“What happened to you?” You glared his way. “The guys always tell me you were so full of life before I moved in.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “I think you’ve answered the question yourself there.” 

You tutted, letting it go over his head. “Thirty is not bad, at all. I turned it a few months ago and I’ve just felt amazing ever since.” 

“You cried all day.” 

Goddamnit. “They were happy tears. Now,” you changed the subject, because yes, he was calling you out, but also he was pulling out his key, about to let himself in. You pushed him to the side, grabbing yours from your purse. “Just let me go do it,” you announced loudly. Almost like you wanted someone to hear you. “Just getting my key. Pushing it in the lock.” You continued the description. “Arriving home!” 

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” He was bound to be suspicious. You weren’t exactly being discreet. 

“Nothing.” You shook your head, now pushing the door open. 

“Nothing? I—

“SURPRISE!” 

Hoseok didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, door swinging open to reveal the guys. Namjoon pushed forward to slip a ’30 Years Old’ banner over his head, and he had the audacity to glare at you. 

“I specifically said don’t make this birthday a big deal and instead you throw me TWO surprise parties in the span of a couple hours.” He was in disbelief. “Don’t you listen to a word I say?!” 

“This is a better one though.” You whined. “The one I originally should’ve planned. It’s just friends.” 

“Hi again,” a little voice sounded from behind Namjoon. 

“And Nara.” You grinned, watching Hoseok’s face light up a little. “See Nara came. I invited Nara.” Success. Namjoon had followed instructions. Get the woman into the apartment. 

Hoseok finally smiled at you, stepping inside the loft. “Nara came! Hi, Nara!”  You’d take that as his seal of approval then. This place was much better for getting to know her. He’d failed miserably at the bar, you wouldn’t allow it here. You were going to play matchmaker tonight. 

“Baby!” 

The sound of Seokjin’s voice in the hall distracted you, and you shrieked a little when you saw him walking towards you, dressed in all black. “Yay, Seokjin! You made it.” He hugged you straight away, landing a kiss on your lips. 

“We managed to get someone else in for the night. I escaped.” He cheered, still holding your waist as he turned his head towards Hoseok. “Happy Birthday, man.” 

“Thanks, Jin,” he smiled, before shooting a misplaced compliment. “You’re looking very handsome. As always.” 

You rolled your eyes, laughing a little as Seokjin pulled a confused face at you. “Ignore him, he’s already a little buzzed.” You still didn’t understand Hoseok’s obsession with your boyfriend’s looks. But the guy wasn’t wrong, Seokjin did indeed look very handsome tonight. As always. 

You glanced around the room, Yoongi and Joy had managed to put up some balloons and a banner in record time after you’d frantically text them the plan half an hour ago. Alcohol stood on the dining table, a few snacks in bowls. Definitely Joy’s doing. You clapped your hands. “Music please! Let’s get this party started!” 

The room erupted into cheers. 

.

.

“Okay, I have an idea,” you yelled into the room. It was over an hour in now. This party was popping, much better than the one happening in bar you bet. You were drunk. Not wasted or anything, but definitely merry. “Let’s play spin the bottle!” 

You’d already played Pass the Balloon, thinking of games from when you were a teenager in desperation as you tried to hook Hoseok and Nara up. The balloon one was going well until Namjoon and her had found themselves in some difficulty. Then it was just a wasted ten minutes as you watched them fail to give in. At least Joon was having fun though, it had been a while since you’d seen him have fun, let alone laugh. 

“We’re not in high school,” Hoseok grumbled from beside you.

Nara piped up from the kitchen. “I think’ll be fun.” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Cool.” Hoseok soon changed his tune. “I think it’ll be fun too. Cool.” 

“Great!” You took the bottle Seokjin had been drinking from and swigged the last bit much to his amusement. You hadn’t told him what you were up to yet, but he was going along with your crazy ideas anyway. He always watched you with fondness, which was sweet considering he also called you the wackiest person he knew. 

“Everyone, get in a circle and sit!” You ordered. They listened. You grabbed Hoseok just before he took off. “You, come here.” Dragging him out into the hall that lead to your bedrooms you tried your best to whisper. “Sit next to Nara.” 

“Huh?” 

God. Was he dumb? “I’m helping you here. Setting you up.” 

“I don’t need you to,” he exasperated. “I got this.” 

You knew for a fact he didn’t “got this”. “It’ll be your turn first, birthday boy n’ all.” You carried on like you hadn’t heard him. “Spin it ever so slightly.” 

“That’s so obvious.” 

“You want to make it obvious.” 

He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine.” 

You smiled in triumph, grabbing him by the arm. “Remember: ever so slightly!” And with that you dragged him towards the circle. You were pretty feisty when you needed to be. 

“It’s Hobi’s turn first because he’s the birthday boy,” you told everyone as you pushed him down between Nara and Joy. You sat to Nara’s left; convenient to keep an eye on everything, plus you were next to Seokjin too.   

“It’s so cute how you call him Hobi,” Nara commented, leaning into you with a smile. 

“Oh, really?” You were a little caught off guard. “Everyone calls him that. No big deal.” You tried to think if that was true… You must’ve heard it from somewhere else why would you have started calling him that…?

“Are there rules?” Joy asked. 

“Yes! Rules!” You suddenly realised. You racked your brains. Hoseok and Nara couldn’t kiss in front of everyone. That would just be odd. Hm, maybe this was too obvious. “Whoever the bottle lands on, that’s who you kiss! But there’s a twist. It has to be in my closet.” 

“You got cameras in there or something?” Namjoon piped up, Nara laughed loudly. 

“No,” you said slowly. “Because it’s the biggest. You can’t come out until the deed is done.” 

“Isn’t that like seven minutes in heaven?” Yoongi asked. 

“Yoongi, just shut up and listen.” Why couldn’t people just be excited? You were trying to hook up their friend! “It’s not like that because I don’t want people having sex in my closet.” You nudged Nara and giggled. She slowly laughed back, a little confused. You caught Hoseok shooting you a look but ignored him.

“Kissing only,” you continued. “And we need photographic evidence.”

“What?” Hoseok sounded like he was about to run off any moment. 

“Just a quick pic,” you shrugged. If truth be told, you wanted Hoseok to have the memory of when you set him up with the girl of his dreams forever. That way he could always thank you. 

“Is the guy to girl ratio a little skewed?” Yoongi pointed out. “I’m not kissing Joon.” 

You ignored him. “TONGUES.” You shouted instead, clapping your hands. “Almost forgot to specify: tongues!” 

“I’m not tonguing anyone bar my girlfriend.” Yoongi was adamant. 

“Whatever.” You sighed. Didn’t he realise this wasn’t about him? You didn’t care who he tongued or didn’t tongue. It was about who Hoseok tongued! 

You stretched over and handed the bottle to him. “Hoseok, spin.” You were careful not to use your, no, the, nickname. There was nothing cute about it. 

“Okay. Kinda nervous.” He was practically shouting. If this was his way of trying to sound casual, he was failing. “Don’t want to mess it up.” Thinking about it, this was a very stupid idea. He was about to spin a bottle four inches to the left. You watched feeling a little sick. 

The sick feeling turned to one of horror in a nanosecond. You watched in slow motion as the bottle passed Nara. It wasn’t four inches, it was eight. He’d landed on you. 

“No.” Hoseok spoke into the room. The denial was strong. “No. No. Nope. No.” 

You could hear the room cheering. Yoongi laughing, saying something about how amazing this was. The game had backfired on you. But in truth you weren’t really listening, too busy having a minor breakdown. 

You looked at a Hoseok. “No.” He said it back. You looked around at everyone else, eyes wide. In denial and begging for someone to say you didn’t have to do it. “No. No. HA,” you forced a laugh. “I have a boyfriend. I can’t kiss anyone else.” 

“If you were going to make me kiss Joon, you’re kissing Hoseok.” 

“Baby, it’s just a game,” Seokjin chuckled, hooking his arm around your shoulders. “It’s fine.” 

“No.” You were adamant. “I would call that cheating. Wouldn’t you?” 

“I would.” Hoseok piped up. At least someone was on your side. No one listened to him. 

“Relax.” Seokjin rubbed the back of your neck. “Come here.” He dipped his head, capturing your mouth in a soft kiss before pulling away and winking. “That’s to remember me. Now get on in there!” 

The guy physically hauled you up. You perfect boyfriend had no problem with this. Damn him. Damn him for being so reasonable and laid back. Yoongi made a beeline for Hoseok. The glee on his face was pretty frightening. 

“To the closest! To the closet! To the closet!” The chanting wasn’t necessary, but it happened any way. Frog marched into your bedroom and pushed into the closet. Surrounded in pitch black before you reached for the light switch. 

“You overshot it,” you hissed. 

“I was under pressure!” Yelling in whispers was hard. “You do not know how stressful it was!” 

You groaned, rubbing your hands all over your face. “Don’t do that you look like The Scream.” Hoseok commented.

You shot him a look before stomping your feet and pointing a finger at him. “I can’t believe this. You were supposed to be in here with Nara!” 

“Why the hell did you sit next to her?” 

“I don’t know. To keep an eye on you!” In hindsight it was a very bad idea, but what would have happened if you hadn’t? Hoseok would be in here with Seokjin? That was even more weird! 

“You guys kissing yet?” Yoongi asked through the door. You could almost see his Lenny face. 

“Oh, god,” Hoseok muttered. He sounded faint. 

“Yeah. We did it!” You yelled back. You were getting you both out of here. “Was super wet. Hoseok has a freakishly long tongue. Yuck.” 

“Hey. No, I don’t.” 

“Send the pic. Did you take a pic?” Yoongi sounded way too excited. 

Shit. The stupid picture?! Why did you even come up with that rule… “Oh, would you look at that. I didn’t hit the button. Oh well, doesn’t matter,” you shrugged, moving to turn the door handle. It didn’t budge. Almost like someone was holding it shut. “Hey, let us out!!” You yelled. 

“No evidence, no escaping.” That was Namjoon. He sounded overly amused. 

“Namjoon!” You shrieked in surprise. You twisted and tugged on the handle, hoping you he would relent, give up so you could get the hell out of here. “Let us out. Let us out! I’m claustrophobic!”

“Kiss and take the pic!” Joy shouted. 

Joy?! That was it! Friendship over. Come to think of it, where was Seokjin? Maybe you could appeal to him. He’d give in surely. You were about to open your mouth when fresh chanting started. “KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!” It was so loud you swear you’d wake up with a noise compliant. But more importantly, you could hear Seokjin’s voice along with the rest. Goddamnit. You were really going to have to kiss Hoseok. 

You turned back to him, defeat on your face. He’d been oddly quiet since you’d tried escaping. “Let’s just do it,” he shrugged. 

“What?” You mean, you’d been planning on saying the same thing, but you’d thought it would take some cajoling. 

“Get your phone out. Let’s just get it over with,” he told you. “You want to get out of here, right?” 

“Okay.” You nodded, telling yourself it would be fine. “Yeah, we’ll just kiss. It’s no biggie.” 

“Nope, no biggie.” He stepped closer. You were suddenly sweating. It was really hot in here and you swear the floor was shaking because of how rowdy they were being outside. 

“Hey, remember when I saw your boob that one time?” Hoseok laughed. “It popped right out of your towel when you were talking to me as I brushed my teeth.” He made a popping sound to emphasise, his hand flopping from his chest in an unnecessary reenactment

That had actually been particularly mortifying for you. Especially seeing as it was only a month into living with the guys and you’d just flashed a boob accidentally. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

He looked at you, releasing his mistake. “It doesn’t. Just if I’ve seen your boob, I can kiss you.” There was no correlation at all. You wanted to point that out but now he was a few inches from your face. You were going crosseyed trying to look at him. “Okay, let’s do this,” he murmured. 

“Ew. What did you just do?” You startled, stepping back. 

“Huh?” 

“You licked your lips.” He’d licked his lips and moved forward. He was about to put his wet ones on your normal ones. 

“Of course I did. Do you want dry lips?” 

“Yes! I want dry lips,” you insisted. 

He pulled a face, more than puzzled. “These things can get pretty chapped, but ok.” Before you could say anything else he had his hands on your face, lunging closer with his eyes closed. 

“No. No.” You ducked from his grip, darting to the other side of the closet. Had it always been that small in here? You used to think it was massive. 

Hoseok sighed. “What now?” 

“You cupped my face. You did this thing with your eyes.” 

“What, closed them?!” 

“Don’t kiss me with your eyes closed.” 

“So you want to be staring at each other the whole time?” He thought you were crazy. Could tell by the tone of his voice. He exhaled, voice calmer when he spoke again. “You don’t want to kiss me, do you?” 

“Of course I don’t. It’s weird as hell.” You caught the look on his face. “Oh, come on. You cannot be offended. Does the idea of kissing me not gross you out?” 

“No, it doesn’t gross me out. That’s a bit drastic.” 

God, he was not guilt tripping you right now. It worked anyway. “Fine! Let’s kiss.” He looked startled, probably feeling dizzy by your back and forth. “C’mon. Kiss me, Jung.” He didn’t budge. You started chanting. It was the only way. “Kiss me! Kiss me! Kiss me!” 

“Ok, okay.” He yelled over you. “Shut the hell up.” You continued. You always did like pissing him off. 

In a split second he was in front of you. “Come here.” His cupped your face again and you instantly shut up. Your eyes were locked on his, and in this pretty dismal lighting he looked beautiful. It made your insides feel funny. For a moment there you caught yourself puckering. You caught yourself actually wanting to kiss him, and then in the blink of an eye it was gone. Almost like it never happened. He murmured your name and pulled away, shaking his head 

“What?” 

“I can’t do this,” he admitted. “It’s too weird.” 

“Ha! See!” You were triumphant. “It is weird!” 

He shook his head again, chuckling quietly. “No, I mean… This is not how it’s supposed to go.” 

“What?” There was silence. He didn’t try to elaborate. “Supposed to go?” No matter how much you tried to make sense of that, nothing worked. “How’s it supposed to go, Hoseok?” 

“Forget it. I didn’t say anything,” he tried to backtrack. “It came out wrong.” 

“Hoseok.” He didn’t tell you. He just stared at you, unable or unwilling. “Hobi—p”

“You guys win.” You were interrupted as the door burst open, Yoongi grumbling like a giant baby. 

You blinked rapidly, not used to the bright lights. Everything felt a little weird, like you’d been in that closest for years. You walked out first, not looking behind you. You felt a little shaken up. You couldn’t explain why. 

Seokjin wrapped his arms around your shoulders and laughed. “We were sick of waiting.” He smelt of beer and his eyes were unfocused. You hadn’t realised before but he was drunk. Way more than you were. 

“Get back in the circle,” Namjoon ordered, leading the way. God, this game was still going to continue? You’d all be here until tomorrow morning. “You guys are spoilsports.” 

“What’s a little kissing among friends?” Yoongi piped up, which was rich coming from him. “Okay, Nara’s turn,” he said once everyone had gotten back into place. She took the bottle eagerly. “Spin it, girl!” 

You all watched it go. You totally forgot to pray it landed on Hoseok until it was too late. The room erupted into cheers and wolf whistles as it stopped and your heart sunk. 

“NAMJOON!!” Yoongi yelled. “Get it, Kim!” 

You shot Hoseok an apologetic look. 

.

.

“Hey.” You said, stopping by the sofa where Hoseok sat. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

It was a fewhours later, the party was over and you were in your pyjamas ready for bed. Seokjin was already tucked up on his side and you’d just gone to get a glass of water. You didn’t want a headache in the morning. You were surprised to see Hoseok still awake and in the living room. 

He shook his head, laughing a little. “It’s fine. I actually kinda enjoyed it in a strange way.” 

“You did?” 

“Yup. What better way to see 30 in. Trapped in a closet with you.” 

You laughed at his silliness, making your way over to the sink to fill up your glass. You gulped the water down, thinking to yourself. You didn’t care if he was just trying to make you feel better. You were still relieved he hadn’t totally hated it. There were worse people to be stuck in a closet with. You hoped. 

As you placed the now empty glass down a faint banging appeared. Like something hitting against a wall. It got louder and then slowed away. “What’s that?” You asked Hoseok, turning around and genuinely puzzled. 

“Oh, that,” Hoseok chuckled. “That’s Namjoon and Nara. He’s giving it to her good. Real good.” 

Your mouth dropped open, just as the banging re-emerged. Yes, it was definitely coming from his room. His headboard. Then the guilt kicked in. “Oh my god. Hobi, I’m so sorry.” How had this happened? How had you not seen the signs? It was pretty obvious now, thinking back, Nara had been totally into Namjoon. All that hushed talking, giggling and touching. The game of spin the bottle. That girl had rigged her own spin for it to land on him. Only she’d been a good shot. Hoseok on the other hand… 

Hoseok raised his hand, brushing your apologies away. “He asked for permission. He needs this.” Maybe so. This was the first woman Joon had shown an interest in after Sookie. Hoseok was too understanding.  “Besides, I oddly don’t care.” 

Or maybe not. 

“You don’t?” You instantly kicked yourself for prying. Prying and being nosey had been the downfall of this night. Yet here you were itching for more info. 

“Yeah, I just…” He trailed off and shrugged. “Maybe I don’t like Nara that much. It was just a stupid crush. No big deal.” 

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to ask what made him change his mind so suddenly? Made him realise? But that seemed inappropriate. You nodded instead, letting him know you got it, and turned to leave. “Goodnight.” 

“Wait,” he called. “Hold up.” He jumped up and you turned to face him again, waiting like he’d asked. “I want to say sorry too. I made that weird. The game.”

“Oh.” The closet. The awkwardness had slowly disappeared through the night and now you had a sickly feeling it was about to come back. If the look on his face was anything to go by. 

“What I meant was,” he was talking slow, a little stunted. “If I was ever going to kiss you, it wouldn’t be like that. Because of some stupid game.” 

His words took a moment to process. Perhaps you had another hundred questions to ask but they seemed impossible. You should just take what he said and accept it. The game was over and you’d never play it again. You’d never get in a closet with him again. You felt strange, but you didn’t admit that. Instead you smiled. “Okay.” 

That feeling was creeping back. The one from the closet, when he’d been holding your face and staring into your eyes. The one where he’d looked so good under that weird yellow light. Hoseok was handsome, you’d always thought so, but in a way where you’d never actually thought of it, if that made sense… In that closet, you’d thought it. 

“Come on, I’ll walk with you,” he told you, interrupting the butterflies in your stomach. You walked side by side, down the corridor. Your rooms were directly opposite one another. Had you pointed that out before?  

You stopped when he did, forcing yourself to say something. It was just Hoseok. You talked to him all the time. You yelled at him all the time. And laughed, and fooled around. He was your friend. “I promise I’ll make next year’s birthday better.” 

He smiled gently, head tilted, voice soft. “You don’t have to promise me anything. Night.” 

“Goodnight, Hobi.” 

You made to turn, hand nearly on the door handle, but then he pulled you back. One hand reaching for yours, the other curling around your waist. Your mouths met in such a rush you didn’t realise until you felt the warmth of his tongue. It was passionate and eager. The kind of kiss you see in the movies, where no one comes up for air, where their bodies move on their own accord. 

There were no thoughts, just feelings. The feeling of how good this was, and how much it took your breath away. The feeling of his lips on yours and how you should’ve been feeling them a long time ago. The feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist, clutching you tight, and yours around his shoulders, holding him close. 

When you finally pulled away, no choice but to, you were trembling. Boneless. Hs breath fanned across your face and you were sad. You wanted more. You wanted to kiss him all night. Slowly, more deliberately, you pushed your lips against his, savouring the feel. He kissed you back just as softly before breaking away for good. 

“That’s how it would go,” he murmured. He was breathing heavily. “How I imagined it to be.”

And that he was gone. To his room, door shut. 

You stood there dazed, lips tingling and you brought your fingers out to touch them. There was silence all around you, and slowly, the haze began to lift. In its wake brought panic and guilt. Seokjin. Your boyfriend was asleep just behind the door.

What had you done? 

You got hardly any sleep. Your brain wouldn’t switch off. The guilt twisting your gut, even more so when you kept thinking of the kiss and how good it was, and how short lived it was. Seokjin centimetres away from you, clueless. You rose early. Everyone else was still asleep, the loft silent. Still in your pyjamas you poured yourself some cereal and sat on at the counter, munching away sombrely. 

Hoseok was the first to wake up. Of course. You should’ve just stayed inside your room, but you couldn’t bear to be near Seokjin. He strolled into the living room casually, making his way to the kitchen. You tried to ignore the way your stomach flipped because you didn’t know what it meant. Were you angry, panicked, something else? 

“Good morning.” He greeted casually. 

Angry. You were angry. It rushed up your body. How dare he be so casual. As if nothing had happened. “Seriously? Good morning?” You retorted. He was making himself a coffee. “What’s good about it, Hoseok? You kissed me last night!” 

He gave a little shrug. “I know I did.” 

You were flabbergasted by his gall. Had to force yourself to continue. “Well,” you stared at him. “Aren’t you going to explain yourself?” 

“I already did.” He spoke simply. “I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to show you how I would kiss you.” 

Nope. You weren’t feeling guilty over this any longer. Not when he was acting so unfazed. He was the one who had kissed you. This was his doing. And he didn’t care at all. “To what? Prove a point?” You demanded. 

He scoffed, dropping a teaspoon into the sink. “No, not to prove a point.” He turned to face you, back leaning against the counter. “I wanted to kiss you.” 

Your mind was beginning to reel. “I have a BOYFRIEND,” you said slowly, unable to keep a lid on your anger. “Who I had to sleep next to last night.” 

Right on cue, Seokjin came from around the corner, still half asleep and rubbing his eyes. You froze, feeling instantly sick. You hope he hadn’t heard anything. 

He hadn’t. He smiled when he saw you both, making his way over. “Morning, guys.” 

“Seokjin, hey,” you breathed, feeling a little trembly. You pushed your bowl away, not hungry now. You caught Hoseok’s eyes. 

“Morning,” he nodded, turning to look at Seokjin but averting his gaze. 

Seokjin leant down and kissed your cheek, rubbing your shoulder. “Did you sleep at all last night? You were tossing and turning like crazy.” 

You felt yourself panicking. You needed to cool it. “Ah, I think I was still pumped from the party.” You laughed lightly. 

Seokjin joined in. “You guys sure do know how to have fun. I think I’ve drunk more in these past two months than I have in my entire life.” You heard Hoseok gave the lamest laugh back. It sounded more like a scoff and you shot him a look.  

“Hey, wanna go to the zoo today?” Seokjin suggested. You’d been on about going for weeks now just hadn’t gotten around to it. “I’m not due at the hospital until tonight.” 

You forced yourself to smile. Hoped it seemed natural. “I’d love to.” 

“Perfect,” he grinned, reaching to kiss your lips. They twinged, and you remembered the feeling of Hoseok’s mouth. You were also very aware he was a witness to all this. You pulled back quickly. “Wanna shower first?” Seokjin asked. 

“No, it’s okay. You go.” 

You couldn’t bear them to be alone together. Hoseok was acting weird, you didn’t trust him not to tell Seokjin. As it would have it though, by the time you looked across at the counter, Hoseok was gone, already walking off back to his room. 

.

.

“What’s wrong?” You asked Seokjin as you made your way into your room. You’d showered straight after him. Gotten dressed in the bathroom because you did not fancy bumping into Hoseok wrapped in a towel. Even though you had many a time. 

Seokjin looked a little sad, you could tell by his face straight away something was up, and  delayed, you felt dread begin prick at your spine. What if Hoseok had told him? 

“Bad news. They need me at the hospital.” He sounded guilty that he had to let you down. 

While you felt instant relief. He didn’t know about the kiss and your guilty conscious was happy you wouldn’t have to spend all day together. You felt terrible at the realisation. Maybe you should just tell him what happened. But… not like this. Not today. You were a serial put-er off-er.

“That’s okay, it can’t be helped,” you told him, making your way over to the bed where he sat perched on. You rubbed his shoulder. You both liked doing that to one another. Thinking that made you sad. “I feel bad for you though. You haven’t had a proper day off in weeks.” 

It was true, Seokjin worked harder than any person you’d met before. You didn’t know how he did it. More sadness filled you. You couldn’t explain why. This time it wasn’t the guilt over the kiss, but something else. Everything had changed. 

“You’re cute,” he smiled. “I’ll be fine. Always am.” Those words stuck with you. “I’m sad we can’t go to the zoo. Rain check?” 

“Rain check,” you nodded, smiling slightly. 

“What will you do instead today?” He asked, before chuckling. “Hoseok’s here all day. Keep him company.” 

Your eyes widened. “You’ve been talking to Hob–Hoseok?” Damn that nickname. He didn’t deserve to be called Hobi. 

“Yeah, while you were in the shower.” 

Change the subject. “I think I may hang out with Joy.” It was the weekend after all, and Yoongi had work this afternoon and then he was going out for drinks with some coworkers. Joy would be free. “We can have a girly day. I could stay over maybe.” You were babbling. Trying to make this believable even though it wasn’t a lie. “Face masks, pillow fights, all that sleepover stuff.” 

Seokjin looked at you funny and laughed affectionately. “You’re really trying to relive your high school years, aren’t you? You’re cute,” he repeated. He always called you cute. He wrapped his arms around you waist, pulling you a little closer. “—and weird. That’s why I like you.” 

Yes. Sometimes you did think you were a little bit “too much” for Seokjin, but he always seemed so endeared by you. Usually this kind of talk made you happy, but you felt strange inside. Like everything was slowly dying. Seokjin kissed you, it didn’t bring you back to life.    “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Promise I’ll be free.” 

You forced yourself to smile. Any more and your lips would start aching. “Can’t wait.” 

He rubbed his nose against yours, voice low. “You can come over. Maybe we can play seven minutes in heaven…” 

You giggled, but in your mind you couldn’t stop thinking about your kiss with Hoseok. 

.

.

“Hoseok kissed me last night.” 

It was a few hours later, not even twenty four after the kiss, and you were finally telling someone about it. You weren’t built to keep secrets. Joy knew that. She knew you the best out of anyone. She’d been your best friend for over twenty years. That’s why it was her you told. Curled up on her sofa you blurted it out. No lead up, no ‘Hey, can I tell you something?’ Just straight out with it. 

She turned her attention away from the television, a look of confusion spread all over her face. “During the game or?” 

You breathed out. “After. Once everyone had gone home.” 

Her eyes widened, but she spoke slowly, as if she was trying really hard to understand. “I’m confused. Was it a drunk thing?” 

“I don’t know why he did it,” you admitted. If you had a solid answer maybe you could get your head around it more. “He said he wanted to show me how our first kiss would go.” 

“Hold up.” Now Joy had come to life. Still in shock, but needing explanations. “He imagined a first kiss? Does he like you?” 

“No,” you exclaimed, pulling a disgusted face. “It’s Hoseok. Me and Hoseok.” 

“Do you like him?” 

Was she crazy? “No.” But that sounded too mean. “Yes. I mean, of course I like him, he’s my friend.”

“Christ. He kissed you,” she muttered, shaking her head a little in disbelief. 

“I kissed him back.” Had you left out that minor detail? It was all very well saying Hoseok kissed you, but you’d let him, and you’d kissed him back just as hard. The memory had your insides feeling funny again. 

Joy looked a little in stunned. You didn’t blame her. You and Hoseok kissing? His mouth on yours, his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth… You needed a cold shower. Where was your guilt now?! 

“What was it like?” She asked hesitantly. Curious. 

“Really good.” You couldn’t lie. And you couldn’t keep the truth in. You just needed to be honest with yourself. “I’m so confused. Joy, I cant stop thinking about it. I’m so mad at him but it was just so… It was just so��hot. But out of this world. Like, I saw through time and space, and it was Hoseok doing it!” In what world did that seem realistic? He was your friend! 

“Damn, Hoseok has game.” Joy sounded half impressed. 

You sighed sadly. “I think it was the best kiss of my life but it can’t be because…” There she was. The guilt. She settled in your stomach, heavy and sickly. “Seokjin. I have a boyfriend. One who I’ve liked for the longest time.” 

You remembered how much you wanted to make it work with him while things were still just a hook up and how heartbroken you’d been when he’d told you he couldn’t give you that. How confused and kind of mad you were when he found you again and confessed his feelings and how happy you’d been when you’d given him another chance. When Hoseok had encouraged you to give it a try. Nothing made sense. Everything had changed after one kiss.  

“Are you going to tell him?” Joy asked. 

“I don’t know. I was going to forget the kiss ever happened but I don’t think I can do that,” you admitted. Seokjin deserved the truth, but selfishly, more than that, you couldn’t live like this, so conflicted. It wasn’t black and white. You’d kissed Hoseok back. 

“Just think it through, okay?” She told you gently. “If you tell him it’ll make things awkward. You’re friends with Hoseok. You live with Hoseok.” 

You didn’t think Joy got it. You didn’t think you got it. You couldn’t forget about the kiss. That’s why you had to tell Seokjin. “No, I should tell him.” Your voice was a little shaky. “I kissed Hoseok back. It wouldn’t be fair to blame it all on him. Seokjin needs to know.” 

.

.

You slipped through the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. You turned left, towards your bedroom and began creeping. It was past midnight but you still wanted to go as undetected as possible, praying Namjoon and Hoseok were in their rooms already. 

“Hey.” You winced when you heard Hoseok’s voice, freezing. “I was waiting up for you. Where were you all day?” 

You turned back slowly, trying to make your voice sound as neutral as possible. If truth be told, the last person you wanted to have a conversation with right now was him. “At Joy’s. I was going to stay over but Yoongi got drunk and she had to pick him up.” 

“You were going to stay over because of me?” He asked. You stayed silent and he sighed your name. “Look, I’m really sorry I did this. Made things awkward between us. It’s the last thing I want.” 

Your jaw tightened in anger. Then why the hell had he kissed you? “I don’t feel awkward. Do you feel awkward?” 

“I feel a little awkward.” He admitted, hands in his pockets. You stayed a few feet apart. “You left the house all day to avoid me.” 

“I’m not feeling awkward. I’m feeling…mad.” 

“Mad?” He had the cheek to sound surprised. “At me?” 

“You kissed me when I have a boyfriend.” You explained like you had to. “Did you not think of the consequences?”

He lowered his head, sheepish, yet he still didn’t apologise. “Are you going to tell him?” He asked instead. “Just don’t.” 

“What?” Your voice was low, anger rising. 

Hoseok shrugged. “Just forget it ever happened.” 

“Forget it ever happened?!” You exclaimed. “I can’t.” You shook your head, the memory of the kiss pushing its way back into your head. No. That wasn’t why. “I can’t lie to him. You’re asking me to lie to him?” 

“It’s not lying, it’s just not telling him something happened. He’s oblivious to it anyways.” 

“What the hell?” You couldn’t begin to explain why you felt so frustrated. So offended. “I can’t do this.” You voice shook. You were blowing up. “I was happy before last night. Like really happy, and now everything is ruined because you kissed me!” He stayed silent. You couldn’t read his expression. 

“Like jeez,” you laughed in frustration. “It doesn’t make sense, Hoseok. You were encouraging me to give him another chance and now what, you like me?” You mocked, instantly regretting it by the way his face fell. 

“Is that funny to you?” He scoffed. “Is the possibility I like you so hilarious you feel the need to laugh in my face?” Oh no. “Or are you laughing because it seems so crazy? Impossible?” 

You could feel the dread prickling your skin, but all you could do was watch him in horror. “I like you.” The way he said your name afterwards made something inside of you long. You pushed it away, because otherwise your legs might give way from under you. 

“I like you a lot. Way more than a friend and I don’t know for how long.” 

You couldn’t speak. Just watched him struggle to find the right words himself. “It-It’s just one of those things. You came into my life like a bulldozer and I kept thinking, how had I gone through nearly thirty years of my life not knowing you?” He scoffed. “It sounds stupid, but it’s true. Slowly I just began thinking maybe one day it’ll be our chance. It wasn’t urgent. Just kinda there in my subconscious. Most of the time I didn’t even think about it.” He shrugged. “I was okay with waiting. Okay with watching you date other guys because it wasn’t our turn yet. One day,” he sighed. “One day it would be, and I’d get to kiss you like last night.” 

The kiss was back behind your eyes. The feeling of his lips, the taste of his mouth. The touch of his body. For some reason you were angry. 

“That game messed it all up and I’m sorry for that, but I’m not sorry for kissing you. I won’t apologise for that.” 

“No.” You finally said something. It was final, but your voice shook. “No. You can’t be doing this right now, Hoseok.” You pointed at him, accusing him. “I’m happy. For the first time in a long time I was happy. I like Seokjin. He’s the first guy I’ve really felt something with since Seungwoo. Do you know how important that is?” He should understand that more than anyone, with what happened with Minah. 

“You expect me to throw it all away because one day you see yourself with me? One day?!” You were a goddamn after thought. One of those pacts friends made. If we’re still single at 40 we’ll get married. Was that what you were to him? You blinked away frustrated tears. He was one of your best friends and that’s how he saw you? 

“Oh, please,” he sneered. He sounded hurt, but mad. You’d never seen him angry before. You hated it. You’d bickered many times, but never to this level. “You’re always choosing shitty men.” 

“You’ve known me for a year!” 

“Yeah, and in that time it hasn’t been great,” he scoffed. You thought of the handful of men Hoseok had witnessed you date and cringed. He was judging you. Two could play at that game. Childish or not. 

“Oh, and you have such a great taste in woman. If I remember correctly, one robbed you after you slept with her!” 

“That could’ve happened to anyone!” 

Whatever. “Seokjin is not a shitty man!” He was kind, and sweet, and probably way too good for you. 

“You were his fuck buddy for weeks and when you told him you had feelings for him he ran away only to come back with his tail between his legs. He had his chance and he blew it. You deserve better.” 

“You were the one who told me to go for it!” You exasperated. He wasn’t making sense. He was the one who encouraged you to give Seokjin a second chance. Without Hoseok, you wouldn’t be together right now. 

“I regret that now. What more do you want me to say?” 

Really? You stared at him. “I want you to say you don’t know anything.” 

“I don’t know anything?” 

“Yes, you don’t know anything about anything.” He just said things, did things, without thinking of the consequences. He was thoughtless. “Seokjin might’ve been the one, but now it’s all ruined!” 

“He’s not.” 

Fuck him. He sounded so sure. What did he know? “It’s ruined because of you!” You shouted in frustration. “I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to feel.” All you could remember was the kiss. “I was happy and now I’m not.” 

“Well I’m sorry for making you unhappy,” he sighed. “That’s what I do.” He threw his hands into the air and laughed bitterly. “I’m sorry for thinking me and you could be something great. I’m sorry for not having my life together. Not being rich, or for not being devilishly handsome—which I may add,” he shot, “is freaky. No man should be that beautiful!” 

For god’s sake. What was he trying to do now? Guilt trip you? “What are you going on about? Those are your insecurities. I don’t care about all that stuff.” Was he trying to say you were shallow? 

“Of course you do,” he insisted. “Seokjin has it all. What do I have? Nothing. I’m 30 and work at a bar. I dropped out of law school and forget to shower some days. I don’t own my own home. I live in a loft with two other guys and you.” 

You? Why did he say it like that? For someone who supposedly liked you he wasn’t doing a good job of showing it. From the seems of things he didn’t like you. 

“Do yourself a favour and just don’t tell him. Forget about me and be happy. Fall in love with him, marry him, have tons of super pretty babies.” 

Jaw tight, you sneered. “This is why we wouldn’t work out.” You told him. “You’re childish.” He wasn’t relationship material. He wasn’t what you were looking for. “You’re selfish. You’re mean.” 

He scoffed. “I’m mean?” 

Your bottom lip wobbled, eyes filling up. “Yeah, you really are.” And then you stormed off. Down the hall and into your room. Just in time to hide the tears that slipped down your cheeks. He couldn’t see you cry. He couldn’t see he’d gotten to you. 

He yelled your name, calling you back, sounding regretful, but you didn’t listen and he didn’t follow you. 

The next morning you didn’t see Hoseok at all. He was either in his room when you finally emerged from yours, or he was already at the bar. You were thankful either way. You didn’t think you could handle facing him. You were still so mad, but more than that you were upset. Confused. 

You showered and got ready with a struggle. Forced yourself to go grocery shopping even though you had no appetite for food, and then you just tried to keep yourself distracted. You caught up with some marking that needed to be done by tomorrow, meal prepped for lunches and tried to seem normal around Namjoon who was milling about the loft too. Then Seokjin messaged your asking if you still wanted to hang out this evening. You replied yes with a heavy heart. 

On your way there you’d convinced yourself that you weren’t going to tell him. Yes, you had kissed Hoseok back, but he was the one that had made the move. You could forget about it with time. You could be happy with Seokjin again. Your guilty conscience would go. 

But sitting with him on the sofa, his arm looped around your shoulders and his soft laugh rumbling in your ears every time something funny happened in the movie you were watching, you realised something. The only reason you didn’t want to tell him was because you wanted to spite Hoseok. You were being selfish. The same thing you’d accused Hoseok of last night. 

Seokjin deserved to now, whatever the outcome. For him, for you, for Hoseok… 

“I kissed Hoseok.” 

It didn’t sound like your voice, but you’d said it. 

You felt Seokjin move and you automatically wriggled out from under his arm. He paused the movie, looking back at you with a bemused expression. “You kissed him?” He laughed slightly. “Why didn’t time say? We would’ve left you out sooner.” 

He’d mistaken what you meant. Just like Joy. You closed your eyes softly, sadness filling you. You wanted to say yes, in the game more than anything, just not to hurt him, but that wasn’t the truth. You’d kissed Hoseok off your own back and you’d enjoyed it. “No,” you said softly. “We kissed after the party. Later on when I went to get some water. He kissed me, but I kissed him back.” You didn’t take a moment to pause, needing it all to be out. 

Seokjin was silent as he absorbed the information. Shocked being a given. Finally he said something. “You kissed him while I was in the loft too? In your bed?” 

When he worded it like that you felt sick. You nodded sadly. “I feel terrible, Seokjin. I do. I just couldn’t not tell you. Hoseok said to forget it ever happened but I… It–We…” You fumbled over your words and took a moment to compose yourself. “We argued last night and I’m just… I’m really confused.” 

Two nights ago everything had changed. You’d been in this perfect new relationship. It had promise, it was going somewhere and you were over the moon. Then the kiss had happened and you hadn’t been able to see a future with Seokjin anymore. No matter how small. 

His face was unreadable as he looked at you. You wanted him to get mad. You wanted him to yell at you and tell you how much of a horrible person you were. You deserved it. But that wasn’t his style. Instead he breathed out some kind of little laugh. “There’s no need to be confused. I get it now. You like Hoseok. Of course you do.” 

You were too surprised to even think about refuting him. Of all the things for him to say, you had not been expecting that. “Seeing you guys together,” he carried on. “You always bicker, get on one another’s nerves, but now I see it.” He chuckled. Sadly amused. “It was chemistry. You two just bounce off one another so well. I don’t know, maybe you’re frustrated too, mad you’re not together.” 

You let his words sink in. Trying to think of every interaction you’d had with Hoseok since you met him. It was pretty much an instant connection. You’d always thought so, but did that really mean… You couldn’t let yourself think here. In front of Seokjin, after you’d just confessed to him. But everything was flooding to the forefront of your brain, and it was hard work trying to stop it. There was no point trying to deny it. Not now. 

“I never wanted to hurt you,” you told him instead. Meaning it sincerely. You hadn’t even realised anything yourself. Not even when it was right in front of you. When Hoseok was telling you he liked you. 

He smiled sadly. “Better for it to happen now, right?” 

“I really care about you, Seokjin. These past few weeks have been amazing. Even before, when we were…” You stopped and shook your head. “You’re the best and I’m really sorry.” You truly did mean that. No matter how lame it sounded. 

“You’re a really great girl, remember that,” he told you. “Maybe if I’d figured out my feelings months ago things would be different, but then again,” he shrugged, “maybe you’re just meant to be with him.” 

Meant to be with him. Hoseok. Were you meant to be with Hoseok? 

Seokjin took you hand and squeezed it gently. “I’m done,” he murmured, his eyes kind but firm. “I don’t want to be second best.” 

.

.

You had déjà vu. You were slipping through the door again. This time you didn’t try to creep into your room though. You made your way into the kitchen, needing a glass of water. Just to take some time for yourself, needing to find some clarity. You found it as soon as your eyes landed on Hoseok walking from the direction of the bathroom. Everything fell into place, began to make sense. 

He stopped dead when he saw you, awkward and probably panicked after last night. “Hey,” you said gently. “Where is everyone?” It was strange for the loft to be so quiet on a Sunday night. 

He cleared his throat. “Namjoon has Nara over, Yoongi‘s still over Joy’s place.” He was already beginning to walk away.  “I’ll be out of your way, just going to bed.” 

You opened your mouth to call him back. You had so much to say, but… But was tonight a good time to start? Your head was still whirring. Sadness and guilt over your breakup with Seokjin but you also felt giddy at the sight of Hoseok. You wanted to say sorry for the argument, for all the things you said, and most of all you wanted to tell him that you—

“Aren’t you supposed be staying with Jin tonight?” Hoseok had stopped, turning back with the afterthought. “Namjoon mentioned it.”  

He didn’t need to explain himself. You didn’t care how he knew. You didn’t care about a lot right now. Only one thing. “He broke up with me,” you replied. “I told him about the kiss and now it’s over.” 

Hoseok’s eyes bulged, visibly shocked. “What? Didn’t you tell him it was my fault?” He walked over to you. There was still a distance but it was a start. “No,” he muttered. “Why would he break up with you? It’s not your fault.”

Sweet, caring Hoseok. You smiled at him, the words that left you almost bubbling into a laugh. “It is.” 

He looked mighty confused. He was probably thinking you’d lost it right now. You hadn’t. You’d only just found it. You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “It’s my fault because I like you too.” 

Silence. He looked stunned. It seemed strange to say it out loud but also sort of invigorating. Nothing made sense in this world, bar one thing. Your feelings for him. You laughed, more words now rushing out. “I really like you. And I don’t know for how long. Maybe from the beginning,” you shrugged, “maybe from the kiss. I don’t know.” 

You’d been trying to pinpoint the exact moment on the ride home. Going through each memory you had with him in an attempt to understand when it happened. There was no real answer. It had snuck up on you, wanted you to be oblivious. And you think that was how it was for him too. Why last night had been so confusing. 

You were mad at him because you liked him too. You were mad at him because you thought he didn’t like you enough. He didn’t like you like he thought he liked you. God, you were a mess. Your thoughts weren’t making sense. What were you trying to say?

“I don’t know,” you repeated. “My head’s a mess and I really have a headache right now.” You rubbed your temples and then remembered something. “I also have a flat tyre. I think I drove over a nail on the way here. I don’t know how I’m going to get to work tomorrow morning.” 

“You could borrow my ca—

“Hobi, I don’t care.” You interrupted, laughing again. You felt funny, like you were floating. It felt good to call him that again. “I don’t care about anything right now, except you.” His eyes flashed at that, something changing on his face. He moved forward, closer to you. The counter was the only thing that separated you now. 

“I don’t understand anything and I’m really confused, but I know one thing,” you insisted, finally giving into the urge that had been raging your body for nearly two days. “I really want to kiss you.” You swallowed, tasting the memory of him. “Again. I can’t stop thinking about the kiss. It was the best kiss of my life.” 

He rounded the counter in the blink of an eye. He’d stayed silent for the majority of your confession, except for offering you his car, the idiot. You almost laughed again; why was he so sweet? Yeah, you would’ve laughed if he didn’t look so irresistible right now. So serious, so desperate, so intense. He was breathing heavily, almost panting, eyes blown black. 

“Can I kiss you now?” His voice was rough, broken with desire. 

You parted your mouth to reply. To say yes, to say please, to almost beg, but his lips were already on yours, hands cupping your face. Hungry, needy, eager. He pushed you against the counter your back was to, and you let out a gasp, maybe more of a moan. He took the opportunity to swipe his tongue against yours. He tasted like toothpaste. You hated spearmint, but now you loved it. 

You grasped him, letting your hands roam over his back. You wanted to touch him, feel him, never let him go. You grabbed the corners of his t-shirt with your fists and pulled him closer. He stumbled forward and your head feel back against one of the overhead cupboards. You didn’t care, clung to his mouth as he tried to pull back and check on you. “Don’t stop,” you whined against his lips. 

He chuckled but it trembled, probably had something to do with the way you were pressing your body into his. He gave up in the end, needing to get his hands on you too. He moved to your waist, hands gripping around the small of your back, holding you tight and pushing just as much into you, because he wanted to feel you against him too. To get as close as possible because there had always been a stupid, unnecessary distance between you. 

You felt hot, a little sweaty and out of breath, unsure how a kiss had got you this wrecked. It was just as good as his birthday—no, better. It was better because now you both knew what you wanted. 

“Hey—I know—this isn’t r-really the–mm–time,” Hoseok was trying to speak but he couldn’t stay away from your lips long enough. Words blurred and getting caught short, but you just kissed him more furiously. “But I really f-feel guilty about—last night. All the–the stuff I said–”

“It’s fine,” you got out, but it was enough to begin distracting you. 

He pulled back successfully, gazing at you, eyes warm and sincere. His breath fanned across your face. “I just feel really bad about all that stuff I said about Seokjin. He’s a good guy, I just—

“Let’s not speak about him now,” you interrupted softly. You took a deep breath, slipping your hands up his sides to rub his back. You were both coming down from that high slowly. 

He sighed weakly. “Yeah, I know, I just,” he paused, struggling, before giving a small shrug. “I was jealous of him.” 

“It’s okay,” you reassured. But now Seokjin was back in your head. The guilt was still there. Of course it wouldn’t go immediately, no matter how understanding he had been. But these emotions were conflicting. Plus, you knew you and Hoseok couldn’t be this simple. There was still so much to talk about. From both of you. 

“We need to talk before anything happens, right?” He read your mind. You smiled and nodded, feeling a little sad. 

And right at that moment a familiar banging appeared again. You caught Hoseok’s eyes and you both burst out laughing. Trust Namjoon to ease the moment.   

Hoseok pulled you upright, wrapping his arms around your waist now in a slight hug. You wrapped yours around his neck and he grinned. “We should go on a date tomorrow. We can talk then.” Your eyes widened. A date? Hoseok didn’t do dates. Not proper ones anyway. 

“I want to to this properly.” Again with the mind reading, you smiled to yourself. “I’ll take you out for dinner and we can, I don’t know, talk about what this means.” 

You grinned, Namjoon’s headboard still hitting the wall. “I’d really love that.” 

You were giddy all day. Couldn’t concentrate in work. You were still replaying last night in your head. After the kiss you’d watched some television together, like you always did on Sunday nights. You sat close, but not entwined, too afraid Namjoon would pop out of his bedroom—hopefully fully clothed. You couldn’t explain why that fear hadn’t been there when Hoseok had your back against the counter, but whatever, you weren’t ready for the weirdness that would unfold, nor the conversations that would need to be had. You hadn’t even talked it out yourselves yet. 

That was for tonight. Hoseok had text you just gone midday to tell you he’d gotten his shift for tonight covered and he’d booked dinner at a restaurant for 8pm. After that it had all felt too real. You were nervous, scared and excited all wrapped up into one. You were going on a date with Hoseok. Your friend Hoseok. The one who you’d bumped into this morning in the kitchen. The one who’d handed you a coffee with a shy good morning because he couldn’t say anything else with Namjoon rummaging around in the fridge next to you, totally oblivious. 

And later on, once you were home, getting ready for the date was a whole new experience all together. You know, living with the guy in question and all. You bumped into one another in the bathroom, brushing your teeth together with awkward giggles. He met you outside of your bedroom once you were dressed, eyes wide, cheeks a little flushed at the sight of you. Maybe the fact you were dressed up for him now turned him speechless. “You look beautiful,” he’d managed to splutter finally. 

He didn’t scrub up too badly himself. He was in a shirt for one. Loose at the neck, no tie, but a shirt nonetheless. And dress pants. Where exactly was he taking you? You didn’t have time to ask because you had to ninja your way out of the loft before you got caught. 

Dinner started off awkwardly at first. Stumbling over words, small talk drying up, lots of nervous laughter, but gradually you both found your groove. How could you not? It was you and Hoseok! All the history and chemistry you had didn’t just disappear because of one date. You were soon giggling together when you noticed a man accidentally walk into the women’s restroom. Childish, yes, but who cared? That’s who you and he were. 

By the main course you were both ready to open up, talk about you guys and what this meant. 

“I’m sorry about yelling the other night,” he apologised, pushing some spinach around his plate absentmindedly. 

You gave a little shrug.  “It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I was mad at myself more than anything.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Blame yourself.” He looked across at you. “You were mad because I kissed you when you had a boyfriend. I mean, it was a pretty dick-y thing to do and I feel really bad about it.” 

You smiled, that meant a lot to you. It was a complicated situation. The suddenness of it all the sole problem. 

You didn’t want to talk about Seokjin. You didn’t want to compare the two men, even though throughout the day your mind had tried to. In all honestly, both were very different, but both were good men. There was no winner, there was no loser. It just happened that you couldn’t ignore this chance with Hoseok. Not when he had been there first. Maybe looking at it now, you and Seokjin were different kinds of people. Maybe the relationship wasn’t as perfect as you’d thought. Not your perfect anyway. It could’ve worked out yes, but you knew he deserved someone better than you. Someone different to you. 

You realised something at that moment. Seokjin had always found your quirkiness adorable, but Hoseok found it normal. You didn’t know what that meant, but it made sense in your own head. It made you happy. You were here, in front of one another, on a date. Nothing else mattered.  

“If you hadn’t have done it we wouldn’t be here right now.” You told him. It was no good just thinking everything in your head. You needed to tell Hoseok some things. You wanted to tell him how happy you were. “On a dateee.” 

He laughed, relaxing into his chair. “We’re on a date!” 

He couldn’t quite believe it still. You laughed at how cute he was being and looked around. “You chose the fanciest place.” 

“Yeah,” he murmured, looking a little sheepish. “Did I go over the top? Feel like I did.” He stopped and then laughed. “I hope your heels aren’t too high, we gotta run outta here when they fetch the bill.” 

“Hobi,” you whined. He didn’t need to make a joke like that. Then you thought of something else. You hoped he didn’t take you here because he thought you expected it. Any restaurant would’ve done. “Hey,” you said softly. “I hope you don’t still believe all that stuff about you just being a bartender.” He shrugged a little sheepish. “I teach adults how to write fiction and I’m not too hot at it. Half of them are failing.” 

He chuckled at that, picking up his glass of wine. “I think the problem probably lies with them not you.” 

You looked at him, needing him not to laugh this off. You wanted him to see you didn’t care what job he had. “My point is, my job isn’t all that glamorous. It doesn’t have to be.” You thought he liked his job. It should never be used as something to separate you. 

He sighed softly, giving in. “I’m sorry I laid all that stuff on you. They’re my insecurities not yours. It’s just after… Just after the breakup with Minah. The stuff she said to me really stuck.” 

You reached for one of his hands, grasping is fingers. The warmth was all you needed. “I get that.” You still had some insecurities left over from your breakup with Seungwoo, but with Hoseok none of those things mattered. “I’m sorry for calling you childish, and selfish.” 

“And mean. Don’t forget mean,” he joked. 

“And mean.” You looked away sheepishly, before realising you needed to look him in the eyes for this. “I don’t want you to be insecure around me. I like you for you.” 

He chuckled quietly, squeezing your hand. “Thank you.” 

“I think it’s cool that you work at a bar.” You wanted to lighten the moment now, shrugging. “But maybe that’s because of the free drinks you give me.” 

He laughed, both of you pulling your hand back to carry on eating. “I’m actually not allowed to do that, but you’re so pretty how could I not?” 

You felt your cheeks flush at his casual remark. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“Very much so. Plus other things…” 

You smiled shyly. “I find you pretty too. Huh?” You noticed the face he pulled. “Is that not a good thing?” 

“I’m not pretty,” he baffled. 

“Are too.” You insisted. You’d always thought so, especially when he smiled. “I think you’re sexy too. Very sexy.” 

“Oh yeah?” He seemed to like that one better. “What’s so sexy about me?” 

You looked down at his wine. It wasn’t the right alcohol, but it made you remember something. “I like the way you drink beer. You gargle it a little.” 

“I do?” He looked puzzled. 

“Yeah, you do, and I don’t know, it’s kinda hot.” He looked chuffed at that. “What about me?” You added. 

“Hm,” he thought out loud. “It’s not really sexy, maybe a little misogynistic,” he laughed, “but I like when you struggle to open things. Like that bag of chips last week. When you ask for my help, I don’t know, it makes me feel good about myself.” 

It made him feel good when he opened a bag of chips for you? You awed loudly. “That’s so sweet, Hobi.” 

He scoffed, a little embarrassed. “Oh.” He remembered something. “I like when guys mistake me for your boyfriend.” 

You cocked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? I like that too. And vice versa.” You had never been able to pinpoint why in the past. It was usually gone before you could even try to explain it, but it had still been there. Numerous times. You’d just been clueless. 

“Isn’t this scary?” You asked. It was new and exciting, and you were happy, but it was also weird to be here. Sat opposite your friend, your roommate… the man you had feelings for. The man who up until a few nights ago, had a crush on another woman. No wonder he hadn’t really cared when Namjoon asked if he could bone Nara. And he, well he was sitting opposite you, who up until last night had a boyfriend. Talk about whiplash. This was crazy. 

“It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever done,” he admitted. 

“We’re like best friends, but is it because we’ve always had feelings for one another?” 

Hoseok upturned his shoulders. “I honestly have no clue. It makes sense, but…” 

“But at the same time it doesn’t?” You finished for him. He nodded. If he had never kissed you that night, then this wouldn’t be happening right now. Maybe it would’ve never happened. You would’ve kept missing one another. The moment never there for him and you probably oblivious until it was too late… 

But that wasn’t the case now. You were both here. Suddenly and maybe not in the best of circumstances, but you were here. That’s all that mattered. Was there really such a thin like between friendship and lovers? You tried imagining kissing Namjoon but couldn’t do it. It made you feel weird. Not the same weird you’d felt locked in the closet with Hoseok. 

“I don’t want to ruin what we have already but I can’t ignore these feelings I have for you.” Hoseok explained. “I’ve been repressing them for so long they’re uncontrollable.” He chuckled. 

“Same. I think.” You were beginning to realise that love didn’t have to punch you in the face immediately for it to be the real thing. “If I ignore how I feel about you I’ll spontaneously combust. I know it. I will.” These feelings had hit you full force and now you couldn’t ignore them even if you tried. 

He chuckled at your passion. “I don’t want you to spontaneously combust.” A thought popped into his head. “What will Yoongi say? Namjoon?” He groaned, rubbing his temples.  “What do we even tell them?” 

“Maybe we won’t tell them for a little while?” You suggested. You didn’t want to share this new, uncertain thing with other people just yet. The loft wasn’t the best set up in this situation. “Just until we work out what’s going on between us?” 

“Like keeping it a secret?” 

“I know it’s not ideal but I don’t want to mess this up.” He nodded, agreeing with you. “If we try and fail our friendship could get ruined. That terrifies me, Hobi.” You wanted to be honest here. All cards on the table. “I love you a lot. I don’t want to jeopardise anything.” 

“Hey, hey, nothing will get ruined, I promise you,” he reassured, reaching for your hand with both of his. “We’ll take it as slow as you want. This is new and if we do it properly then everything will be okay in the end.” He gave you a gentle smile. “Whatever the outcome. If we decide to move forward or decide to just stay friends, we’ll be okay.” 

Maybe that’s why you’d never realised your feelings for him. Why he’d never said anything. Your friendship meant too much to one another. If that was ruined somehow it would kill you both. But it didn’t have to be like that. If you both saw the potential danger, you could avoid it best you could. You shouldn’t be thinking of the potential end if it was only just the beginning. 

“You’re right,” you smiled back. 

Letting go of your hand he relaxed back into the chair again. “But for tonight, let’s think of this as a new thing. It’ll take the pressure off us.” 

“How do you mean?” You asked, curious. He had a giant smirk on his face. 

He shrugged. “Maybe we met on Tinder. Decided to go for a drink.” 

Oh. Okay, you saw where he was going. A little bit of make believe. That sounded fun. You and Hoseok always messed around like this. Why would it change? “Yeah,” you nodded, getting into it instantly. “We liked what we saw. I liked the way you dress.” 

He snorted. “You hate my dress sense. You told me I dress like a twenty year old hipster.”  

“I like it!” You insisted. You mean, in your defence you’d only said that because he’d said you dressed like a granny. He’d started it. 

“Thank you.” He was satisfied, you both could commence. “I liked your glasses. Reminded me of the librarian kink I had in high school.” 

“Eww.” You wrinkled your nose. “Weirdo.” You both laughed loudly. 

.

.

“Goodnight, pretty lady. I’ll see you in the morning,” Hoseok murmured. The night was over, the loft was empty, the guys probably already in bed, when you got back and you both walked down the hallway to your rooms, stopping outside to say goodnight. 

“Lame,” you scoffed, but he could tell by your face you loved it. “Night.” 

He leaned in for a kiss. It seemed like he was trying to keep it brief, nothing like last night or two nights before that, but no matter how hard he tried, it lingered. It was painful pulling apart and walking into your bedroom. You knew he was trying to be chivalry, and patient, and whatever else, but there was an itch inside you that screamed to be relieved. 

You pressed the back of your head up against the door, closing your eyes and taking a few breaths. Praying the desire you felt would ebb away. You heard movement from the other side. 

“Slow, we should take this slow.” Hoseok almost whined from outside.  

You opened your eyes immediately and flung the door open. You were on him in an instant, kissing him eagerly. Thankful your rooms were the other side of the loft from Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s. There would he no explaining this, and you didn’t want to share this with anyone else yet. Not to be careful, not just in case, like you’d originally thought, but because you were selfish. You wanted Hoseok for yourself. 

“I really want you. Like so bad,” you panted, hands all over his body. You wanted him out of his shirt. Out of his pants. Thoughts and images jumped into your mind. You were a woman possessed. “I’ve waited too long already. Please.” 

“Don’t beg like that.” His voice was so low, maybe even a growl, and it did things to you. 

You didn’t want to take this slow. Everything was already perfect. No matter what had happened to get here, it was all perfect now. 

You couldn’t wait a moment longer. You needed to be with him. 

“Pleaseee,” you said purposefully. 

He growled this time. For real. “I said don’t–ah, fuck it!” You exclaimed out loud as he picked you up from the middle, legs dangling alongside his as he walked into your room. He let go and cupped your face tight. He was breathing heavily. “I really want this, I really like you. I’m sure of it. Now that this is finally happening. Now I finally had the guts to make a move. This is for real.” 

You blinked. “Forreal for real?” 

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Never been more certain of anything in my entire life.” 

And then he was kissing you again. You never wanted it to stop. With shaky hands you took his and began to lead him backwards towards your bed…

*bonus* 

“Morning,” Hoseok smiled from above you. 

You’d only just woken up, eyes still blurry, but you rubbed them and rolled onto your back. “Good morning,” you smiled back. 

He rubbed his hand over your waist under the covers, now grinning like he couldn’t stop it. “We did that.” 

You were still naked. So was he. What a thought. “We really did that.” 

“Twice.” 

You hummed, reliving last nights antics. It was just so natural. The sex you mean. No awkwardness, no nerves. It was just…perfect. Giggling and messing around, just like you were as friends. Nothing had changed. Only now you were probably going to be bumping uglies on the regular… It was only right to make a new suggestion now. “Wanna make it a third?” 

“Thought you’d never ask,” he laughed, dipping his head to kiss your neck. You let yourself sink, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment until you remembered something. 

“Wait, wait—!” Your eyes flew open. “What’s the time?” 

Hoseok stopped and looked back, craning his neck to catch the time on your alarm clock. “Twenty past 7.” 

You groaned. “I have a class in 2 hours.” 

“Uhh,” he started awkwardly, pecking your lips. “This is new n’ all but I don’t want to get your hopes up so early into this. I will never be able to last two hours. You’ll be fine. You won’t miss class,” he chuckled. 

“Shut up,” you groaned, kissing him just to roll him on his back. The thought of leaving this bed today was depressing. “I’m just going to call in sick anyway.” You told him, pulling away.

He stroked his fingers through your hair, smirking. “Oh, a bad girl, huh?” 

You narrowed your eyes. If he wanted you to be bad, you could be bad. “Get a condom, Jung.” 

[talkfastromance4]

The Click-- Calum Hood (soulmate!au)

It’s here! I’ve never written soulmate stuff before so this is probably really different from what you’ve normally read, and it’s different from what I normally write but this really has a part of my heart in it.  Inspired by Lang Leav’s wonderful works (the poems up above) and some weird instances I’ve been having.

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: none, no smut whatsoever (I know who am I?)

Son inspiration: Then I saw You by Tatiana Manois and Surrender by Natalie Taylor

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. *copyright is listed at bottom*

• • • •

Two strangers both alike in mind have a book propped open with words inked in of love and heartbreak and other musings. They are alike because they mark their favorite poems by dog ears and highlights with little scrawls of their own thoughts scratched into the margins.

Late night for her, early morning for him as they’re on two different sides of the country, it’s not just miles that separate them, but the day and night. The moon comforts her and is her light as she reads of a love shared between two poets. The sun is his friend and a warm embrace as he delves deeper and deeper into the pages of the same love but tinged with an air of sophisticated provocativeness.

While on their Spotify playlists, the same artists and songs are shared between the two. Music and lyrics, words, and prose, two hearts longing for the same thing. 

A love to be written about, a love to be shared, an adventurous love that is unique because it is their own. In both their minds, that kind of love doesn’t seem tangible. To be added to their likeness, they’re both the only single ones amongst their friends and have been for a while. 

Calum showered his friends in love, giving his friends small gifts and helping in any way that he could. He was always down for a good time, sharing laughs and making memories. Rose was the same, she enjoyed being with her friends and family. 

In the daylight they appeared fine and well put together but going home to an empty house in a lonely bed is where they felt the weight of their ache. Sometimes it kept them both up, reading their poetry books or writing their own. His were songs while hers were just words but the premise was the same, dreaming of love. 

She received an opportunity of a lifetime to go to school for her writing. A quiet dream she’d held safe in the privacy of her own mind. It was thrilling yet terrifying moving to a whole new city, the city of angels. Her best friend stayed with her for a week helping her adjust in her new albeit small studio apartment.

It was a steal that was right above a coffee bookshop, a place where she’d also received a job. When she wouldn’t be in school, she’d be working to help pay for rent. While she unpacked and decorated her place, she kept pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 

When her classes started, she was up by 4 a.m. because of her nerves and her excitement, it bundled up inside her. She ran through her schedule three times, checked her bag that she had the right textbooks and her small laptop.

She read her favorite poems until it was time for her first class. The owner of the shop already had her coffee made to her liking with a cranberry orange muffin already in a bag. 

“Thanks Teresa,” she smiles, taking the goodies.

“Have a great first day! Do you want a picture with your bag?” Teresa is a kind, thirty-something year old woman. She’s living her dream owning a coffee bookshop and has the kindest smile. 

“I’m okay, don’t need a reminder I’m starting with kids fresh outta high school.”

“You’re not that much older, twenty-five is still young, Rose,” Teresa smiles. “Enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” she smiles then waves with her pinky. 

Her first day of classes is just how she thought they’d be, the awkward introductions that she rehearsed in her head before speaking, going through the itinerary for the semester and then reading a few chapters and taking some notes. Rose loved every minute of it. 

During lunch and her breaks, she reread through each itinerary again and bookmarks the pages in her textbook she’ll be needing. In between that, she reads her poetry book and jots down a few of her own thoughts. 

Then, the day is done and she starts her four hour shift at the bookshop that would last until closing time at 9:30. Rose quickly discovered that this would be a very easy job because it didn’t get a rush of people for dinner. 

Some other students she passed on campus would stop in with a friend and share a cup of coffee or tea. By 7:30 there were only a couple of people scattered about the shop, books, or tablets in front of them as the soft indie music played throughout. 

Rose gathers her books into her bag behind the counter before she moves to the bookshelf wall to restock the books left on the small wooden tables. She finds herself humming along to a song she knows when there’s a commotion outside.

The other guests inside turn to look as well through the windows framed in the purple and blue twilight shade to see a couple. They’re the source of the noise as both their voices rise over the other and when he throws his arms in the air that’s when Rose turns back to her task.

Clearly whatever was happening outside was a private moment and Rose couldn’t help but smile at the irony of the saying ‘outside looking in’ while she’s inside but was just looking into their outside debacle. Her mind always thinks of outlandish things like that, she calls it her circle thinking because she can run with the same thought over and over. 

It doesn’t make sense to others, but it does to her.

After a few moments, she glanced outside, and the couple was gone. The streetlights had flickered on and she could see stars poking through the darkened sky. She hopes she’ll see the moon upstairs. 

After the last guest leaves, she locks the door and sweeps up the shop, wipes down tables and locks the cash drawer in the small vault in the back. She checks that the back door is locked after tossing the garbage out quickly and runs upstairs to her studio apartment. She makes a cup of hot cocoa before bed and reads and writes into her favorite poetry book, her journal next to her. 

The hot cocoa made her sleepy and she fell fast asleep with her book atop her chest. She dreamed of someone that held a powerful connection with her, he understood her and made her smile. By morning, the dream slipped away with the stars and she started her new routine over again. 

***

Calum’s fingers tap impatiently on the laminate surface of the table as he sat through this meeting. It was mundane but necessary that he be here because the band had decided to take a year off. The world is still in recovery from the pandemic and they agreed collectively to hold off on anything until there was some decent footing again. 

He’s been in a bit of a mood since he and Zoe fought a few weeks ago after having dinner. They weren’t exclusive, only seeing each other on occasion and that night she brought up soulmates. She was almost nagging at him that he wasn’t hers and that they were wasting their time when he reminded her, she was the one to call him. 

He hasn’t heard from her since. 

His mind wandered throughout, thinking of ways he can occupy the next 365 days when he wasn’t writing music. Music is his life; it’s always been a constant and has pulled him through some tough situations and has uplifted him in joyous ones. On the TV stuck to the wall there was a news report scanning at the bottom that the university not too far from his home has the highest enrollment rate.

That piques his interest. He reads the closed caption below the broadcaster as it says open enrollment has become the new norm, welcoming students from all ages to attend. This information strikes a chord within Calum and he’s found what he wants to do with his year off. 

When the meeting had finally finished, Calum decided to head over to the university and see if he could still enroll. The semester started only a few weeks ago but with this new window of free time, he’s sure he could catch up. 

Enrolling turned out to be easy. He had a meeting with a counselor to discuss what his intentions were and if there was any specific study he wanted to get into. He selected creative writing and psychology, bought his books, got his schedule and he was officially a college student. 

The night before his first class, Calum is restless. He tosses. He turns. He stares out the window of his room, the moon winking at him through the small opening of the curtain. Duke is snoring softly to his left and Calum’s mind is racing. 

Thoughts tumble over one another, scenarios flash across his mind and then he hears a random melody in his head that sounds too familiar and it helps him drift off to sleep. 

***

Calum is racing to get to his first class, he didn’t wake up to his alarm until thirty minutes after the intended time and he blamed it all on a dream. A dream that felt so real he thought the woman in his subconscious was still speaking to him in his ear. 

He threw on the first article of clothing his fingers touched, gargled with mouthwash, and shoved a beanie on his head. Regrettably, he didn’t have time to stop for coffee and he hoped there would be some sold on campus somewhere. 

Calum just got settled into his seat at the back of the lecture when the Professor stood at the front and began to speak. Thankfully, Calum retrieved notes from the three weeks he missed and read them all weekend, so he picked up easily with what the Professor is talking about. 

He smiles to himself, maybe he is cut out for school. 

Calum is surprised how drained he feels after his first day. His head is swimming with new knowledge and he’s anxious to get home and get to work. On his walk back to the parking structure where his car is parked, he sees the coffee bookshop he and Zoe fought in front of almost a month ago. 

The sign above the bay window reads ‘CBS’ and in smaller print below that it reads ‘coffee bookshop’ and he smiles at the simple cleverness. He remembers Ashton has gone in there a few times and said the coffee is great. Calum makes a promise to himself that he’ll stop there tomorrow morning before class to grab a cup.

His night is spent reading over the homework and answering a few of the discussion questions while Duke sat in his lap. Calum tried writing down the lyrics of the song he heard this morning, but he couldn’t distinguish what they were. To wind down, he had his favorite Michael Faudet book propped on his stomach as he read through each page.

He reads through his own writing; his words transport him to that point in time when the words flowed out of him effortlessly. One poem resonates in his mind as he reads about love being compared to that of a rose and the lilting melody from this morning trickled into his ears again and he instantly relaxed. His mind quieted and his eyelids felt heavy as he replayed the same simple notes over and over. 

A beautiful melody without any words.

The loud vibration of his phone woke him up before the actual song did, but he leapt out of bed immediately. The promise of a hot cup of coffee egged him on to take a shower and dress in something nicer than a wrinkled band shirt he had on yesterday. 

Traffic wasn’t that bad, and he parked his car on the first level of the structure and he still had forty-five minutes until his first class. Today is shaping up to be the start of a good one and just as he locks his phone so he can open the door of the CBS, he collides with a body. 

Books go flying. His phone clutters to the ground and he panics at the fatality that could be evident in the million cracks of his screen. Rushed ‘sorry’s’ are exchanged between him and the stranger as they scramble to gather their things. Their bodies twist away from each other as he shoves his books and pens back into his bag. 

When he stands to apologize again, she’s already bustling away, her red scarf blowing behind her in the morning breeze. He sighs then heads inside to examine his phone, but he looks back again to try and get a glimpse of her face. She’s already gone. While they were scrambling to get their belongings, he noted how the smell of coconuts, vanilla, and something else he couldn’t put his finger on, invaded his nostrils. It made him think of the ocean.

He examines his phone to find there isn’t a scratch on it and when he unlocks it there’s a picture of the poem he read last night. Roses. The girl he bumped into smelled of roses. 

***

Rose is having an off day. Her alarm didn’t even go off and she put in a generous amount of dry shampoo in her hair but resulted in putting on a hat. She didn’t even have time to get her coffee and muffin from Teresa for she rushed out the front door and collided with some guy. 

Without her coffee it was hard for her to focus and when she got called on in class, she had to ask the professor to repeat the question because she didn’t hear it. Then her laptop crashed, and she couldn’t work on an assignment that’s due by Friday. 

By the time she made it to CBS, she didn’t want to work her shift. Customers were being needy and rude and all she wanted to do was take a hot shower and read. After eating a quick microwave dinner, Rose took a hot shower then turned on her favorite playlist titled ‘Blue’ for moments like this. 

She opens her bag to grab her poetry book, ‘The Universe of Us’ but finds its exact counterpart of Lang Leav; Michael Faudet’s book ‘Cult of Two’ lays on her table. 

Did she put that in her bag by mistake? 

It was a rough morning so it is possible, but she could have sworn she grabbed the book from her bedside table. Sighing, Rose takes the book to place it back on her shelf then becomes more confused when she sees the same book in her hands, perched snugly on the shelf with her other poetry books. 

Rose knows she only has one copy, so where did this one come from and where is her book? She tosses the white paperback onto her bed and empties her whole bag, checking each book twice. How could she have lost it? It’s always buried safely in the bottom of her bag and she didn’t take it out all day except--

Rose gasps. This morning when she was leaving the shop she bumped into a guy and all their belongings went flying. She must have grabbed his book by mistake, and he grabbed hers. Panic sets in, she’s written down some of her innermost thoughts in that book, personal things.

Now this random stranger has her soul in his hands, and she might never see him again. With angry tears in her eyes she crawls into bed while Lewis Capaldi’s voice thrums around her walls. Needing comfort, she opens the strangers’ book then snaps it shut just as fast because there’s handwriting on the pages. 

Just like hers.

***

Calum is reading about the red string of fate. After that run in with the girl outside CBS a month ago, he read through her book and became transfixed with those words she wrote down. He knows he shouldn’t have read her thoughts, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. Clearly the poetry captivated her, but her words captivated him.

The red string of fate is a Japanese legend meant to tie soulmates together by their pinkies. No matter the circumstance, the time or place, the two will always find each other. It may stretch and it may tangle but it will never break. He’s never heard of it before now, but he’s become obsessed with the idea of it. 

Every morning he’s stopped by CBS to see if he’ll run into her again so he can return her book, but he’s never seen her. His classes are going well and he’s learning so much, his creativity is overflowing. Much of that is because of this girl’s book. 

Its spine is overly creased from endless love of reading, some words are highlighted and circled. Pages are dog eared on what he assumes are her favorite poems. Calum smiled the first time he paged through it all because he’s written in his book as well. He wonders if she’s read any of his musings yet. 

“Bro, I haven’t seen you without that book. Where’s yours?” Ashton asks while they’re out for lunch. 

“Um, I lost it actually. I bumped into this girl outside the CBS and our things scattered everywhere. We switched books,” Calum explains flipping the pages. “She writes it in like I do.”

“You read it? Mate,” Ashton sighs exasperatedly, “that’s an invasion of privacy.”

“I know, I know! But I can’t get enough of it. She’s smart and passionate in what she writes. I wish I got a better look at her when I bumped into her so I could return it.”

“There’s no name inside?”

“Nope. She could be in one of my classes for all I know,” Calum sighs then picks away at the corner of the cover. “What was it like when you and Ruby found each other?”

Ruby is Ashton’s soulmate and they’ve been together for almost two years now. Calum remembers the change in Ashton when she came into his life, he was lighter. 

“I heard her voice in my head.”

“What did she say?”

Ashton smiles, “My name.”

“Then how did you find her?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain,” Ashton’s brows crease. “It was only a few days after I heard her voice that I knew her name. It came to me out of the blue. Do you remember anything about her?”

“She had on this red scarf and smelled like a rose.” Calum suddenly felt a wave of dizziness swim in his head and he held onto his temples.

“You okay?” Ashton reaches over as if to help but he’s not sure what’s happening to his friend. 

“Woah, that was weird, I got super dizzy,” Calum says blinking a few times until he can see straight again. He removes his fingers from his temples and Ashton is giving him a funny look. “What?”

“What did she smell like again?” he leans forward.

“A rose, why--fuck!” the wave of dizziness crashes into him again and it’s like his brain is spinning in his head. When his vision returns Ashton is smiling gleefully. “Glad to see you enjoy my pain.”

“Don’t you see?! You got vertigo as soon as you said rose. That must be her name.”

“Really? Is that what happened when you said Ruby’s name?”

“Yeah basically, but it wasn’t this strong. She must be close,” Ashton looks around him as if she’ll appear out of thin air. “I suggest going to CBS morning and night, she’s gotta be there at some point.”

***

Rose is flicking through the pages of the new poetry book she acquired. Curiosity killed the cat and she just had to dig her claws between the pages because she’s sure he’s already done the same or will soon enough. 

Some of his thoughts left her breathless and with an odd familiar feeling at the way it’s structured. Some of his sentences seem more like lyrics that she’s heard before but can never find the tune that goes with it.

She hadn’t been feeling well this morning, nausea and dizziness made her skip her classes and she laid in bed all day. It would come and go throughout the day and right before bed she drew herself a bubble bath with some candles. The flickering light created the perfect ambience while she read Faudet’s words and the mysterious stranger. 

Where her notes are written in paragraphs or stanzas, his are scattered about the page. Sometimes she has to turn the book to read it upside down. The curse words make her laugh and sometimes there’s a fun little drawing. 

It isn’t until she reaches the last few pages and she’s reading about a blue angel and knocking back a shot when she stumbles on a name that is not the author. It’s a name she’s heard before, a name she’s known of and has seen floating around her social media.

“Calum Hood,” she mumbles, and she instantly becomes dizzy again. It happens so fast it startles her, and she nearly drops the book into the bubbles. Somehow in her bewilderment she managed to let it flop onto the bathroom floor. 

The bathwater and bubbles slosh over the sides as she reaches for the book again. Did she read that right? Her fingers leave dark, pudgy circles on the pages as she goes to that page again. 

“Calum,” she breathes, and the room spins again causing her to drop the book once more. “Okay, okay, okay, okay. . .”

Rose gets out of the bath quickly, letting the water drain noisily as she dries off and puts on her pajamas. The spinning has stopped, and she sits cross legged in the middle of her bed, the poetry book open to the poem and her phone opened to Instagram and Twitter.

She’s been an avid fan for quite a few years now and to think if he was the one, she bumped into? With her thumbs hovering over the keyboard she closes her eyes trying to remember anything about him from that morning. 

All she can remember is the rush to gather her things and his soft husky voice as he said sorry. She didn’t look at him once and it’s very possible she bumped into Calum Hood. Her mind racing, she texts every one of her friends that have already found their soulmates asking what and how it happened. 

She needs answers because how odd is it that she’s felt dizzy and nauseous all day then sees his name, says it, and gets dizzy all over again? Is that what’s supposed to happen? Does this mean he’s been saying her name all this time as well? 

Her friends' responses were pretty much the same. In each instance they heard his or her voice in their head say their name. Why hadn’t she heard his voice? Could he hear hers? Rose unlocks her phone and searches his name, turns out he’s gone back to school. The same school she’s attending but it doesn’t say what he’s studying, which is good because it must be annoying having everyone know what’s going on in your life. 

Rose falls back onto her pillows burrowing under the covers and shuts off the light. 

“Please let me go to school tomorrow, Calum,” she huffs then turns over to hug her pillow. 

She swears she hears a ghostly laugh in her ear before sleep consumes her. 

***

“I bite back.”

Calum still hears the soft voice from his dream, he can still feel the soft brush of her lips against his ear as she said those words. He’s staring up at the ceiling replaying the dream of sitting next to a girl. In his subconscious it felt like he already knew her, and they carried a conversation well. He doesn’t remember exactly what he was saying but he can hear those three words as if she were laying right next to him. 

He greets Duke with quick kisses before letting him outside and Calum washes his face, brushes his teeth, and gets dressed. After he brings Duke in, Calum gathers his bags making sure The Universe of Us is right at the top. 

He’s been going to CBS early each morning so he can sit and try to watch for the girl he bumped into. He has one cup of coffee and reads through her pages until it’s time to go for class. A few times he thought he recognized her, but the girl in question always turned out to be just a fan and wanted a quick chat and photo. 

They never smelled like roses, so he knew it wasn’t her.

After his final sip of coffee, he flips to a page with the title ‘The One’ and he immediately goes to the girl’s handwritten words. 

‘And I want you to be the one for me. The one who brings out my storm but also calms the waves. I want you to be my perfect counterpart. Is my red string frayed?’

Calum smiles at the last sentence. He wishes he could tell her that no, it isn’t frayed and he’s trying his damndest to find her. He gathers his things and heads out the door because his first class is starting in fifteen minutes.

Just as he walked out the door, if he would have waited one more minute, Rose came by his table and cleaned up his dishes to help Teresa out before she went on her way to class. 

“How are you feeling today Rose?” Teresa asks, taking the dirty dishes from her. 

“A little better,” Rose shrugs, “I can’t miss two days. Are you sure it’s alright I can switch my shift from tonight to tomorrow?”

“Of course. You need to catch up on what you missed, Colbie will cover for you. Take it easy, you still look a little pale,” Teresa frowns. 

“I’ll be fine, but thank you,” Rose smiles then waves. “I’ll see you later.”

***

The day runs as normal for them both. Calum has felt this growing energy within him as if something is about to happen, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. He’s been looking at every woman he passes waiting to see if there’s a connection or a siren that will go off as if to say “that’s her! That’s her!” but he comes up short. 

Rose still feels a little queasy throughout the day and she’s distracted because all she wants to do is read Calum’s poetry book to try and find another connection. 

When the school day is over, she sets up her workspace at her favorite table by the bookshelf in a large, plush chair. Her own latte sits next to her while she quickly does her homework and opens the book. From the corner of her eye a tall figure sits in the chair on the other side of the table. She pays it no mind until there’s a loud crash.

The stranger knocked her cup to the floor, and it shattered, white foam and coffee filling up the grooves in the tile. 

“Shit, I’m sorry--”

“It’s okay,” she says automatically. 

They both reach for the largest fragment of broken cup; their pinkies touch and Rose feels something click inside her. Her skin is hot where he touches her, and with her heart pounding like a thousand horses running, she looks up. 

He knew who she was before he looked into her eyes, when they came in such proximity, he smelled the roses and the coconut and the vanilla. When their pinkies touched, he felt a spark shoot up his veins, that’s the siren he’s been waiting for and when he looked into her eyes? Everything clicked into place.

“Rose?”

“Calum?”

They both laugh nervously, their pinkies still touching. Rose feels her cheeks warm and Calum can’t stop smiling at her. After their small moment, they clean up the mess of the broken cup and sit back in their respective chairs. 

“I think this is yours,” she holds out his book that she was currently reading. 

“And I believe--” he pulls out her book from his bag holding it up “--this is yours.”

Having it in her possession again makes it feel like a lost limb has been returned home. Calum flips through his own book noticing the wrinkled pages. He knows she read it and he’s so glad she’s the one who did. He watches her rifle through the pages, soft fingers tracing over words that have been printed and words she’s inked in herself. 

“You’re a wonderful writer,” he comments, and her eyes flash up to him.

“You are too, but you’re a musician so that’s no surprise,” she giggles, and Calum loves the sound. 

Talking comes easily between Calum and Rose, but how could it not when they’re soulmates? As the night gets longer and the shop is about to close, Rose invites him up for some tea and he gladly accepts. 

While she’s setting up the kettle, he examines her bookshelf, some books he’s read, and others grab his attention that he wants to ask her about. Soft music fills the room and he smiles because this is on one of his playlists as well.

“How do you like your tea?” she asks, and Calum moves back to the kitchen area. 

“Little bit of milk and honey and some sugar,” he smiles, watching her add the ingredients.

Their fingers brush again when he accepts the cup from her, another spark ignites but it starts a different type of warmth. Calum becomes very aware of both their actions. He’s aware of how close she sits next to him on the couch, he’s aware of the way she licks her lips and how badly he wants to kiss them. 

“So, this is . . . a little crazy, right?” she laughs awkwardly, her finger circling the rim of the mug. “How did you find me? Did you hear my voice? Because I didn’t hear yours.”

“What did you experience then?” he asks, setting his mug on the small table in front of them. 

“I was home for a whole day because I just felt really dizzy and nauseous, then when I was taking a bath and reading your book, I saw your name, said it out loud and had another dizzy spell. I think I dreamed of you, too. . .” her brows furrowed in confusion.

Calum tries not to let her small tidbit of information that she was in the bath when she said his name get to him, but he knows exactly what she’s talking about. He was at home playing with Duke when he felt another wave of dizziness hit, it came upon him so fast that he practically fell onto the couch. It felt different then when he said her name, it was stronger. 

“I’m sorry, when I discovered your name, I kept saying it,” he admits fiddling with one of his rings. 

“How’d you find out my name?” 

“I was talking with my friend, Ashton and I told him about the day we collided and how you smelled like a rose. You know what’s funny? When we said each other’s name downstairs I didn’t feel dizzy, did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” she shakes her head then looks at him, “what does that mean?”

“I--” he stops short when the song shifts, and he gasps. “I’ve had this melody stuck in my head for weeks, is this you singing?”

“Absolutely not,” Rose laughs and rises from the couch to turn it up on her phone. “It calms me down, so I play it a lot. What was--oh!”

She spun around and Calum was standing right in front of her. She didn’t realize how tall he is until right now and the scent of his cologne and laundry detergent reminds her of a home she’s come back to. 

“I have an idea as to why we didn’t hear each other’s voices,” he says, stepping even closer. 

“What’s that?” Rose licks her lips.

“We feel things, and instead of vocalizing them, we write them down or listen to it in music,” he tucks her hair behind her ear. “Even the books we read the authors are in love.”

Rose chuckles at that. “Yeah, what are the odds they’re our favorites?”

“Pretty high, since we were made for each other,” he smiles. His fingers tickle her cheek as he tilts her head up, her eyes are shining, and the smell of roses invades his senses. He inches his mouth closer to hers, “I’m ready to surrender to this, Rose.”

She nods and closes the small space between their lips and it’s as if everything stops. The only thing she can feel are his soft, warm lips on hers, the calluses of his fingers on her cheek and the way his other hand wraps around her waist. He pulls her close and she grabs hold of his shirt, kissing him is like a breath of fresh air. 

He pulls her even closer, chest against chest and she gasps at the movement but welcomes his tongue excitedly. They kiss feverishly, as if this is the only time they have. But they have many more days and many more moments to make memories of. 

They’re breathing heavily when they break the kiss, she feels him smile against her lips and gives her two soft pecks. 

“Calum?”

“Hmm?” his thumb strokes her cheek affectionately.

“You made my world stop spinning.”

• • • •

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[esperantoauthor]

Title: Express Yourself Author: Esperanto (@esperantoauthor​) Rating: T Status: Complete (129,413 words) Tropes/Genre: slow build, friends to lovers, AU S2 canon divergence, romance, friendship, light angst

Summary: When he was 4, he didn’t notice it. When he was 6, he hoped he could outgrow it. When he was 14 he thought he could ignore it. When he was 16, he tried hide it.

When Blaine is attacked for being different, he transfers to a new school where he meets a cadre of misfits called The New Directions, who seem very impressed with his singing and very curious about his past. Blaine just wanted to fit in but maybe he will find something better: his voice.[A canon-divergent story in which Blaine transferred to McKinley rather than Dalton after being attacked at his old school.]

Teaser under the cut. Read it on Ao3.

Chapter 1: Starting Over

Blaine woke up on the morning of the first day of school with butterflies in his stomach. They were the result of that confusing mix of anxiety and excitement that he had learned to associate with performing on stage. For his junior year of high school, he would be starting at a brand new school and he was determined to make a good impression. This year would be different. This school would be different. He would be different. Or, you know, less different… more normal.

After a hot shower, Blaine washed his face and then studied himself in the mirror. The scar on his face had faded until it was barely noticeable. Blaine smiled, feeling reassured that he would not stand out because of it. He had stayed out of the sun all summer long and rubbed special anti-scarring cream his mother bought him into it every day to make sure that by the time he started school in the fall, no one would be able to tell he had spent 4 days in the hospital last May.

The smile on his face faded a little as he remembered why he would be attending a new school this year. His parents, overprotective as usual, had insisted that he could not go back to Bath High School with the same boys who had had given him that scar. He had listened with his ear pressed to the door as their raised voices argued with his principal about an “unsafe learning environment” until the principal had agreed to call around to the other Allen County High Schools and see if he could arrange for Blaine to have a waiver to attend from out of district.

Luckily, the principal at the nearest school had signed off on the waiver without much fuss. Blaine knew very little about McKinley High School. He had been there once for an away game when the Bath football team played McKinley. The football team had been okay but their cheerleaders were truly impressive. His best friend, Elaine, had whispered in awe that they had won something like five national championships in a row.  Blaine had turned to google for more information and from what he could find the cheerleading team was McKinley’s one and only claim to fame. It had taken some digging, but Blaine had found one other nugget of interesting information about his new school: an article from a local newspaper about the McKinley High Glee Club winning at Sectionals last year. Bath didn’t even have a competing show choir but choir had always been his favorite class. Blaine bounced in excitement at the thought of being part of a small, exclusive group that competed and had actually won something. I wonder if you have to be a senior to get a solo, he wondered.

“BLAINE!” his mom yelled up the stairs, shaking him out of his thoughts. “If you want breakfast you’d better get down here, pronto!” Shit, I can’t be late on the first day.

Blaine pulled open his closet door to survey the outfit he had carefully laid out the night before: red pants, white collared shirt, and a black sweater. Thank you, past Blaine! He shimmied quickly into the pants and took a few moments to adjust his collar before grabbing his school bag and running down the stairs, two at a time.

“Blaine!” his father admonished, “What have I told you about running down the stairs like that? Do you want to end up back in the hospital?”

Blaine grabbed a plate of food and, with a mouth full of eggs, shrugged sheepishly at his dad. His father wrinkled his nose at him with disgust. “Alright, alright. I can see you are in a hurry to get to school. We will discuss this later.” Blaine carefully loaded his dishes into the dishwasher, leaned over to kiss his mother on the cheek, and saluted sartorially at his father before striding out the door.

—

Blaine parked the Prius in the McKinley High School parking lot and stopped to take a deep breath. He pulled a red folder out of his backpack and reviewed the school map and schedule the guidance counselor Ms. Pillsbury had given him last week when his parents had brought him to register. His father had done all of the talking so Blaine hadn’t really managed to ask any questions but he was pretty sure he could figure it out. He checked his hair in the sun visor mirror and nervously fussed with it. He closed his eyes and imagined a balloon slowly inflating and deflating as he took a few more breaths. You can do this.

Blaine hopped out of the car, settled his book bag over his shoulder, and avoided making eye contact with anyone as he entered the school. He managed to find his locker again and stow some of the extra school supplies he had brought before heading to English class. He arrived a few minutes early so he had time to survey the room and strategize about where to sit.

This was always an important decision for Blaine and if things were anything like his old school, the seat you chose on the first day could well be your seat for the rest of the year. Sit in the first row and everyone thinks you are a teacher’s pet or a show off, including the teacher. Blaine hated to be called on by the teacher in class so sitting too close to the front was dangerous. On the other hand, sit too close to the back and when it was time to pair up for partner work you got stuck with the slackers. So Blaine settled for a spot on the far right side of the room, right in the middle row of chairs. Yes, this would do nicely. He could blend right in from this spot.

Things had been going pretty smoothly until Blaine showed up for U.S. History to see written in large letters on the blackboard, “Please sit according to the seating chart.” Shit, shit, shit. Of course, the teacher had arranged her class in alphabetical order which put Blaine right in the first row between Desmond Adams and Rachel Berry. A girl with dark features and pristine posture primly settled into the seat next to Blaine and held out her hand, “Hi, I’m Rachel Berry. You’re Blaine Anderson. I saw that on the seating chart. You must be a transfer because I’ve never seen you before and they don’t let freshman take U.S. History. Are you a good student, Blaine?”

Blaine’s eyes widened and he felt something tighten up in the pit of his stomach. People who talked fast always made him nervous. It was even harder to rely on his strategies with someone who talked a mile a minute like this girl. On the other hand, she had managed to circumvent one of Blaine’s least favorite social interactions, introducing himself, so that was a big plus.  

Blaine reached out his hand to shake hers and nodded in response to her question.

“Excellent, then you should partner with me for any group work. Desmond is a complete parasite when it comes to group projects; never again.” Her voice shifted down to a conspiratorial whisper, “I think he smokes pot under the bleachers.”

Rachel seemed intense but Blaine was starting to think that might work in his favor. She clearly did not mind doing most of the heavy lifting in a conversation. Blaine looked for signs that she had noticed the fact that he hadn’t spoken a single word to her but she seemed completely oblivious. This was as good as he was going to get for a project partner so Blaine flashed her his most charming grin and nodded his agreement.

When the bell rang for lunch, Rachel turned back to him and studied him carefully. “If you don’t have anywhere to sit at lunch you can always sit with me and my friends. We may not be popular but it is better than sitting alone.” Before Blaine could respond, she had skipped off out of the classroom.

She might be the easiest person to not talk to that I’ve ever met.

[continue reading on Ao3; about halfway through the chapter]

[pikapeppa]

Professor Abelas/Lavellan: Lunch

Chapter 10 of Inadvisable (professor Solas modern university AU) is up on AO3!

A spotlight on Abelas and Athera this week! In which Abelas take an unprecedented lunch break, to Athera’s great surprise.

~7700 words; only Athera’s POV is here. Read the whole thing on AO3. 

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

- ATHERA - 

Athera scowled at her emails. Abelas was micromanaging her, and she was sick of it.

A week had gone by since she’d started working at the Ancient Elvhen Studies lab. By the end of the week, she’d gotten into a nice little routine: she arrived at eight-thirty and put on some coffee and turned on the kettle for whoever showed up that morning, and she had a quick friendly chat with anyone who was kicking around in the lab that early — usually Solas or Merrill. She turned on her computer and started up her music, then checked her emails to see if Solas or Abelas or any other lab members wanted her to do anything specific, and she made up her to-do list for the day. Before nine o’clock rolled around, she jumped into knocking things off of her to-do list one by one. Around noon or one o’clock, someone usually showed up to eat their lunch, so Athera would pause her duties for the day and have lunch with whoever happened to be there. After her hour-long lunch, she’d get back to work, pausing only to chat with anyone who stopped by, and when four-thirty rolled around, she would stop what she was doing and head on home. 

Or at least, she was doing her best to stop her work at four-thirty. She was often tempted to work late, especially if she was in a groove, but Athera knew only too well that she had to be careful not to overwork herself. 

All in all, it was a good routine, and she was really enjoying her job. The other members of the lab seemed to be happy with her work as well; Solas had told her more than once that he was pleased with how quickly she was getting things done, and Merrill and Dagna had both commented on how much easier it was to find what they were looking for since Athera had started digitizing the contents of the archive room. 

The only problem was Abelas. He just had such a crappy attitude. He was always here at the lab before Athera was and he was still here when she was leaving, but he never came out to chat with her, even if they were the only two people in the lab. During the entire course of the week, he had yet to smile a single time, and the way he looked at her always made her think that the next words out of his mouth were going to be ‘get off my lawn’. 

Worse yet, as the week wore on, he’d started watching her while he worked. For the first couple of days that she was here, he’d largely left her alone to do her job. By the middle of the week, however, he’d started coming out of his office to monitor her activities. He would ask why she was doing certain things and why she wasn’t doing them the way he used to do them, or why she was doing one task before the other one he’d asked her to do. After Athera answered his nitpicky questions — very politely, she might add — he would watch her. He’d stand there in the doorway with his arms folded over his muscular chest and that stupid handsome frown on his face, and he would watch her in a way that made her wonder if he’d been a prison guard or something in a former life.

And then there were the emails. She always started her day by checking her emails, but she’d started dreading the ones from Abelas. He always gave her a list of things that he wanted her to do, which she didn’t mind at all, but he’d add a bunch of micromanage-y instructions about how she should do those things. Then he’d send a second email with criticisms about the way she’d done things the previous day and how he would do them differently — differences that, in Athera’s opinion, were either less efficient or equally efficient as the way she was doing them.

It was now just before lunchtime. Athera had spent the better part of the morning digitizing the bottom shelf of the first bookshelf in the archive room, and she was in the process of uploading the files to the lab’s shared server. She was about to take a break for lunch while the files uploaded, but just before she left, she’d checked her inbox to find an email from Abelas.

Athera,

You must change the file name format for the articles you have digitized thus far. You have been naming them by author and title consistent with the Minrathous Academic Standards (MSA) citation method, but our lab follows the Arlathan Language Association (ALA) citation method. You must rename the files to be consistent with the ALA standards.

I expect you to use the ALA standards in the naming of all digitized articles from now on.

Abelas

By the time Athera had finished reading the email, it felt like her head was about to explode with frustration. Solas had told her that using MSA standards for the file names was fine. If she really had to rename each of the files one by one, it was going to take her the rest of the afternoon. No, wait – it would take longer, actually, since it would mean she’d have to cancel the current upload to the university server and re-upload them with the proper names. 

Oh Creators, even worse: it would mean she’d have to delete all the files she’d uploaded over the course of the week, rename them on the local drive, then upload them to the server once again. It wouldn’t just take all afternoon: it would take days. 

It was a ridiculous request. A total makework project. Besides, why did it matter if the file names were MSA or ALA standard? Both formats included the author’s last name and the full title of the article or book chapter, so both formats made it equally easy to find the files by using the search function. It made no practical difference whether the file names were MSA or ALA. It was just another example of Abelas being an overly controlling pain in the butt who didn’t seem to trust Athera to do the job she’d been hired for.

She glowered at her screen. She knew she would be better off dealing with this after lunch; her stomach had already started grumbling even before she’d read this email, and Athera was a notorious example of the concept of ‘hangry’, to the point that even Tamaris would avoid her when she was starving. The smart thing to do right now would be to leave the lab, go get some lunch to soothe herself, then come back and have a calm adult discussion with Abelas about why he was wrong. 

She took a deep breath to calm herself, then stood up and started getting ready to go out and buy some lunch. But as she was putting on her coat, she couldn’t stop thinking about Abelas’s email.

Creators, he was such a jerk. Not only was his email unreasonable, but it was so curt and commanding. He kept acting like he could boss her around, like she was his personal assistant who had to do exactly what he said the way he said it, but that absolutely wasn’t the case. She had a clear role here, and by bossing her around like he did, he was being so freaking rude. 

She plonked her purse down on her desk. I can’t wait until after lunch, she thought angrily. She opened her office door and stepped into the hall, then glanced down at the other end of the hall.

Solas was stepping out of his office as well. “Athera,” he said politely. “Are you heading out?”

“I — yes,” she said distractedly. “I was, um. I was going to get some lunch.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is it lunchtime already?”

“Yep,” she said. “It’s almost noon.”

“Ah. Of course,” he said. He shook his head slightly as though at a private joke, then looked at her once more. “I was just going to step out for some fresh air. Would you care to walk together?”

She hesitated. She really ought to go with Solas; he was always pleasant to chat with, and some fresh air was probably a good idea to cool her temper.

She shook her head. “Thanks, but maybe another day. I have to talk to Abelas about something.”

Solas nodded. “All right. I will see you later.” He left the lab, and Athera squared her shoulders as she turned to face Abelas’s office. 

She rapped sharply on the door, and his voice called through. “Enter.”

She stepped into his office, then closed the door behind her and launched right into her complaints. “The email you just sent me about the file names is totally unreasonable.”

He looked up from his computer with a frown – no surprise there. “Excuse me?”

She strode over to his desk and folded her arms. “Your request to change the file names from MSA to ALA is totally unreasonable. Both formats include the same information. The only difference is a slight change in formatting, and it doesn’t make a difference in terms of finding the files later using the control-F function.”

His frown deepened. “Our lab exclusively uses ALA formatting in all of our publications.”

“But this isn’t for a publication!” Athera exclaimed. “This is just for how the digitized files are being stored! Nobody except the people in our lab will see those file names, and nobody but you will care whether the file names are in MSA or ALA format.”

She knew she was being too snappy and that she should pull back, but she was too hangry — sorry, rightfully angry — to curb her tone. Unfortunately, Abelas clearly noticed her tone; he rose slowly from his chair and rested his palms on the desk. 

“You seem to forget that you were meant to check with me before making major changes,” he said in a hard voice.

“This isn’t a major change,” she argued. “It’s just the file names. Besides, it’s not like you had digitized files with standardized names already. I’m not changing anything, technically. I’m doing something new.”

“You still should have checked with me,” he insisted.

“I couldn’t check with you,” she said. “You weren’t here. You were teaching a class. Besides, I told you that you should let me use my own judgment about certain things.”

He narrowed his eyes, then started making his way around to the front of the desk. “You said you would continue to check with me for the first two weeks of your employment here. It has only been one week.”

“Well, you’ve been watching me so closely for this one week that maybe I figured you’d collected two weeks’ worth of observational data by now,” she said snarkily.

He stopped in front of her. “What are you referring to?”

“You know exactly what I’m referring to,” she snapped. “You hovering around me like a vulture and watching everything I do.” She lifted her chin. “I know you don’t like me, okay? You don’t like me coming into your lab and changing things around. But do you really think I’m doing that bad of a job?”

He folded his arms and glared at her. “It is not the work you’re doing that I take issue with. It is your attitude.”

She blinked. “My attitude?” she said blankly. “What’s wrong with my attitude?”

“You are not taking this job seriously,” he said. “You are not treating our work with the respect it deserves.”

She gaped at him. “I — you — how can you say I don’t take this job seriously?”

“You spend half of your time making idle conversation with the other members of the lab,” he said. “Not only are you not performing your own duties, but you are distracting them from theirs.”

“Half my — half my time?” she said incredulously. “I don’t spend half my time making conversation! I’m just being friendly!”

“It is unnecessary,” he announced. “Time spent chatting is time spent not doing your work.”

She planted her fists on her hips. “Is my work suffering?”

He narrowed his eyes, and Athera waved a hand impatiently. “Come on, tell me. Have you noticed that I’m not getting my work done?”

He pursed his lips. “No,” he grunted.

“Okay, then what’s the problem with chatting sometimes if I’m still getting everything done?”

His scowl deepened, but now he just looked like he was pouting. “The chatting is unnecessary,” he repeated.

“Everything you do in life doesn’t have to be necessary!” she exclaimed. “That would be so boring! Besides, you should enjoy the company of the people you work with. If you can’t have a little fun with your colleagues sometimes, then what’s the point?”

He jabbed a finger at her. “That is my problem with you. This is not meant to be fun. This is not meant to be a place for socializing and making friends. This is a place of dedicated study.” He folded his arms once more. “I take the study of ancient Elvhen culture very seriously, Athera, and I expect everyone in my lab to take it just as seriously. You have not been treating our work with sufficient gravitas.”

Athera glared at him. His unfair accusations were raising her heart rate, sending adrenaline pumping through her veins and pounding in her ears, and the way he was looming over her with his big muscly body only made her more annoyed. Seriously, how did a full-time professor find the time to maintain such a muscular physique? 

She gestured sharply at him. “Why do you do this?”

“Do what?” he demanded.

“This standing-over-me thing, like you’re trying to get in my face,” she said. She gave him a knowing look. “If it’s supposed to be a power move, it’s not working. You don’t scare me.”

His pale eyebrows jumped up, and to her surprise, he took a step back. “I… that is my mistake. It wasn’t my intention to overpower you. I did not realize what I was doing.”

She nodded, deflated slightly by his willingness to back down. “It’s, um. It’s okay.”

There was an awkward pause. Abelas was still frowning, but he wasn’t quite looking at her anymore, and she suddenly felt weird looking him in the eye as well. 

She inhaled slowly through her nose, then forced herself to look him in the face. “I got job offers at three other labs, you know,” she said. “One of them was for Professor Genitivi’s lab here at U of O. But I chose to work with you and Solas because I have nothing but respect for the work you do.” She gave him a pleading look. “Do you know how much it means to the Dalish and the city elves alike to have someone from Arlathan actually teaching us about Arlathani culture? Teaching us about the ancient people that we were all born from, even if our cultures are so different now? It’s…” She trailed off and shook her head in wonder. “You and Solas and your colleagues back in Arlathan who have shared their work — you’re giving us information that we’ve never had access to here in the rest of Thedas. I almost wish I was doing my undergrad now so I could specialize in ancient Elvhen studies instead of being forced to focus on the human-centric history of Thedas.” 

She paused. Abelas was finally looking her in the eye once more, and for some reason, his clear golden gaze made her nervous. 

She took another bracing breath. “I have nothing but respect for the work you and Solas and the others are doing here,” she said again. “And now you’re accusing me of not respecting your work here because… why? Because I’m friendly? Because I like talking to people and making friends?”

He frowned but didn’t reply. Athera tilted her head. “Can I ask you something? You haven't read my undergrad thesis about the Well of Sorrows, have you?”

“I haven't, no,” he said.

She nodded, not at all surprised. “I sent it to you and Solas by email when I was hired, because Solas asked me about it. But you’ve never asked me about it once, even though it’s your area of special interest.” She took a small step closer to him. “I’ve read every article you’ve ever written — all the ones that were translated to the common tongue, at least. Your book chapter about the importance of metaphor and poetry for analysing historical Elvhen texts was the reason I wanted to write my thesis on the Well of Sorrows.” She frowned at him. “I respect the work you do here, Abelas. I think your work is fascinating, and I really would love to hear you talk about it more. But you won’t even give me the time of day.” She shrugged. “If you ask me, you’re the one who has no respect.” 

He didn’t reply. The muscles in his jaw were jumping with tension, and a tiny wiggle of anxiety tugged at her belly. Creators, she really should have had her lunch before blasting in here. 

Tired now from her outburst — and from her grumbly stomach — she waited glumly for him to tell her to get out of his office. 

He bowed his head. “You are correct.” 

She blinked. “Huh?”

He pursed his lips. “I said that you are correct. About your respect for our work, at least. You do take our discipline seriously. My criticism in that respect was unfounded.”

She gaped at him stupidly, stunned that he actually was admitting that he was wrong. Then she straightened and folded her arms once more. “You still think I’m having too much fun at my job, though.”

He shot her a flat look. “I can only concede so much. Furthermore, I do not like your music.”

She wilted in exasperation. “Well, why didn’t you say so? I can just use earphones.”

“That is not necessary,” he said. “I bought earplugs.”

She stared at him. He’d bought earplugs rather than telling her off for playing her music? That seemed out of character. 

She had a sudden mental image of Abelas wearing big foam orange earplugs with his sharply tailored blazers, and a snort of laughter escaped her. 

He scowled. “What is so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she said hastily. She rubbed her nose to hide her smile, then looked up at him once more. “So… so the file name thing. Are you seriously going to make me change the file names? I’ll tell you now that it will take the entire day and it’ll delay the upload of the archives to the university server.”

He frowned at her for a moment longer, and she widened her eyes hopefully. He finally ran a hand over his impeccable white braid and sighed. “Fine,” he grunted. “Leave the file names as they are.”

Victory, she thought happily. She straightened and beamed at him. “Okay. Well, I’m going to go get some lunch.”

He nodded and returned to his chair behind his desk, and Athera studied him appraisingly as he settled back into his chair. For someone who was so stubborn all the time, it turned out that he was actually capable of admitting when he was wrong. It was honestly the last thing she had expected. 

But then again, how could she know what to expect of him? Aside from his academic background, she didn’t know anything about him.

On impulse, she opened her mouth. “Would you like to come for lunch with me?”

He looked up. “I beg your pardon?”

He was looking at her as though she’d asked him to help her hide a body, but she stood her ground. “Come and have some lunch with me,” she said. “I never see you eating lunch. Do you even eat lunch?”

“I eat in my office while I work,” he said.

That figured. “Do you bring your lunch from home, then?”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I eat a meal replacement bar and a smoothie from home, yes.”

“A meal replacement bar?” she said. “That’s… not very tasty.” She was going to say that it was sad, but that would seem mean.

He frowned. “I do not eat large lunches. They make me sluggish.”

She smiled at the thought of Abelas getting sluggish after a big meal. It probably offended him to have his body getting sleepy without his permission. “Well, you should make an exception today,” she said firmly.

“For what purpose?” he said.

She gave him a chiding look. “For fun, Abelas. Just this once.”

His frown deepened, so Athera hastily tried a different tack. “Fine then, for a collegial meeting. I mean it when I say I want to hear about your Well of Sorrows work. Will you come and tell me about it over lunch?”

He pursed his lips into a very thin line, and Athera waited for him to say no. But once again, he surprised her.

“Fine,” he said. “I will make an exception just this once.”

She perked up. “Okay, great!” She waited while he put on his coat and tucked his phone into his pocket. He politely gestured for her to step out of his office, and she was oddly aware of his broad shoulders and superior height as he followed her down the hall. But as they left the Ancient Elvhen Studies lab, Athera realized something: she was going to have to make conversation with stoic, stern, silent Abelas for an entire hour. 

Well, this ought to be interesting.

Read Abelas’s POV on AO3!

[ayurileopardsdream]

Prosthetic love ~ Chapter 1

Inspired by @elastigale and @yamino ~ Alternate universe (Non-Super Au, No Bob au, Modern au) 

Description: Girl gets in an accident, meets her future girlfriend through a special prosthetics company. Gf becomes her exclusive engineer.

Author’s note: Warning. Violence, disability. (I don’t have a physical disability nor do I know anyone who does so if I do or write something wrong, please let me know ^^”) (Also Bioprosthetica is not a real company and the name idea was given by a couple of friends mashing thoughts. If they read this, thanks guys~)

Rating: T

Words: 3,030

Au: Non-Supers, Stratogale is alive, Modern!au, Bob Parr isn’t around

Fandom / series: The Incredibles

Characters / Pairing: Elastigirl, Stratogale. (Temporary Edna Mode)

Genre: romance, hurt & comfort, fluff, angst.

Do you want to know how it happened? How it happened without the cape.

At least she was a hero, just the way she’d always wanted. 

It was just another typical Saturday morning. Gail Fowler was just arriving at her favorite queer-friendly coffee shop downtown Metroville. She had more volunteering at the local zoo later, where she loved to be and play and care for the birds. So she was getting her favorite vanilla macchiato, before she headed off. 

What she didn’t realize at the time was the two big burly white American men that walked by with a big brown paper package, set it on the desk, and take off running as if they’d left the oven on. Nobody thought anything of it, especially not Gail, as she walked out of the shop happily, until her back was blown out and she was sent flying across the street when a bomb went off inside the store, sending glass and bricks and smoke everywhere.

Looking back horrified, she tossed her half full cup onto the grass behind the sidewalk and leapt into the fire and flames, feeling more than obligated to help rescue people.

Coughing through smoke, fire and brimstone, cringing at bodies and rubble that lied around, she helped a few other people drag the other 5 survivors out onto the street where they were in open air, and when she dashed back in for the 6th, a loud boom sounded nearby. The rest of the building was going to collapse if she didn’t hurry!

Searching through the mess as best she could, flipping broken tables and heavy building destruction until she found a coughing cashier blocked away in a supply closet about to crash.

“C’mon! We have to get out of here!” Gail yelled over the blaring sounds of the disaster all around. Thankfully the person agreed, and lifting their arm over her shoulder, she helped them limp out to safety. But at the last minute, the building began to shake, and Gail looked in horror. She had a split second to think, and her limbs weren’t fast enough... She clenched her jaws and felt tears in her eyes as she shoved the survivor out, and just like that, the building collapsed in a massive pile of concrete and brick and rubble, and Gail Fowler was never to be seen again.

Just kidding.

The world had gone dark and dusty. Gail was on her back, as she’d jumped backwards when the building fully collapsed, and she groaned and gave a cough, squinting her eyes in the little cave of darkness, made of very squished concrete chunks. It was so hard to see... her ears were ringing, so she could barely hear... great. There go her two main senses. Her head was kind of dizzy, she could barely focus on anything at all. 

Blinking her eyes, she sighed and rubbed her face while sitting in her wheelchair, rubbing the back of her neck in her favorite black turtleneck sweater and now rolled up dirty green cargo pants. Cargo shorts, now. Thinking back on her accident was... extremely painful, to say the least. After a lot of mental and psychological and depressing physical therapy, she’d finally decided after 6 and a half months to look into prosthetics. She missed walking. Running, leaping! And in her mind, in her dreams, flying. But... she couldn’t do that anymore... 

So she wanted a change. She’d set herself an appointment to meet with the people of Bioprosthetica. 

It was just about 9 am. The sun was out, bright and early as she was. It was comfortably warm outside, like the sun giving you a big hug!

An associate and their engineer in training should be arriving soon! The appointment said 9 am sharp. And just like that, a small black haired lady walked out from around a corner, followed by... the most gorgeous young red-haired girl that Gail had ever seen. Gail’s mouth literally dropped a little seeing that gorgeous red bob on that tall angelic head, and holding a big dark green binder that looked very important. What was even better was that the apprentice blushed a little in return and waved a hello by silently wiggling her fingers over the binder and giving a shy smile. Oh my goodness. Cute.

It wasn’t till the small lady snapped her fingers in front of Gail’s face did she shake back into focus and have her face burn brighter than the assistant’s hair. Maybe.

“Hello. I am Edna Mode. You come for fake legs, yes?” 

Immediately her blush went away, and a knot in the pit of her stomach formed. “Yes Ma’am.” She said with obvious sadness.

Edna Mode stared her down, looking her over for a minute, then snapped her fingers, and turned away, walking out of the room as she spoke. 

“Helen Truax, you will work on this woman here. Your first sole project. Measure her, comfort her, build her the legs she needs. No matter the cost.” Then she left the room.

Both women’s jaws dropped after that point.

Helen’s eyes widened in surprise, but she kept her cool only to grip the green binder a little tightly. “Thank you ma’am. I greatly appreciate the opportunity.”

Gail however was just really surprised she’d be left alone with such a gorgeous lady! Her face was burning again!

“So, when do you want to get started?” Helen asked, beaming with excitement, and she’d suddenly teleported  to standing right in front of Gail’s wheelchair. How had she got there so fast?!

“Um. Uhh. Err.” She stammered, leaning back in her chair without the ability to speak.

“Here’s to the start of a new beginning, and maybe a new friendship!” Helen exclaimed, holding out a hand to shake.

Yeah. A new adventure indeed.

They decided to start immediately. Gail didn’t have a lot of plans, she kind of just wheeled around her apartment, used the gym with the landlord to strengthen her arms when she wasn’t at therapy, and she was into bird-watching, and she’d recently gotten into some video games, since she wasn’t really keen on going outside, due to her depression and anxiety and all.

Anyways, she had free time. And when the very cute engineer asked her to go over to her house, she could barely refuse. Let alone say anything at all. 

Helen chuckled at the speechless and blushing and awestruck girl before her, then opened her book, wrote something down, and placed something on Gail’s lap.

“I’m going to go get my stuff. Hopefully you’ll be able to speak when I get back?” Helen teased, stroking a finger under Gail’s chin, before walking away with a sway of her hips.

“Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness. I am so gay.” Gail thought in her head, taking deep breaths and trying to calm her completely red face. Man oh man were her ears burning up. Helen was so friggin cute. 

When she came back with a cute jean jacket over her dark blue and white-dotted dress, a brown clutch over one shoulder, and her eyes half-lidded and looking very... flirty? Gail just ended up blushing again.

“Ready to go to my place? I want to get started immediately. Unless you have other plans.”

“N-no! No plans! I’d love to get started!” Gail explained, literally waving her hands around frantically while being redder than a tomato. 

Helen laughed with a little blush, then looked at her for a second.

“Want me to roll you out? Or you can do it yourself..” She trailed off, but Gail smiled shyly. “You can wheel me if you like.. you know where your place is.” Well obviously! Damnit Gail, think before you speak!

Helen just laughed and tucked a piece of her own hair behind her ear, and then handed Gail the green binder. “Can you hold this for me while I push you? It’s very important, so don’t lose it.” 

Gail nodded, holding the binder close to her chest as Helen wheeled her away. What a lovely day it has been!

When they got to Helen’s house, it was just reaching 9:30 am. It felt a lot later for some reason. The redhead stated that her parents wouldn’t be back till the next day, a business trip, so Gail was welcome to stay the night. The poor girl was completely red the whole time, barely able to speak through her embarrassment and shyness. The poor girl. 

Helen wheeled her in, her house had a ramp already set because of the job, cruddy boards lines up on the steps for now, but it worked. Once the wheelchair was set in the living room, Helen set out all her paperwork, notes and pens and pencils and erasers, all that stuff somehow neatly fit on a large living room table. Impressive.

“Would you like something to eat or drink?” Helen offered, writing something down on a graph before pulling out a roll of measuring tape from a storage container across the room. Guess she worked in here often. 

“M-may I have a glass of water please?” Gail squeaked, poor thing was still completely red. 

Helen almost felt a little bad, this girl was so cute and way too embarrassed. “Hey, you can relax here. You’re okay. No need to be embarrassed about anything. If you need anything at all, any help, food, water, anything, just ask.”

The way Helen’s eyes sparkled as they were so close, and she was offering herself to Gail, her own eyes sparkled and stared right into her own, she was lost in the moment, if there was one. Lost in space, floating, drifting endlessly in her mind, frozen and staring wide-eyed at those gorgeous brown eyes that almost looked red in the dazzling sunlight and-

It was Helen’s gorgeous giggle that brought Gail back to life, making her blush soften, but it was still really there.

“I’ll go get you that water. “ Helen murmured, slowly rising from where she’d been bent over in front of Gail, and sauntered into the kitchen, turning her head and smirking as if to make sure Gail was watching, before getting a cup from a high shelf, on her tippy toes, Gail watched in little awe. She just couldn’t take her eyes off that angel... oh my goodness... did she really just call her an angel?!

It wasn’t till the last second, as if doing gravity and physics multiplications in her head (a meme, not actually) but it was really like everything was in slow-motion, she looked at Helen’s foot in her flats, and she noticed just by a millimeter, like some freaky magic, that she noticed because Helen was stretching up and trying to use all her height, the foot she was leaning on was starting to slip forwards, until it was a second too late.

Helen’s eyes widen as suddenly she slipped on the kitchen tiling and began to fall backwards, her one hand holding the glass and the other going back to possibly reduce the pain in the incoming fall.

But then she didn’t.

Gail saw the foot sliding before it even finished, and the exact second Helen started falling, Gail grabbed her wheelchair wheels and spun them around, zipping into the kitchen and scooping up Helen before she barely even went down.

Both ladies were breathless and beaten red. Both kind of in shock. Helen more than Gail, obviously.

“Y-you saved me!” Helen exclaimed.

“I-I wouldn’t say saved....”  She replied shyly, rubbing the back of her neck while the other held Helen’s thighs on her lap.

“I would.” Helen whispered, leaning closer and against Gail’s chest, then stroked her opposite cheek and pulled her head close, then she closed her eyes slowly and placed a soft chaste kiss upon the cheek closest to her, before letting her go and just smiling innocently upon Gail’s lap, watching the reaction with yet again the cutest of giggles.

As for Gail, her head basically exploded. Gail.exe has stopped working. Her face was completely red again, frozen in the spot. She had definitely stopped working. Was her heart still beating? 

“Um.. miss? Are you okay?” Helen asked, waving her hand in front of the face of the poor dazed lady. Oh dear. Helen broke her. In the best way.

Climbing off Gail’s lap and patting her thigh, she chuckled again, getting the glass of tap water since the sink was right there. Gail snapped back into reality when Helen got off, and again rubbed her neck sheepishly and cleared her throat. 

“Thank you for rescuing me.” Helen said again with a smirk, putting the cup in Gail’s left hand. 

“Y-you’re welcome..” She stammered, and took a drink, which oddly enough relaxed her a little bit.

Helen pushed the wheelchair back into the living room, and got the measuring tape again. 

“Can I measure your residual limbs?” Helen asked, once she was knelt down in front of the wheelchair, holding the measuring tape like a ring, and of course, that playful smile again. 

“Huh?” Gail asked, very confused by the unused term.

“Your... stumps.” It actually made Gail freeze up again, she just, stared, thinking with a blank but slightly surprised face. Nobody had touched them in a long time other than herself. So having Helen ask kind of took her off guard.

“Sure..” She muttered, giving a nod in case it wasn’t clear. Helen nodded back, being extra careful and delicate. She pulled the tape along till it pooled a lot on the floor, then her hands hovered over the limbs, she was nervous, before she gently placed her hand down, gently rubbing to ensure that everything was okay. Concerned eyes looked up, saying all they needed to as she stared.

“I’m okay.” She assured Helen, giving a nervous grin. That was before she was jolted with a completely shocking feeling. Helen’s hands were freezing! Gail’s eyes widened and she clenched her jaws and her fists, in which Helen noticed right away and yanked her arm back.

“Are you okay?! Did I hurt you?!” She yelled, standing up in fear that she’d reignited sharp pains. She definitely wasn’t expecting Gail’s answer though.

“Y-y-you h-have rreeeeeeaaaaaallllyyyyyy cold haaaaands...” Gail stretched out, wiggling her hips in her chair to try and shake off the shivers.

Helen just laughed. Really hard. She even wiped her eyes as she laughed. It was actually kinda cute. “I-I am so sorry!” She laughed, then took a deep breath and recomposed herself. Nope, a couple more giggles. “I’ll be quick.” She promised, brushing Gail’s thighs with her cold hands again, quickly taking measurements of the ends and the roundabout width, before writing the numbers down on her papers, and putting the measuring tape away. But of course, just for fun, she put her cold hand back on Gail’s thigh, giggling at the “Yeep!” that was the reaction. Oh my goodness. So cute. Kind of like a bird!

“Okay. I can start designing right away, but is there anything specific you want? Like a certain height? Any special design on the prosthetic pocket?” Helen asked, looking at Gail with calm but serious focus. Poor Gail got the dizzy eyes as she tried to process all the questions at once, even looking a little jumbled, but she blinked back when she felt Helen’s hand on her shorts, calming her.

“Hey, don’t worry. No rush. We’re taking it slow. Take your time. They are just questions I need to know for the designing.” She explained, and Gail wheeled a little closer to look over the blank page. Only little numbers and notes so far.

“So. We have multiple options, depending on what route you want to take. We could try a 3D printer, and I could actually just get you some super soft fabric and make a makeshift shrinker-sock rather than an actual sock...” Helen was going over multiple options and making poor Gail dizzy! Helen shut up when she realized giving her too many options, and let her have a chance to speak.

“I would just like something comfortable and functional.” She stated matter-of-factly, then thought over the options. “Let’s start with the first stuff first. Regular sock and 3D printing. Then we can go differently if we need to.” A good plan.

“Do you have any socks of your own on you, or should we order a specific custom elastic wrapping through the company?” Helen asked, writing down more notes on the graph paper she’d use to sketch the leg, and also on the lined piece of paper next to it that had bigger font and a lot more notes.

“I threw out all my socks..” Gail admitted sadly, but Helen waved her hands with wide eyes and a frantic look.

“Hey hey! It’s okay! How would you like it if you borrowed some of my socks?” She offered, and she’d never seen this girl get so frantic and embarrassed before! Well, to be fair they barely knew each other.

“If you don’t want to-”

“I’d love to!” She exclaimed, before literally slapping a hand over her mouth with the biggest look of embarrassment ever. Oh goodness. Poor Gail. She looked about to pass out.

“I’ll go get some for you to pick out that are clean and I don’t use.” Helen stood up and left the room for a minute, leaving poor gay Gail to her thoughts. Yikes.

So first off, love at first sight, and if she wasn’t totally crazy, maybe hopefully she felt Helen liked her too? Gosh. Just thinking about it made her blush again.

But someone as pretty as Helen probably had, well, hundreds of guys after her. Girls too she bet. Helen was only with her for the project. Nothing more.

When Helen came back, with multiple pairs, some still with tags on them, and she noticed Gail looked sad! What happened while she left?

“Are you okay?” Helen asked, kneeling down and resting her hand on Gail’s, which rested on her leg. They almost entwined fingers for a minute, before Gail pulled away.

“Let me tell you how it happened, Helen, a while ago. How I lost my legs.”

[khalilhumam]

Universal Voting: Your questions, our answers

New Post has been published on http://khalilhumam.com/universal-voting-your-questions-our-answers/

Universal Voting: Your questions, our answers

By E.J. Dionne, Megan Bell, Amber Herrle, Shane P. Singh, Allegra Chapman, Joshua Douglas, Miles Rapoport, Whitney Quesenbery We hosted a virtual event this month about a new report which calls for universal voting in the United States. You can watch the hour-long video here and read the report here. We had so many excellent questions, some of which we were able to answer during the event, but we didn’t have time to get to every single question. So here are responses to some of the questions we didn’t have a chance to answer: Roughly 100,000,000 Americans did not vote in 2016 because they did not want to. These are the people who concern me. I don’t see anyone doing anything about it and it’s been 100,000,000 forever.  Thanks for this question, which goes to some of the central points of the report. We believe our election laws make it far more difficult for people to register and vote than they should and we propose significant reforms. We obviously believe that making voting a duty will create useful pressure to make it as easy as possible for people to vote and fulfil their obligation. Our election laws are especially difficult for young Americans to navigate, because young people are more mobile than older people. This is one reason why turnout is much lower among those under 45 and especially low for Americans under 30. The good news: turnout soared in 2018 and my hunch is that it will increase significantly in 2020. Nonetheless, we need the reforms we outline to get to full participation. –EJ Dionne, The Brookings Institution Would requiring everyone—including low-information voters—lead to erratic or unpredictable election results? We dedicate an entire section responding to this very question in the report. On principle, we object to the idea that “low-information” voters lack the understanding and knowledge required for voting. We believe that requiring everyone to vote—no matter their education level or political affiliation—will better represent popular will and lead to a far more representative system of governance. Historically, we’ve seen how “literacy tests” and other false measures of “competence” have been used to disenfranchise voters of color and the less well-off. There’s reason to believe that compulsory voting and its complementary reforms would increase citizen knowledge. Resources that were previously used for turning out the electorate could instead be reallocated to educating and persuading voters. Candidates and political parties would need to appeal to all voters, not just “likely” voters. Moreover, we propose enriching our nation’s civic culture by expanding civic education in schools, encouraging engagement in the election process, and conducting widespread voter education campaigns. On the question of erratic or unpredictable election results, it’s hard to believe that elections could be more erratic or unpredictable than they have been recently. In Australia, where mandatory participation has been the law for nearly a century, there is no evidence that their elections are more erratic or unpredictable than anyone else’s. We agree with the legendary political scientist V.O. Key Jr., who wrote in his book, The Responsible Electorate: “The perverse and unorthodox argument of this little book is that voters are not fools.” This view lies at the heart of our report. –Megan Bell and EJ Dionne, The Brookings Institution  If the proposal suggests that people would not be obligated to choose between the candidates and have the option of turning in a blank ballot, wouldn’t going to booths and waiting in line for long hours only not to vote for anyone redundant?   In a word, no. The allowance to abstain from voting but still comply with the mandate to show up (in-person, by mail, or through some online mechanism) is not redundant. We know this to be true from other countries that require comparable actions (participation without selection of any one candidate). In Australia, for example, citizens are required to “present themselves” to polling places for an election but aren’t required to select a candidate. With this 1924 mandate, the jump in turnout went from 60% in the 1920s to roughly 90% today. And the percentage of ballots spoiled or left blank is quite low: in 2010, it was reported to be six percent of cast ballots. This isn’t surprising, particularly since people are often inclined to do the default: In the same way one is likelier to enroll in a 401k at his or her workplace if required to opt-out rather than opt-in, voting can similarly become adopted and habitualized; it becomes likelier for the average citizen to do it when prompted by the government. Moreover, with the requirement in place, states and localities have to take on practices and reforms to ensure voting is actually easier: automatic registration, longer in-person early voting periods, establishment of more polling places, vote-by-mail options (plus elimination of hurdles such as voter ID). Essentially, all states would take on models comparable to those in Colorado, Oregon, and Washington, where wait times are minimal and turnout rates are higher. –Allegra Chapman, AAC Consulting How has this worked in other countries? The application of compulsory voting works differently across countries that currently mandate turnout, of which there are over 25. In some places, such as Australia, Singapore, and the Swiss canton of Schaffhausen, abstention is punishable with a monetary fine. This is generally not too onerous (for example, in Australia the penalty is AU$20). Elsewhere, nonvoting can lead to nonmonetary penalties. For example, in Brazil and Peru, abstention can prevent access to public services, such as loans from public banks or obtaining a passport. A number of countries, including Greece, Paraguay, and Turkey, have a legal requirement to vote but it is wholly unenforced or there are no specified penalties for abstention. Cross-national research shows that turnout rates tend to be highest where abstention penalties are meaningful and enforcement is likely. –Shane Singh, University of Georgia You mention that a “none of the above” option would be added to the ballot under this initiative. What happens if it wins? Even in one jurisdiction? This is an interesting question, though a “None of the Above” (NOTA) option winning an election seems very unlikely. In the report, we draw on two experiences of the NOTA option, the first in Nevada and the second in India. A “None of These Candidates” option has been available on all ballots in Nevada state and federal elections since 1976. Since then, the NOTA vote share in Nevada’s presidential elections has ranged from less than half of a percent to 2.56 percent in the 2016 election. The best national example of widespread use of NOTA is in India. In the first general election after the NOTA was added to the ballot, NOTA votes made up only 1.1 percent of the total vote share. One of the reasons we included NOTA in the proposal is because there is evidence that it actually encourages turnout. A 2020 voter experiment on the effects of NOTA found that including a NOTA option “increases participation and reduces the vote shares of non-establishment candidates.” –Amber Herrle, The Brookings Institution Wouldn’t universal civic duty voting require a constitutional amendment? (Like 13th, 15th, 19th) The Constitution leaves voting to the states — yes? Or would just legislation like the Voting Rights Act work to do it? The U.S. Constitution gives states the initial authority to regulate congressional elections, while Congress has the power to override those rules. Article I, Section 4 says that “The Times, Places and Manner of holding Elections…shall be prescribed in each State by the Legislature thereof; but the Congress may at any time by Law make or alter such Regulations.” In addition, Article I, Section 2 gives states the authority to determine who can vote in congressional elections. States also have the power to regulate their own elections, so long as those rules do not violate a constitutional mandate. So, a state could pass a law to adopt universal voting for elections that occur in the state, whether for president, Congress, or state elections. Although Congress has the power to “make or alter” state rules regarding the “time, place, or manner” of an election, universal voting might implicate Article I, Section 2, which gives states the exclusive power to determine who can vote in federal elections. Thus, it is less clear whether Congress itself could mandate universal voting in federal elections. That is one reason why our proposal focuses on states and even cities within states that have the power to determine the voting rules for local elections. Many voting changes begin at the local or statewide level and then spread to other places, ultimately culminating in a nationwide rule. That’s essentially what happened for the women’s suffrage movement and the 19th Amendment. We see universal voting as an idea that is best tried at the local or statewide level first, and states certainly have the constitutional power to implement this reform. –Joshua A. Douglas, author of “Vote for US: How to Take Back Our Elections and Change the Future of Voting” How would this initiative be enforced? We propose a modest (e.g., $20) fine for not voting, which would not be subject to increases, interest, and civil or criminal penalties. This fee would not be levied upon those with a valid excuse for not voting (e.g., sickness and disability, natural disasters, travel, and religious obligation or belief). It could also be waived through the completion of a small community service requirement. We also recommend that jurisdictions consider using incentives, such as discounted public fees, a refundable civic participation tax credit, or a lottery for which participation in the election is the entry as way to promote turnout. –Megan Bell and Amber Herrle, The Brookings Institution How do you ensure fines don’t fall disproportionately on Black, Indigenous, and Latinx voters under a universal voting scheme? And how could universal voting negatively affect the DREAMERS and other immigrants who may also become targets due to their inability to participate in this initiative? This is a great question and something that the working group considered seriously. There are legitimate fears that state and local officials might abuse the voting requirement to target certain communities. Our recommendations call for legislation carefully tailored to ensure access for all communities and protect against misuse or unintended negative consequences. Immigrants’ rights activists also raised well-founded concerns that inadvertent voting by noncitizens could subject them to unfair penalties. We write in the report that civic duty legislation should include “provisions to ensure that non-citizens and people with felony convictions are protected from penalty if they are mistakenly and unknowingly registered or required to vote.” As with Automatic Voter Registration, legislation must be carefully crafted to protect non-citizens and others who may be ineligible to vote in a certain jurisdiction. Moreover, with universal civic duty voting, election officials are tasked with making voting as easy as possible—resisting voter suppression and dismantling barriers to voting—which means fuller participation from all communities and therefore a more representative electorate. –Megan Bell and Amber Herrle, The Brookings Institution Don’t we need to make it easier to register and to vote first? Yes, absolutely. The proposal laid out in the report includes several complementary and collateral reforms that are essential to the success of universal voting. It would be impossible to have a system of universal voting without expanding opportunities for voter registration, increasing options for voting (including early voting and vote-by-mail), and strengthening election administration. We call for these reforms in the report on our section titled, “Paving the Way for Universal Voting.” –Amber Herrle, The Brookings Institution Do you mean all elections?  Primaries, state legislatures, county governments, municipal, school board, school budget, referendums?  There can be three or four elections in the same year. Is there a danger of trivializing the vote?  This was an important question to address because the United States has far more elections than most other countries. We believe the process should cover major elections, including congressional, statewide, and state legislative elections, with some flexibility given to states and municipalities who adopt universal civic duty voting, in regard to what elections it would cover. We hope that consideration of universal civic duty voting might be a spur to consolidate the calendars of elections, and we recommend that primaries be excluded, because they are party nominee-selecting processes, and not for all voters. –Miles Rapoport, Ash Center for Democratic Governance and Innovation, Harvard Kennedy School Is there any chance of making Election Day a Saturday? What about Election Day as a holiday? Making Election Day a holiday is an attractive idea if we abstract it to a question of how to we make voting a visible and celebrated part of life in a democracy. There are some good reasons to do it, especially if it became a focus for broader civic engagement. Practically, with schools and businesses closed, finding polling places and election workers would be easier if Election Day were a holiday. The challenge, however, is that many people have to work, even on holidays. And those people are often the ones who face the most barriers to voting, so there is a chance that it could increase disparities in participation and increase marginalization. There is also the question of how an Election Day holiday would impact the growing number of people who vote by mail or during early voting periods. In many states, you can already vote on a Saturday (or Thursday or Sunday). Before taking such a big national step, we need to make sure that it would actually meet the goal of increasing turnout. –Whitney Quesenbery, Center for Civic Design

[carnationbooks]

Poppy Alexander Q&A

Back in March of this year, Carnation Books hosted an online party during which we watched a Bruins game with fanfiction author Poppy Alexander. Poppy, who is currently wowing us with her Sherlock Hockey AU Boyfriend Material, taught us about the game, gave us the scoop on her favorite team, and shared her thoughts on her fics and the writing process. We have reproduced portions of this conversation for our followers to read!

Note: The text below has been edited minimally and cut for length and clarity.

Lee:

So Poppy, have you been a Bruins fan your whole life?

PoppyAlexander:

My dad played hockey as a young kid and young man, and he took me to see the B's back at the old Boston Garden! I saw Cam Neely, Ray Bourque, so many greats. The '80s were great years for the B's. No Cups though.

It's currently the only thing my dad and I can relate on--other than his grandkids/my kids. We used to watch the UMass Lowell "chiefs" (now Lock Monsters), those games were local and cheap.

Lee:

Did something in particular inspire you to write Boyfriend Material?

PoppyAlexander:

I have wanted to write a Sherlock hockey AU since 2012. Sherlock as the goalie who reads the whole game, John as "captain"... so I've been cooking it up for a LONG time[...]

Sherlock is a much better goalie :3 [than Tim Thomas]. Sherlock is Tuukka Rask.

[...] John's career story (traded to get a Cup) is the story of a former Bruin (my FAVE), Ray Bourque, who played 22 years with the B's but had to go to Colorado to get his Cup. His playing is probably a bit like our man Tory Krug, though Krug is much younger than John is in the story. Especially since in his early years they didn't require helmets!

Kocur is Chara; tallest player in the league, veteran D. Thurston is Shawn Thornton, former Bruin now playing with FL Panthers, an enforcer. Bouchard is Patrice Bergeron, 37. Mellon is Brad Marchand, 63. Hatch is Tory Krug. Sawyer is Tyler Seguin, now playing for Dallas Stars, probably bisexual, so handsome, but too young for me. Gerhardt was former Bruin Dennis Seidenberg.

See if you can't google a pic of him with his shirt off and you'll see why John liked him.

[Someone in the chat points out Bruins goalie] 

Yeah, watch Rask; that's Sherlock. Cool as a cucumber.

Gary_king:

Does an injury happen in the fic?? I imagine injuries are moderately common 

PoppyAlexander:

No injuries in the fic tus far. Nothing to fight about yet. Nobody wants to take a penalty for no reason.

 Lee:

Why do fights usually break out?

PoppyAlexander:

Breaks the other team's rhythm, the blue jackets and the stars like taking penalties for no reason (ugh bluejackets). sometimes as payback for a "bad" hit on one yr guys. sometimes personal beef (those usually come early in a game)

Sometimes team rivalries, like Bruins and Montreal Canadiens. Fights are nearly unheard of in the playoffs, though; can't spare the players for those penalties.

Colleen:

[...]it seems like goalies are so well loved.

PoppyAlexander:

Very well protected. I love a player puffing his chest at a guy who gets too close to his goalie.

Colleen:

[...] Do they tap Sherlock on the head?

PoppyAlexander:

Yeah, of course. Hockey ritual!

Lee:

Do you read any hockey RPF, or is that not your thing? A few of us ship the cute boys in the penguins, just for fun 😄

 PoppyAlexander:

I do not read RPF.

 Lee:

Before Boyfriend Material, which of your fics is your fav?

PoppyAlexander:

My special baby is always Dissolution: Our Plague Days. Doesn't get as much love because it's rated T. But I love it. I am mad proud of At Night in the Floating World. And Dawn Before the Rest of the World is my happy, safe, cozy place.

 Lee:

What was your first fandom? 

PoppyAlexander:

My first fandom was Duran Duran. Like in the sense of being a swoony lunatic about something. I started writing fic in 1984: self-insert/Mary Sue RPF where I was married to John Taylor. We didn't know it was called fanfic back then, though.

It was just "my story" that I wrote 1000+ pages of in five years. So I forgive the MarySue-ing.

 My first online fandom was Morrissey, in the mid 'Aughties.

 Lee:

How far in advance do you write the chapters for your fics?

PoppyAlexander:

[Boyfriend Material] I started posting when I'd written about 50k, and currently I'm about 30k ahead of where the posted chapters are. I write the draft, then "pretty up" each chapter right before posting. This was a "15k" fic when I conceived it. HA! It will be 100k+ It's a novel. This is what happens when you cook a story for five years

I have not had a chance to mention Sherlock's number in the fic… John wears 18. I wanted him to wear 19 because it's my favourite/lucky number, but then I put Sherlock in #22.

So when they stand together: 2218

Gotta get it in the fic; so far it's only in my head.

 Lee:

Do you have any fandoms besides Hockey and Sherlock? 😄 

PoppyAlexander:

Currently? Still and always The Smiths/Morrissey. Criminal Minds. RuPaul's Drag Race queens. Doctor Who before Moffat took it over and wrecked it.

 Lee:

Do you have a favorite sex scene and a favorite fight scene, from any of your fics?

PoppyAlexander:

I love the Johnlockstrade threesome in Overwhelm. And John and Sherlock fighting/fucking in the church in Body and Blood. It's hot. SO. MANY. KINKS in one place. church, fighting, hate sex, rimming… it really has it all. Lol

 Lee:

I know a lot of the guests are writers too--any tips for writing hot sex scenes? 😉

PoppyAlexander:

OMG, so many. My main tip is subscribe to my blog at PoppyAlexander.com because I'm starting twice-monthly "how to write" series of posts, beginning next week. And one subset of that will be how to write erotica. I think there are some key things.

Have a "word bank" that suits the tone of the fic.

Like, in my really rough smutty stuff I use "cock" and "prick" but in a softer, gauzy 'verse like the 1920s one, I used euphemisms like "length" and "hardness." If it's romantic, loving sex, they might rock or glide, but in lusty, dangerous sex they will thrust and shove.

I think having one strong POV is the key to keeping those pronouns straight. It's hard to explain, but if you're writing John's POV, and you're really in it, you'll kind of automatically make John the default he/him and Sherlock will most often be Sherlock. or vice versa or whoever.

 Epithets are awful. Use their names, I promise it's better. It scans better, makes sense, is not distracting.

I also think it's important to engage all five senses.

Personally, as bad as epithets are transcribed non-word sounds? (Like "ngh") Say grunted, groaned, snorted, hummed, moaned. Oh and Mm and Hm are OK, they're almost words. But ngh! is not sexy, in my opinion. But definitely check in with the sounds, the flavours, smells, temperature, texture… It enriches the scene. And those kinds of things can add to the tone. Like, if the sheets are scratchy and awful and omg I might be allergic to this detergent but my partner is RIGHT. THERE so I can't stop...

 Lee:

Have you ever written with a partner, Poppy? Gary_King and I are writing partners and write together almost exclusively. Have you ever written a fic with someone else?

PoppyAlexander:

I have never written with a partner. I can't even imagine how it would work? Though there are a few writers I would say YES YES YES to and make it work, if they asked. No one has asked to collaborate, though, so. I wait.

 Lee:

What's your editing process like? 

PoppyAlexander:

Well, word processing is itself a kind of first-pass editing.

Write in a notebook with a pen sometime and you'll see what I mean.

But some of the best writing advice I EVER EVER got was to write the draft, start to finish, and at each writing session, DO NOT reread what you've written. That slowed me down so much, and I was constantly tweaking and tinkering. Now I just pick up where I left off.

My editing process is (for long fics) as each chapter is ready to post, it gets a last going-over.

If I have some kind of big epiphany about a scene I already drafted, that will have a major impact on things, or is a big rewrite, I'll go back to it when I think of it and work that scene.

But mostly I just write from start to finish, then go back to the beginning and rewrite.

I don’t work with a beta reader. Every upside-down bit of writing that says "Trust Issues Continue" ever, is about me. So that's not my jam.

 Lee:

[...] Do you ever worry that you'll run out of steam on a fic? How do you keep your motivation going, or what keeps you going?

PoppyAlexander:

I worry more that quality starts to suffer in the third act because one does start to get itchy. You can see the end from there, you know how it's going to end, often writing the climax is challenging, and you have ideas for other things you've back-burnered and really want to get to. So that last third can get shaky if you're not careful.

 Lee:

Do you juggle multiple stories or finish one at a time?

PoppyAlexander:

For some people working on multiple projects works. It does not work for me.

That can turn into seventeen awesome beginnings, thirteen middles, and zero endings.

I do have one other open WIP, a short one-shot, that I work on now and then for fun and will post when it's done, but I work on one thing at a time, no matter the length.

The exception is tumblr ficlets? I write those quite often to warm up for my writing session.

Like I wrote 10 of the 12 days of "Ficmas" on tumblr while I was writing Boyfriend Material, which is like 10k words together, not a small project, but it was not a priority.

And I haven't written the last two!

 Lee:

Do you warm up every time you write?

PoppyAlexander:

Not really. I have rituals that lead to writing, and since scrolling tumblr is part of it, sometimes I end up writing a ficlet or an Ask answer or something, that's like a warmup.

But I have an established habit every evening, sit in the same place, at the same time, do the same stuff, and that time is sacred, and at 9:30ish, my body/brain knows it's time to write.

My productive hours are 9 - midnight. Most nights I write from 9:30 - 11.

If I'm stuck I might listen to a song that puts me in the right mindframe for the story, but I don't write to music. I prefer talking voices to music, so I turn on the TV, or use rainycafe.com .

But usually I just have it quiet if I'm at home. I like the noise of a coffee shop or whatever but I don't write out in the world much except during NaNoWriMo when my word goals are higher.

 Lee:

Sometimes when you write for a fandom as big as Sherlock, you worry your fics won't get seen. [...] Do you have any thoughts on building an audience (besides "write things good enough to make people subscribe to you")?

PoppyAlexander:

I actually do not think I get read that much, in Sherlock fandom. I have loyal readers.

But I don't think I'm that well known. Maybe I'm wrong. LOL. BUT.

To answer that, I'd say I'm a good self-promoter. I think being reliable is a big thing. People know I will finish my shit. I've never left a thing unfinished.

And I'm prolific because of the time I devote to writing.

So I guess just flood the market and bang your own drum.

 Guest:

When you first started writing (anything), how did you push through the writer’s block (and, what I struggle with, plot failure)?

PoppyAlexander:

I don't believe in Writer's Block. Just do the thing. I have never felt blocked. I have felt discouraged. I have doubted the quality or direction of what I'm writing. But the only way out is through, so I just keep writing and the next bit will be easier/better, and I can fix this mess later. But I love writing. I look forward to it all day every day.

 Crysceles:

You may have answered this before, but what do you think is your greatest motivation to write?

PoppyAlexander:

It's just my thing. I've written since I was a little kid, it's just… automatic. It's my art. I just love it. Of course, the wonderful thing about writing fic is instant gratification, feedback, and interaction with readers. I love that and wouldn't give it up.

 Lee:

Do you outline?

PoppyAlexander:

I don't outline in the traditional sense but I make notes and stuff. I kind of write a "treatment" at the beginning so that I always know what's happening next or at least later.

I have a thing I'll be posting on the blog, but there's a three act romance structure I like. The Point of No Return is the plot point [at] the midpoint of Act Two.

You open in the Ordinary World (before I met you). Then there's the Call to Adventure (first meeting) Debate and Denial (Who are you?). A Threshold to Cross (beginning a relationship) throws the characters into Act Two. Progress/"Fun & Games" (getting to know you). The Point of No Return (a deeper commitment), then Complications and Higher Stakes (falling for you). Then we get the Black Moment/Whiff of Death (break up) that puts us into Act Three. the Final Push (winning you back) the Climax (the happy ending), and the Aftermath (together with you).

It's a reliable organizing tool for a love story.

 Lee:

It's more of a framework/tool, rather than a formula?

PoppyAlexander:

Right, it's a framework. Like a skeleton.

Romance is formulaic, with a few exceptions, but having this skeleton to hang it on can help organize a story so it doesn't meander.

 Lee:

Do you have any thoughts on writing a story about an existing relationship? Would you adapt the framework somehow?

PoppyAlexander:

Sure, ignore those parentheticals I put in there, such as "first meeting" and "breakup" and substitute in the plot points in your story that fit. Maybe the Call to Adventure is a partner being offered a job in a far off city and the threshold to cross is asking the partner to move with them. Then the progress/fun and games would be talking them into it. The point of no return would be them agreeing. the complication would be...their credits don't transfer or their mother gets sick...leading to the whiff of death, Can we survive long distance? etc etc. You can use the basic structure to tell any three act story, really.

Carnation Books thanks Poppy Alexander for taking the time to chat with us. We hope you all have enjoyed reading this Q&A, and will follow us for more author chats like this!

For more of Poppy’s work please find her on AO3, and on her blog at PoppyAlexander.com

[dancesontheedge]

An age and a half ago, @tavsancuk tagged me in a 10 characters in 10 fandoms meme.  I am finally filling it.  I have laid myself some ground rules.  I will choose and present to you, in no particular order, my ten favorite male characters.  I will also include explanations for my picks.  I am strongly considering doing a mirror post with my ten favorite female characters with explanations.  Also, some of them are coming with fic recs.  Sorry not sorry.  Most of those recs will route you to FFN.  That, I am a little sorry about.  Since this is explanation heavy, I’ll put it under a read more.

Finn (Star Wars) This fabulous man turns his back on everything he has ever been taught because he realized it was wrong.  He broke more than a decade’s worth of programming to free Poe Dameron, and then he went back for Rey despite his fear of the First Order.  That takes serious guts, and I have so much respect for his character.

have you heard by peradi Finn sparks a stormtrooper revolution.

Jess Mariano (Gilmore Girls) Jess grew so much over the course of the series.  We did not get to see most of it happening, but he went from a really messed up, angry at the world teenager to a well-adjusted and very successful adult (based on what we’ve seen).  Also, though he and Rory had their issues as a couple, he was the only one of her boyfriends who she did not feel the need to change for.

Of Books and Music by once-was-serendipity.  Instead of cutting off all contact with Rory when he left in season 3, Jess sent books with his margin-notes to Rory.  We see him deal with all of his shit. Pay the Piper by Iscah McKrae.  Immediately after Rory’s disastrous visit to Philadelphia, Shane contacts Jess to tell him they have a daughter who she wants not part of.  Jess winds up taking full custody.  Incomplete. Truths Universally Acknowledged by 12cubed.  A Jane Austen report assigned by Mr. Medina spirals out of control as Taylor announces a Jane Austen festival.  Season 2 style Rory/Jess pining. Tide and Moon by once-was-serendipity.  Jess and Rory’s relationship over seasons 2 and 3 plays out a bit differently.  Mostly, Jess get’s his shit together earlier.  Incomplete.

Zuko (Avatar the Last Airbender) Over the course of the series, Zuko realized that his father was evil and everything he had been taught (by someone not-Uncle-Iroh) was either a lie or immoral.  Once he finished being in denial about it, he took action, ultimately changing sides and working to atone for the wrong he had done when he still believed in his father.

Embers by Vathara.  At the beginning of season 2, Zuko discovers the secret of healing fire, and then things get super AU, super fast.  Lots of worldbuilding, and I swear to god this author’s a goddess.  Has been described as “Atla in the style of Game of Thrones, minus the sex” Mismatched by Kimberly T. In season 1, Zuko discovers an Earth Kingdom baby with mismatched eyes.  Because local superstition claims the baby is a witch-child and bad luck because of it, Zuko adopts him.  This speeds his realization that everything he knows is wrong by quite a bit. Incomplete. Second Nature by lazyartisan.  At the end of season 1, Zuko is captured at the North Pole.  Angst ensues.  Essentially, the author upped the stakes and ignored the “kids show” genre.  Incomplete-ish.  The author told the story she wanted to tell, but ends the story at the end of season 2 rather than resolving everything.  She may eventually update again, she may not. Another Brother by AvocadoLove.  Zuko was scarred much younger than in canon and is found by Chief Hakoda almost dead on a Fire Navy ship.  Hakoda takes him in, and he is raised in the Southern Water Tribe alongside Sokka and Katara.

Steve Rogers (MCU) Steve Rogers’ moral compass is so on point it’s honestly terrifying.  His entire morality basically boils down to “I don’t like bullies or trust the people in power not to be bullies,” and honestly that’s the kind of role model we all could use.  He is uncompromising, but he’s right with an alarming consistency.  And he’s genuine, which warms the cockles of my own way-too-honest heart.  (It should, perhaps, be noted that this is why Benjamin Tallmadge is my favorite Turn character and that these traits are reflected in one of my most formative female characters, Keladry of Mindelen.)

Serenade by CSI Clue. Happy fic.  Steve gets a girlfriend and everything is adorable. Choice is Not a Word a Bullet Knows series by bomberqueen17.  Winter Soldier followup, so much poly capfam, at least one really awesome OC. A Pretty Boy with a Bird Tattoo by Kryptaria and rayvanfox.  Steve/Bucky/Nat OT3, punk college AU.  My favorite of their collaborative works (because Nat), but their other stuff (stucky, all of it) is super awesome too.  Source Code by Closer.  Steve is tired of everyone thinking he’s a robot clone or whatever the conspiracy theory of the week is. Freezer Burn series by Domenika Marzione.  Comics/MCU mashup that follows a different Avenger in each of the major stories. Freezer Burn follows Steve, Thaw follows Clint, Revenant follows Nat.

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) Spencer Reid gets put through such shit by the Criminal Minds writers (and the fandom, honestly.  We love to watch him suffer), but he continues to be dedicated to justice and peaceful solutions.  In addition, he is one of the biggest nerds and genius’ on TV, and is generally way less obnoxious and improbable about it than others of his type.  It should be noted that I am not up to date on this show, having missed almost every episode that aired while I was at University, and that I am refusing to watch the current Reid-in-prison-without-his-memory arc.  Because that was a bridge too far.

Foxtrot Whiskey Bravo by Kuria Dalmatia.  Reid and Elle have a friends with benefits relationship.  Very unangsty for my possible Reid picks. The Comstock King’s Daughter by TheKnittingLady.  Reid/OC.  Reid and his date get kidnapped by an Unsub, things go better than they could.  The least depressing/angsty story by this author, the story by this author requiring the fewest content/trigger warnings.  This author is *very* good, but her work is pretty messed up.  Writes almost exclusively Reid-centrics, usually Reid/OC. Liar by Addicted Archangel.  Reid is imprisoned for a crime he did not commit.  Somehow not as angsty/whumpy as the current canon storyline.  Begins with his conviction, ends with his release.

Gilbert Blythe (Anne of Green Gables) Honestly, who doesn’t love Gilbert?  Pining away for Anne and being generally adorable.  No long winded explanation here, but can we all just take a second, think of Gilbert Blythe, and smile?

Blythe Spirit and Unromantic Ideal by Morte Rouge.  The first three books of the Anne of Green Gables Series from Gilbert’s POV.  I promise it’s not repetitive.  Some grammar issues.

Christopher Perry/Halliwell (Charmed) This tortured soul happens to fall right in the middle of one of my favorite tropes: Time Travel.  Chris travels back in time to prevent his older brother, the most powerful witch to ever live, from turning evil and taking over the world.  He lost literally everyone, led the resistance, watched his brother kill his fiance, and when he went back in time was hated by the younger versions of his family for being so driven and not letting them have a life and also for breaking up his mother and father (they, of course, did not know who he was). Also, he’s a sarcastic little shit.  It’s like he’s the definition of my preferred angst-button.

A Pair of Ragged Claws by cunneware.  Wyatt’s most deadly assassin arrives from the future.  It is revealed that she has been magically enslaved by Wyatt, and when that magic is lifted, she decides to aid Chris in his mission to prevent Wyatt from turning evil.  Ultimately, it is revealed that Chris is the sisters’ son/nephew. The Last Horcrux by Stonage Woman.  Crossover with Harry Potter, AU from book 6.  Taking place in the original future where Wyatt is evil, with all the accompanying super-depressing things that come along with that.  Harry is in his 40s, still fighting Voldemort, and essentially adopts Chris.  If you would like to know where my angst-o-meter sits, this one registers at like an 8 of 10.

Edmund Pevensie (Chronicles of Narnia) Edmund is generally a shit in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.  Nobody will argue that point with you.  What’s important to me is how he grows.  He decides to become worthy of Aslan’s sacrifice.  He decides to live up to his sobriquet “The Just.”  He acts to atone for his selfishness and live a life of service.

Harold and Morgan: Not a Romance by rthstewart.  This is super a romance.  Edmund got married in Narnia to a banker from the Lone Islands.  It’s adorable, and I’m quite convinced she’s on the autism spectrum. The Stone Gryphon ‘verse by rthstewart.  The Pevensies deal with being back in WWII England, mostly by being ridiculously badass. Not a whole ton of Edmund yet, but it’s awesome, I love everything about it, and could hardly write Narnia recs and not include it. Letting Go by Lirenel.  Prince Caspian AU in which Edmund arrives separately from and substantially before his siblings because he wasn’t holding their hands at the train station. The Ledbury Run by Maddy Carr. Back in England, Edmund and Peter participate in a cross-country race and find in their path a downed German paratrooper.

Simon Tam (Firefly) Simon had it all.  He had money, he had his dream career, he had parents who were pleased as punch to have him as their son.  He gave it all up to rescue his sister from government experimentation and subsequently became a fugitive.  He has some trouble adjusting, as you can imagine, from golden child to desperate man on the edges of society, but he never considers going back.  Not once.  Because his sister was more important to him than all the accolades he could earn.

Alec Hardison (Leverage) Hardison is a hardened criminal.  Ish.  He takes immense pride in his hacking ability and would be offended if I said he was one of the best in the business.  Because he’s the best. But really, Hardison’s a soft touch.  He was the one most easily convinced to join the Leverage team and use his crime powers for good.  His first heist? Hacking into the Bank of Iceland to pay his Nana’s medical bills.  He decided that the Leverage crew was his family, and promptly adopted them all.  He’s the team-builder, the block they all built on.  He provided the space, he provided the nurturing eye, he paid attention to what his team members wanted and gave it to them.  Though he’s a criminal, he’s the moral center of the Leverage crew.  Also he’s a giant nerd and completely hilarious.

The Justice League Job by Eatsscissors.  Casefic about a stolen comic book. Hardison/Parker.