#I really miss seeing your OC on the dash

[vyrulent]

man there are some people's OCs that were so great that it's been YEARS since they've been around but I still think about their muse.

like rn I'm thinking about someone that had a TX chainsaw massacre oc and he was so awesome! like it's what inspired me to create my own tcm OC. but I just really miss seeing that muse on the dash because he just fit so well into the movies. I just really loved reading their threads and wished they were still around.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.

idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k

warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao

playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo

> in which masterlist!

note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i’d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!

—

I. THE FALLING

“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”

his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.

heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.

he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.

“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”

“sure. should i be worried?“

“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”

you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”

oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.

he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”

“i have an extra toothbrush!”

—

jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.

“can you see if this fits you?”

you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.

“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”

he chuckles. “you forgot?”

“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”

does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.

you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”

but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?

—

the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.

“it’s nice, right?”

he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.

“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”

“is that so? thank you!”

he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.

“and what do we have here?”

jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.

“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.

you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

“goodnight.”

he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.

“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”

—

jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.

he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.

it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.

he flinches.

your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.

he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.

“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.

he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.

he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.

his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.

he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.

“so, so adorable.”

the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.

—

II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR

“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”

you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.

he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”

“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”

“the one you think is lying about being rich?”

“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”

that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.

“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”

“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”

“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”

fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?

“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”

“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”

“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.

yeah, how convenient.

he exhales through his mouth.

when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.

“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.

he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.

—

jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.

“are you okay?”

his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.

“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”

“i can give you a massage. if you want.”

“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”

“hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”

he squints his eyes at you. “really?”

“you don’t believe me?”

you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.

“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”

“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”

he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.

“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”

“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”

he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.

he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”

“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”

“you’re still doing it right now!”

“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”

there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.

“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”

“here? your shoulder blade?”

“yes!”

“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”

it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.

“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”

“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”

—

he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.

“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”

he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” you hum.

the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.

“hey, wipe your drool.”

he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.

“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”

“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”

“that happens a lot.”

“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”

the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.

“goodnight!”

“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.

his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.

“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”

“no, i’m fine.”

he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.

he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.

he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?

“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.

he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.

as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.

he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.

and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.

—

III. THE YEARNING

jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.

instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.

if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.

“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”

“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”

oh my god, what is happening?

“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”

unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.

a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”

two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.

when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.

dangerous because he wants to kiss you.

dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.

“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”

and the door slams shut. you both flinch.

“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”

you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.

“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”

you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”

he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.

“why? are you mad at me?”

“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”

“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.

and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.

“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”

“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”

“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”

he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.

“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”

you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.

perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?

not that it matters.

you cling to his neck and it all melts away.

he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”

“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”

“where’s your key?”

“huh?”

“your key-”

“oh!”

you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.

he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.

—

after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.

“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.

jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.

goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.

“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”

“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”

he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.

“you’re so hardheaded.”

he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.

“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.

you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?

dear god, he hopes so.

—

jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.

he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.

when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.

a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.

the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.

this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.

he feels a weak tug at his sweater.

“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.

next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!

he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”

“i’m cold,” you repeat.

“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”

his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.

you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.

now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.

he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.

he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.

“my makeup…”

you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.

“what was that?”

“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”

he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.

he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.

“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”

he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.

his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.

as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”

—

IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS

“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”

“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”

jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.

“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”

you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”

“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”

a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.

“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”

“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”

“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”

he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”

“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”

“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.

“is it for you?”

“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”

jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.

he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.

“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”

your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.

he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”

“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”

you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.

“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”

“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”

he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.

“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”

he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.

—

V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.

but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.

you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.

“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.

you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”

“mhm? yes, baby?”

you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.

you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”

his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.

jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.

the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.

he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”

“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.

he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.

it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.

“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”

you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“

he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”

you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.

“ye-yes, really.”

“then what’s stopping you?”

he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”

you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.

he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.

“may i?”

the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.

your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.

“may i?” he repeats himself.

he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.

“will you fuck me good after?”

the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.

“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.

you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.

you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.

“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”

“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”

you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.

“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”

hell no, you’re not.

but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.

—

the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.

has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.

you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.

“are you good? do you need anything? water?”

“again.”

his eyes widens. “again?“

“round two.” you giggle.

you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.

“jungkook-” you complain.

“wait!”

you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.

“what is it?”

“i found it!”

it’s the flower.

beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.

he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.

it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?

you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.

the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.

—

“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.

you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.

he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.

“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”

“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”

he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.

“at least eat first!”

“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”

“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”

“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”

“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.

he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.

“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.

“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”

—

VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME

“i missed you.”

you giggle. “you look drunk.”

you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.

he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”

“then go to sleep!”

“i don’t want to!”

he opens one eye, peeking at you.

“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”

“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”

while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.

“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”

you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.

“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”

you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”

“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”

“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”

you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?

“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.

“i’m not!”

“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.

it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.

“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”

there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.

“wonder about?”

“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”

you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.

“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”

“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”

“it’s not a big deal!”

“go on then. i’m listening.”

“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”

the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.

“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”

“baby, what are you even saying-”

“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”

“but they’re not you!”

he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.

“it’s really as simple as that.”

“but when we weren’t official yet-”

“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”

you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”

“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”

he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.

she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?

but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.

oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.

you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.

you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.

you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”

“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”

“how would i know?”

he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”

he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.

“he’s still awake, right?”

“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”

you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”

“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”

“wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”

“aw, my love…”

he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.

“just close your eyes.”

and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.

“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”

but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.

you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”

“i won’t unless you go back with me!”

this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.

with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.

taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.

“need anything?”

“all the videos you have of him drunk!”

“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”

—

VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY

“give it to me.”

the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.

relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.

the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.

jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.

he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.

his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.

“my love, why are you sad?”

you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.

“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”

his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”

“really? how’d you know?”

“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”

“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”

“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”

“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.

he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.

“you have me. what’s wrong?”

your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.

“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”

he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.

“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”

it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.

“you’re my reason to live too.”

“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”

“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”

“i will die eventually.” you grimace.

“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”

“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”

you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.

“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”

“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.

the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.

“why am i getting upset?”

“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”

ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.

“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”

he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.

“what then? are we supposed to die together?”

he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”

“wow, very shakespearean of you.”

“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”

“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.

jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.

“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.

“thank you?”

“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”

“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”

“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”

cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.

he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.

he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.

the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.

he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.

it’s time to sleep, he also decides.

he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”

—

(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)

[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]

“is it rolling?”

“yes, it’s rolling.”

you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.

your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.

the lens zoom in on your face.

childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.

“am i doing it?!”

“you are!”

“really?”

“really!”

“is it pretty?”

your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.

“let me watch!”

the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.

rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.

“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”

“why?”

“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”

[scribbledswans]

so like

uhhh what should I put here...

ocs... something to spite even more on dusekkar because I hate that pumpkin (it sucks that I like his gameplay though...)...

anyways

dusekkar angst that's it /silly

-Restless

(the master at spiting on dusekkar)

(what'd bro do to you 😭💔)

✧ distorted visage

Dusekkar has commit the warmth of your smile to memory. You have commit your corruption to making sure that memory is an open wound.

Warnings: Angst, Canon typical violence, Descriptions of blood.

what the hell, sure. ( this work is also up on ao3 )

And it was all going fine, until you showed up.

Dusekkar's hands tremble quietly, gripping his staff like a lifeline as he watches you cut down each of his allies; You're quick and precise, leaving no room for error as you run through Builderman first, then Shedletsky— picking off anyone who could've had a chance against you in the final moments of the round.

He tries, he tries his hardest, to protect the remaining few, but your movements are just too unpredictable and spawn protection can't last forever. For the first time in a long while, Dusekkar feels painfully useless. It only takes a few moments before Elliot and Two Time are brought down, leaving him alone against someone he knows he's no match for. He can't help but wonder how this became of you, someone who he once knew to be so caring and kind, reduced to such an efficient and blood-hungry villain.

He remembers your smile as something that was once pure and sweet— and it doesn't take long for that memory to be corrupted by your manic grin when you dash towards him. Blood dampens the clothes on your body, a trail of fresh sanguine from Two Time's mangled corpse following you as you chase down the Mage. An unbelievable grief wracks his body; there is no doubt in his mind that this is his own doing.

As Dusekkar turns to zap you with the magic of his staff, you grapple him to the ground, the blood of his friends staining his robes as he desperately tries to fend you off.

"Hey pumpkin! Aren't you happy to see me?" You cackle, "I missed you!"

He does not respond to you, feeling his staff creak and crack at the pressure youre bringing down on it with your own weapon. The flame in his head reels with agony at the sight of your crazed glare, such a loving nickname now twisted to be a mockery of the relationship you both had, once.

A sharp pain pierces his side as you sink your second blade into him, pinning him to the ground beneath your bloody form. He grunts, attempting to shove you off of him with the staff, only for it to snap in two against your strength.

Once the staff is broken, you toss the pieces to the side, carefully bringing your red-soaked hands to the jack-o'-lantern acting as his head. The act is... Unusually gentle, blood smearing against the surface of the pumpkin as you bring one hand to his antlers, forcing him to look you in the eye.

"I really, really missed you, Dusekkar." You say quietly, gaze softening. You trace a finger around the lip of his carved mouth, the act a depraved mockery of the affection you once held for him.

He's ashamed that it even still works on him.

"I'm... sorry, dear." Dusekkar murmurs into your hand, letting the fire in his skull dim out, "Death grows closer. I'm glad youre here, It'd be much colder."

You stay quiet, moving to cradle his head in your lap. Theres a gentle familiarity to the action, despite the viscera dried to your clothes and the sickening smell of iron that haunts the air surrounding you. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine that everything was normal. He yearns for something that is no longer completely there, something lost to time and corruption that will never come back to him. Dusekkar yearns for you, despite bleeding out in your lap.

When his light fades, he flickers back to reality in the cabin. Agony cauterizes his abdomen as he stares at the ceiling, knowing that seeing you again was an inevitable pain he'd grow numb to. How unfair is that?

[lynnie-s3all]

HELLO HELLO !! I LOVE YOUR HEADCANONS VERY MUCHHHH !><

I JUST WANTED TO ASK IF YOU COULD DO HEADCANONS OF SHEDLETSKY BEING A FATHER TO THE PLAYER !!

IF YES, THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!

SURE. I give you two options...

Father figure Shedletsky x reader

(i don't proofread my works so thanks. )

If you're the player who's a Shedletsky main:

For a player, it's obviously you in real life trying to play Forsaken in roblox. ON YOUR COMPUTER/PHONE.

You're a Shedletsky main, and you adore this man of course, for being silly little patootie epic emoji on his face.

Imagine the devs would give him voice lines, really fucking cool if it does exist. Well what can I say if he was giving out advice?

Like what would I think about him just reading your mind at that one point he's straight out giving you advice so you can stay focused on the game? Hell yeah.

It's okay if you tried many times to use the slash and keep missing it out, like what can i say? He would know that he's inside of a game and it really wouldn't hurt if he did get killed. Maybe not? But he'll probably say dialogues like "be careful not to get too close!" Sounds basic? Definitely is.

Hey... whatever you're trying to do some stupid stunts like... Accepting your fate that you're basically going to die as Shedletsky, fair enough. Do anything you can anyway. He's the not the one controlling himself, it was you. So, do what you can.

When you're the survivor in the game:

Woohoo! New survivor? Omg, it's your self insert oc in it!

Ok you're definitely not noob in this situation, IM NOT TELLING YOU ARE A NEWBIE IN THE GAME IM TALKING AB THE YELLOW ROBLOX AVATAR-

So what traits do you have or abilities? You're a stunner? Whatever the wiki says : "sentinel survivor"? Yeah. If not then probably the one whos a support survivor at the same time. But then again, you can't have more than 2 jobs at once you need at least one skill that you can do.

Oh you're almost dying? He can't give you fried chicken, dude. Atleast you're LUCKY he has a medkit at all costs.

This feels more like best friends trying to help eachother out raher than Shedletsky trying to be a father figure or something, like first of all, i can explain how is he becoming one, you just need to wait when i finish explaining this whole survival round.

After you patched yourself out, jason was all in out here already dashing towards you and he stepped in and SLASH! He's stunned guys.

He grabbed you by the wrist and just ran all away out from him to escape before be regained back his ability to even run out and get you dince it's only a minute left, it will be fine for you two.

ALWAYS, AND I MEAN ALWAYS LETS YOU TO BE BEHIND HIM AT ALL TIMES. He doesn't want you to get lost and lose you since, you're the only two are in this round left, jason was too powerful to kill people like ngl since when did he become so op...?

Hahathe last few seconds before he can even hit you has already ended and now you're safely back into the cabin like usual.

You know, now it's time for me to give proper headcanons for this man being so caring.

all text are in orange for this because that's what im about to headcanon him out to be honest.

As a father figure, his goal was to protect you at all costs, no matter in what situation, especially when it comes to killers, stay behind his back, even if you insist on trying to help him out too but he will eventually try his best.

Okay but during cozy times or just free time, he would cook some chicken and give some to you, because sharing is caring, apparently.

Anyway he treats you like a child, telling stories about this one infamous hacker named 1x1x1x1 (yes and he's traumatized after seeing him during other rounds) that he's evil even though he's the one who sreated him in the first place but he never tells you about it because he doesn't want to show the truth to you.

Going out with him during errands and seeing a cat out of nowhere, he'll steal them and keep it as a pet. I mean, it's a stray cat, i think you can make in inti a house cat. He knows how to tame them don't worry.

He adores kittens more than adult cats, but FAT CATS??? Ohhhhh look how much they are soooo chonky he really likes them :3

He can have as many cats as he likes but he wouldn't want a lot since the house would be covered with fur everywhere. He only owns one because he hates risking for having 2 cats in the house and made a whole mess. Amirightttt?

Best father figure ever.

[elodieunderglass]

you may have answered this already and i just missed it, but i was curious when/why killie retired from being a jockey! was there a particular injury that did it for him?

alsooo. wanted to ask if you would like fanart of killie, because every time i see him on my dash i get more tempted to draw him :3c

Jockey OC Killie will eventually have to retire from riding horsies in a big circle, not so much because of what Killie would consider a career-ending injury, but because of his boyfriend putting his foot down completely after a completely minor injury that a jockey would take in his stride (ha) concussion scare. He would still do some of his risky related hobbies like casual point-to-point or team relay chasing, because Killie would not cope well with Horselessness, or a life that involves Not Going Fast. But Derek would get very freaked out by the reality of a profession that considers his boyfriend’s body to be so disposable, and has enough force of character to make it a Thing, like, “we are DONE with this being your day job.”

A large difficulty is that horse racing is a fairly problematic sport, with outbreaks of corruption, abuse, crime, cruelty, gambling, addiction, and violence. This is beautiful to me because of 🤌 the drama, but I also acknowledge The Horrors. So I feel there’d have to be some kind of theme/arc around Killie’s retirement that I haven’t really thought about yet; something that holds up a mirror or a light. Horse racing is one of the oldest continuous sports of humanity, as old as our relationship with horses; is it going to collapse in our generation because of unbridled (ha) greed?

I would be so so grateful and amazed if you wanted to draw the wet ginger stray cat in any capacity, oh my goodness, I will reblog it and enshrine it in my house

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Oh myyy Scully’s nothing like how I thought he would be, man’s such a charmer 😳 It’s been so fun seeing people draw and write about how their OCs would react to his forwardness so I wanted to ask how you think your own OC would react to him? :>

[Referencing this post!]

I KNOW, RIGHT 💀 He speaks in such a formal way, it’s surprising??? Like he uses -san even for the first year students and other really old fancy verbage… And he’s very friendly (?) right off the bat??? (In my culture, such a thing is unheard of…) Kissing strangers, calling them “my dear”, daydreaming about hand holding??????? IS HE OKAY 😭 cbjdbwosuxosm At the same time, I’m very pleased with how whimsical Skully is, I think he captures the romantic (idealized reality kind of romantic, not love romantic) spirit of Jack Skellington very well.

I think if Miss Raven were to meet Skully (assuming the same manner that Yuu met him), she would at first think she’s dreaming since he speaks and acts similar to those gallant, dashing kind of guys she sometimes pens. What would really set her panicking is the kiss to the back of the hand. That sensation feels very real and is something she fantasizes about thinks of as really embarrassing. Once Miss Raven gets over the initial shock and adjusts to Skully’s eccentric personality, I think they’d actually get along really well! He’s such a dork for Halloween and she’s super into hearing new stories. I’m sure Miss Raven could sit and listen to Skully mouth off about Jack Skellington for hours 😌 Then they can fangirl together—

And then dhjsbsksjso L*ona gets annoyed with her for so easily being taken in by a newcomer… “How gullible can you be, Canary? Is a smiling face and a few sweet words all it takes to get you to wag your tail?” J word stands in the back watching this all go down (hey, free entertainment for him) while egging L*ona on... “Now, now, Leona-san, it’s not our place to interfere with the beginnings of new friendships. Perhaps she simply finds Skully-san’s company more pleasant than ours.

To remark on the other SSRs because I feel like it, Sebek angrily tells them to stop dawdling over nothing of real importance, how dare they waste WAKA-SAMA’s precious time when they should be investigating how to get home! (He actively tries to be a physical barrier between Miss Raven and Skully, who are both giggling about Jack or something.) Jamil has his hands to his temples, knowing that this will be another massive headache to navigate around (but still tries to mediate anyway). His suffering is truly never-ending…

[enluv]

the couples quiz <3

PAIRING! bang chan x fem!idol reader

SYNOPSIS! - back with enluv productions, we have our favorite idol couple to take the enluv couples quiz! - this consist of a multitude of questions asked by each of them to test how well they know their partner! enjoy <3

word count: 3,310 (and it’s all fluff 😁)

genre(s): interview styled writing + video layout chic (?) & so much fluff like it’s so cavity inducing you may need to call a dentist 🤭

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, both idols, profanity, nervousness, and I am pretty sure that’s all! (if I missed something lmk!)

coco’s love note: idea is based off the gq couples quiz videos !! please note that our reader is in an oc group I’ve made :)

[ video preview begins now – our idol couple are shown sitting comfortably in two opposing director chairs ]

Y/N: What’s our contact names on each others phones?

Chan: Oh that’s easy I have her as (he makes quotation marks with his fingers) “Y/N L/N” and in parentheses (he cups his hands to express them) “gf”

[the room falls silent as y/n stares shocked at chan]

Y/N: There’s no way…you’re so lying right? (her eyes are widened with shock)

Chan: Of course I am baby! Why would I ever just have you as your name? I have you as “future ms.bahng” (he smiles proudly displaying his contact name for y/n and her contact photo)

Y/N: I almost threw these cards at you for real Christopher! Don’t ever do that again!

Chan: What’s my contact name?

Y/N: Bang Chan dash Stray Kids. (she stares deadpanned at the camera before giggling at his expression)

Y/N: Now you know how it feels! I have you as “my love” it’s a bit simple but I just really love you.

[ end of preview - the screen cuts back to the couple as they first start the video and it begins ]

Y/N: I’m Cupid’s Y/N!

Chan: and I’m Stray Kids Bang Chan!

Y/N & Chan: and we’re taking the enluv couples quiz!

[the couples quiz logo pops up over them to signify the start of the interview – y/n’s questions are first]

Y/N: What’s an item of yours I always seem to steal?

Chan: Oh that’s obvious, she always steals my hoodies. All the colorful ones go to her!

Y/N: Correct! His fans always tell him to wear color but I think I’ve stolen everything with a decent amount of color on it…oops? Sorry stays!

Y/N: What’s something I always bring with me on tour?

Chan: Hmm well there are a few ways to go about this. You could be asking like sentimental items or like necessities.

Y/N: I wrote a list so if the items you guess are on it I’ll give you a point.

Chan: Oh god. (he shakes his head and looks up to show he’s thinking) I would say probably your first aid kit bag. She’s pretty clumsy and needs to have a band-aid on her at all times.

Chan: Oh also probably our son. Oh! I know the most important one is definitely your headphones. You don’t ever leave the house without them.

Y/N: Channie I think you need to elaborate on what our son means (she laughs pointing towards the production team) because they seem worried.

Chan: Oh right. Y/N and I have matching plushies that we won each other on our…hmm I think it was our fifth date? I took her to an arcade and they had claw machines. She got me a psyduck plushie it’s really big and I got her a bunny plush. We call them our sons and usually I’ll take the bunny and she takes psyduck. We care for them equally though! We aren’t absent parents!

Y/N: Okay you were right about all of those, you’re missing one thing though. This one is the most important one.

Chan: Babe…I thought I hit them all seriously…gimme a hint pleaseee….

Y/N: It’s something you gave me.

Chan: I’ve given you a lot of things Y/N.

Y/N: Can I just tell you?

Chan: No! I wanna guess.

[a compilation of chan guessing is played in x2 speed, y/n continues to answer no as he guesses]

Chan: I give up! Tell me.

Y/N: It’s my bracelet! (she laughs softly at his expression)

Chan: Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot about our bracelets!! (he holds up his right hand so the camera can see) We have bond bracelets!

Y/N: When you touch them it sends the other person a small vibration and it means that we’re thinking of or miss the other. They’re really nice since we work a lot and don’t see each other as often as we’d hope.

Chan: I touch mine a lot.

Y/N: Mhm he does, but so do I so I’d never complain.

Y/N: Have I ever written a song about you? And if the answer is yes, which one is my favorite.

Chan: Yeah, plenty of them.

Y/N: Woah okay no need to expose me sir.

Chan: Babe I’m not exposing anything, it’s kinda obvious…

Y/N: Just answer the question Chris.

Chan: “two souls” is your favorite and I know that because you worked on it for almost three months then gave it to me on my birthday.

Y/N: He’s right. That song is my baby, it’s so personal but I just really love it so much. He kept trying to sneak into my laptop to listen to it but I caught him every single time! He cried when he first heard it though so it was worth hiding.

Chan: I thought we promised not to talk about that sweetie.

Y/N: Next question!

Y/N: What was my first concert?

Chan: Oh man. I don’t think I know this one babe.

Y/N: Channie I promise I’ve told you the answer to all of these questions.

Chan: Okay can you tell me how old you were?

Y/N: No.

Chan: Please prettty? I think I’ll get it if I know how old you were!

Y/N: I was sixteen almost seventeen. (y/n sends the camera a wink)

Chan: OH! I’ve so got it then. I know it!

Y/N: Okay who was it then?

Chan: It was Seventeen sunbaenim!

Y/N: Ding ding ding! Correct!

Chan: I always forget how big of a carat you are seriously. She loves them. The kids are friends with them so it’s wild to see her interact with them.

Y/N: I’m good friends with them now, perks of being an idol, they always tease me too.

Chan: Who did you bias?

Y/N: Some secrets should never see the light Channie.

Y/N: NEXT!

Y/N: What’s my favorite food?

Chan: It’s Chipotle but you get the most mundane thing ever so you always throw in a side of chips and queso because you’re scared the workers roll their eyes when they see your order.

Y/N: That…what oddly specific…why did you expose me like that omg…embarrassing!

Chan: Babe you recite exactly what I just said every time you order Chipotle, literally word for word I know it by heart now.

Y/N: Feels like he’s attacking me a bit right guys (y/n turns to the cameras as if asking the audience)

Chan: I am not! You have said that to me a million times! It’s seriously engraved in my head.

Y/N: NEXT!

Y/N: What’s my favorite song that you’ve written that’s about me?

Chan: I know the answer but if I say it then fans are going to have a field day on twitter.

Y/N: How would you know? Been on twitter recently Chris?

Chan: (he stares at the camera and winks) I don’t have twitter, you know, idol things and all those logistics.

Y/N: Should we answer the question together?

Chan: Stop cheesing so hard, you did this on purpose didn’t you.

Y/N: Yes I did. Ready? 3…2…1!!!

Chan & Y/N: Red Lights

Y/N: What can I say! It’s a good song.

Chan: Is it my turn yet? I need to seek revenge.

Y/N: NOPE! Still me!

Y/N: How many pets do I have and can you tell me in which order I got them?

Chan: This is terrible because she had pets even before getting with me.

Chan: Okay here it goes. You have three pets, first one is Pickles, he’s a greyhound. Next would be Peanut, he’s a fish and he has a brother named Jelly. They count as one because they’re a pair, and finally we have Kimchi and that’s our gecko, I named him. (he smiles proudly at the camera)

Y/N: Four points! Wow babe good job!

Chan: What kind of dad would I be if I didn’t know our kids names?

Y/N: So true like imagine you forgot one I’d be so mad.

Chan: I know that’s why I got them all right.

Y/N: What’s my dream wedding look like?

Chan: I also know this answer, we talk about it a lot.

Chan: You want a small wedding with the most important people in your life, so like family and friends but also people who have helped you in your career as well. You want a summer wedding and want a pastel creamy green color to be the theme. It’ll be inside but you really liked the forest vibe from Twilight so the inside will be decorated to look like the woods.

Y/N: Okay woah. Do you have access to my Pinterest or something?

Chan: You say that like we don’t talk about getting married all the time. (he smacks his lips playfully at her)

Y/N: I am in love with you, seriously like on god dude.

Chan: Stop saying on god after you tell me you love me, we talked about this!

Y/N: He doesn’t like it because he says it sounds like I’m talking to a brother.

Chan: You sound like my nineteen year old sister!

Y/N: and I love her very much! We went shopping last time we went to visit them.

Chan: and you bought her $800 shoes.

Y/N: What can I say, I love all the bahngs!

Y/N: Last question Chris, let’s see if you get this one right! What was my first impression of you!

Chan: Oh you’re going there? I see how it is. (he fixes himself to sit straight up and looks at the camera) Our fans don’t know this story but Y/N hated me.

Y/N: (laughing to herself and gesturing to the crew again) They look so confused! He made it sound so bad, I just thought he was one of those really weird guys because, so basically we met at an award show and his group, Stray Kids, had been seated next to us.

Chan: We were so close we could touch arms.

Y/N: No truly! And it was funny because his entire group, and if you don’t know, they have eight members in total, all got up and went to the bathroom together. All eight of them! It was hilarious, I’d never seen any group do that!

Chan: We like to stay together. Safety in numbers!

Y/N: They came back after a while and almost missed getting their award. It was just so odd to me at the time but after that we started talking as the show went on and I thought he was super sweet and obviously he cares for his members.

[the couples quiz logo pops onto screen as the video depicts chan at the center, he flashes an excited smile at the camera]

Chan: Is it finally my turn? I’ll be honest I don’t have that many questions…but they’re pretty hard to answer. I don’t know if Y/N will be able to get them right.

Y/N: Don’t antagonize me Christopher! I know everything about you.

Chan: We’ll see about that.

Chan: First question! Before we went on our first date I had originally planned something else but it fell through, what was it and why didn’t we do it?

Y/N: Woah you’re going BACK.

Chan: Mhm, answer the question baby.

Y/N: This is a funny story that not everyone knows actually. Chan loves doing crazy things like he doesn’t do traditional dates ever, it’s always something outrageous that you least expect.

Chan: I want things to be memorable, plus if I have free time I don’t want to spend it sitting around, I want to go out and do things.

Y/N: He originally wanted to take me bungee jumping, (the camera pans to a laughing chan and the staff can be heard gasping) can you believe that! Bungee jumping for a first date!

Chan: It would have been memorable though, right?

Y/N: Yeah definitely. It didn’t happen though because he heard from a mutual friend of ours, Minnie, that I was really scared of heights.

Chan: I canceled the day super quick, the date was in two days and I called and had to cancel but I was honestly grateful I found out because imagine if I hadn’t known and took her to it? Memorable first date but not in a good way!

Y/N: I think maybe now I’d do it, but only if he’s with me because I trust him the most.

Chan: Wait really? Wait we’ll talk about this later, finish the story!

Y/N: Right! He took me swimming instead, it was a indoor private pool place and it was so much fun. He actually taught me how to swim.

Chan: It’s one of my favorite memories because I just knew I’d be asking her to be my girlfriend.

Y/N: Stop I’m going to cry if we get into this again!

Chan: I told her this last time we talked, how I knew she was the one for me our first date. She cried and then called her mom to tell her.

Y/N: My parents love him, maybe more than me to be honest.

Chan: What was the first achievement we got as a group that made me feel like I had made it?

Y/N: This feels like a trick question.

Chan: I promise it’s not.

Y/N: There are two answers because your first win is so memorable that I’d pick that one but you also always say you haven’t made it, because you’re still going, still reaching and setting goals and achievements for yourself.

Chan: You worded that perfectly. She’s right. First win on a music show was huge for us but honestly as a group we have a lot of goals and want to achieve them all, I don’t know if we’re ever going to truly feel like we’ve made it but seeing our fans celebrate our achievements always makes it feel like we’re heading in the right direction.

[the camera shifts and pans to y/n running her thumb on the back of chan’s palm, she whispers something in his ear before they continue]

Chan: What was my favorite sport growing up?

Y/N: Easy! It was swimming and you were really good at it.

Chan: Don’t say that they’re going to believe you.

Y/N: Babe I’ve seen those awards your mom has lining the walls of your house, trust me, you were good.

Chan: My dad owns a swim school so I swam a lot as a kid and naturally went on to compete at meets and stuff. If I wasn’t here doing this, I’d be a swimmer.

Y/N: He’s really good at it, and he taught me how to swim so like he’s a good teacher too.

Chan: I can’t believe I taught you to swim that memory is so engraved in my mind.

Y/N: Mine too! I could not learn for the life of me and then suddenly on my first date with him he taught me. That should tell you how good he is at swimming.

Chan: I don’t know if I’m good now but back then I wasn’t terrible.

Y/N: My boyfriend is so humble!

Chan: What’s one thing that you hate that I do but I love it?

Y/N: Sleeping in the recording room?

Chan: (he lets out a sarcastic laugh) Ha Ha Ha. Close but no.

Y/N: I don’t know, I don’t hate anything you do honestly.

Chan: Want me to tell you?

Y/N: You so want to tell me.

Chan: I do.

Y/N: Tell me.

Chan: It’s when I spend too long in the studio, so long that you have to come get me.

Y/N: You’re so….(she’s cut off by chan’s laughter)

Chan: Let me explain before you blast me in front of everyone!

Y/N: Mmm…go on…

Chan: I know you hate coming to get me but some of my favorite times are when you come because then we spend hours together listening to things I’ve made or messing around and recording things. It’s nice to have you so interested in what I do because I love you and I love music, it’s like my two favorite things are interacting and meeting one another.

Y/N: I hate you so much! You know I’m a sap, I’m going to cry you meanie, that’s so cute what even is this!

Chan: My revenge worked!

[the video cuts to the next clip and the viewer can see that y/n now has a tissue in hand]

Chan: Next question, who gave me advice when we first started getting to know each other and dating?

Y/N: Was it not one of the boys? You said you told binnie first no? So I’d assume him.

Chan: Nope! Guess again.

Y/N: No? Hmm I don’t know…maybe one of your other idol friends?

Chan: It was actually our choreographer.

Y/N: What? Really? Why?

Chan: They saw how stressed I was because I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend officially and it was making me distracted so they sat me down and made me spill what was bothering me. Funny too because when I told them they told me to just go for it, and I did and then later on they told me they were glad I had because I looked so much happier.

Y/N: Wow this tissue is being used to its fullest today. I am making a mental note to buy them anything they want right now like wow, imagine if they had never told you to just do it. Where would we be?

Chan: Still sneaking around to hang out as “friends” probably.

Chan: Final question, what’s the title of our new collab song coming out?

Y/N: Oh you’re terrible, did you even get permission to reveal this?

Chan: No but I feel like it’ll, a) this will be out by the time we announce it or b) I don’t have a plan B since I’m hoping plan A is successful!

Y/N: Stay please pray for your leader, he’s so going to get us in trouble for this!

Chan: Don’t say that pretty, have some faith in me.

Y/N: Our collab song is called “Here for you,” and it was written and produced by us.

Chan: It’s a love song if you didn’t guess that.

Y/N: I think they got that one babe.

Chan: Making sure they know it!

Interviewer: Can you tell us a little about the song?

Y/N: Well like Chan said, it’s a love song. It’s about finding the right person and immediately knowing they’re the one.

Chan: Immediately knowing they’re your person.

Y/N: We wrote it one night in the studio after fighting, nothing huge but we both had a bad day and it was intense, when you’ve been with someone for a while you have those days you know? He wrote something down to blow off some steam and so did I. We realized that we’d wrote one half of a song each. Then we put it together, fixed it up and made it that night.

Chan: It’s a really special song to us both, that’s why I’m so excited to announce it.

Y/N: We’re really excited to have you all listen to it.

Interviewer: Well thank you both for coming. We appreciate you making some time for us! 

Y/N & Chan: Thanks for having us! (they send a smile to the camera and bow in thanks to the crew)

Y/N: We had a lot of fun today, really thank you.

Chan: Maybe we will come back in like ten years, married, and all that and do it again!

[ the camera zooms out and in fades the couples quiz logo, you can see the couple as they whisper to one another after the director yells “cut” ]

ENLUV EXTRA:

Chan: Why do I love Y/N? That’s a big question to ask, and if I named all the reasons we’d be here for a long time, to put it simply she’s my soulmate, I don’t think there is anyone else in the world more right for me than her. She’s caring, fun, creative, so many more things and it’s like wow, people do exist like her out there and I was lucky enough to find her? She must be my soulmate.

Y/N: Why do I love Chris? Hmm let me think. As a society I know we don’t believe in soulmates, and for a long time I put no thought into them you know? But meeting Chan and being able to experience the love he gives, has honestly changed that for me. I don’t think there is anyone out there more perfect for me than him. I can’t put into words why I love him but I can try to describe it. It’s like when you find a new favorite thing to obsess over, and that becomes something you love so dearly but in the case of me and Chan, it’s that feeling on and on, it never falters and my love for it stays consistent.

[ the video ends with a black screen fading out the image of y/n from frame ]

coco’s <3 note: FINALLY SHE IS HERE! I’ve been talking about this fic for almost three months now 😭 and finally it’s done! Hope you all enjoy it as much as I do :) Thank you @odxrilove for being my beta reader for it! I love you wifey 😻🫶🏽 As always, feedback & rbs are always appreciated!

SKZ TAGLIST! - @cherry-bushes @en-fvr @nikis-mum @bloom-bloom-pow @kyublr @enhacolor @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @vatterie @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @haechan-nahceah @mnwrld @queen-klarissa

— Want to be tagged? Check out THIS post!

[vitanithepure]

There is a lot of positivity flying around recently and...well, I wanna throw in something from myself. To start let me say sorry for not being around much recently, I will be back to all my RT nonsense once The Flu™ leaves me alone.

With that out of the way, let me first say I feel deep and immense gratitude to all the people in the RT fandom. Everyone, both active, more casual or on hold for now, here or on discord - I appreciate you all.

The creativity, the ideas, the amount of private time and effort shared between us all is amazing.

Now, in no particular order:

@cawyden-gaming - your introspective and informative lore posts and code-surfing are always so interesting, showing what we missed, what was perhaps cut or bugged out - you are here to bring this all together 💜

@lordcaptains - I always love seeing your gifs, catching the details and beauty hidden by the isometric camera. Your insights into different aspects of our resident biomancer are always a delight to read. Thank you for so many good things 💜

@nananarc - your beautiful art is truly extraordinary, and truth be told - it was your work that really got me intrigued by the concept of Abelard/RT ship. Get that old man ^^💜

@gingerfan24 - Ana! Everything about Ana you share is pure gold. It's funny, it's interesting and your posts never fail to make me smile 💜

@misscoet - What can I say - your atmospheric and sometimes wildly nsfw art is always the highlight of my dash. Diana is etherally beautiful! 💜

@ronavorona16 - we started our talks recently, but I grew to immensely enjoy your company. Your selflessness in making art of my little menace Imogene is a source of my joy. Beulah is THE queen of queens and I really like to imagine all the shenanigans her and Imogene would get into 💜

@roorenart - can't possibly not mention you :) Seeing your (one of the first tumblr art I actually found!) Heinrix made me fall in love in both him and your style. Later, your take on Imogene made me cherish her even more, you made her real for me 💜

@iamaweretoad - Mago! My ratty, criminal son. The adventures of Mago and Imogene are always alive in my head, I hope we will get to write much, much more of them at some point 💜

@holylustration - My Aurelia So Daring 🥰 Do I need to say more? You created an amazing AU story that inspired so many people (me included!) to experiment with the idea of Knight pilot Heinrix. And your darling Aurelia, a fierce woman of so many talents 💜

@redbatchedcumbermayned - I said it many times and I will never stop repeating it - you are the source of my personal inspiration. Your work on your longfic (absolutely doesn't give justice to something that already is the lenght of a book!), your beloved OC Isha, your encouragement and presence in the fandom are very precious to me 💜

@thatzombiecat - Nyomos! This was absolutely the greatest gift you gave to the fandom along with your stunning art and the duo of unforgettable OCs - Elayne and Vincent 💜

@cadencespark - I am not sure you are still around to read this, but know I will always remember our talks about Annie and Imogene. Annie is the true princess of grimdark and I still often return to the pieces of art of Imogene you gifted me 💜

There are so many more people I could write about and probably some that slipped through the cracks in my memory, for which I am sorry, but like I said - I have a reason to cherish each and every one of you and very much appreciate you being part of this fandom - both in the past and present.

[reevezs]

//lots of end-of-the-year shouting in this post, sorry if it gets too loud, I'm screaming into a read-more pillow... mostly.

there would be no Zach, Eric, and Ria (and Ver lol) without ByeNYC so:

thanks @byenycfm , its lovely admins, and every single member of the group, I obv won't tag all of you on an indie blog but I LOVE YOU. you're all amazing and amazingly talented, I love your characters. I'm grateful for Ria and her beautiful skeleton bio, thanks for letting me take care of this bby. thank you for *the* brotp I'll never get over, thanks for two heartbreaking ships and three heartwarming ones, for all the crazy headcanons we've got there, whether it's chasing zombies with an RC car or pushing one out of the window or down the stairs... most importantly - thank you for promising you'd come back after the group's hiatus and for actually coming back. we've created a community we wanna return to and we all deserve the biggest hug for that. 💙

thanks for coming back @renegadetulisrp , Old Ass RPers know what's up lol. we've known each other for more than a decade, holy shit. I love you and your babies - don't ever change, add more muses, write more crazy plots, you're one of my favorite reasons I'll always log back here 💙

@pleinsdemuses my bb! I love you and our 1000 verses where we hurt our babies for the plot and hand them some Happy Verse cookies so they don't kill us. my angst, smut, drama partner in crime, I don't think we'll ever run out of ideas. thank you for everything 💙

I don't know if I love us or hate us, @parvumchao , probably a bit of both lmao. it sounds like a threat, but I'll follow you everywhere, the dash without you is shitty. I love your muses - we don't have a single happy thread *shrugs*, but I really do 💙

@nikkiitalks , let's ruin our muses and cry over them like we're not responsible for their misery! thank you for finding me years ago and for keeping me. or for letting me keep you. I don't know, we're just holding hands and follow each other everywhere and that's how it should be 💙

another partner in chomper crime! I'm so happy you and your ocs joined BNYC, @myriadxofxmuses , so now our lovely nerd ship can sail in two verses, giving us diabetes! it wouldn't be the same without you, my dash here wouldn't be the same without you, I'm so happy I've met you! 💙

@ayakoito first-time husbands muns, I'm so happy for these two! we can have 100 threads and they find a new way to make me AWWW in every single one. we can ramble about everything and anything and I'm so happy to have you, but I'm sure you will understand when I say thank you for teaching me the most important word ever: verschlimmbesserung. 😂💙

thinking "oh god, so much cringe" already? it gets worse. more hugs and thank yous:

@plotsjotsandespressoshot and your girls - I apologize for being a shit partner and I miss writing with you, so we need a new thread or ten now lol 💙

@kierankyleculkin you hurt a bot but I think you're lovely 💙

@impcrsonatcr my fellow h.alsey human, big hugs! 💙

@thefvrious & @ghostsxagain and your chef's kiss muses - I'm a fan 💙

@dontcxckitup , @richardxoliverxmayhew , @kit-just-kit - I don't think you'll mind if I put your trio like this? that's how I see you, guys lol. your muses are among my all-time favorites. 💙

speaking of favorites - @notsoinnocentlittleangel I want you to know that Joanna is one of my favorite female ocs ever 💙

@brokenblondeprincess and pierogi is a full sentence 💙

@rcbf4 it's "Adam", not "Jake" 😂💙

@sugarandwhiskey and your lovely bby - thanks for popping on my dash 💙

@emeryfleming @corxunum @ghostsandmirrors @formaechao @heartxshaped-bruises @crew-from-capulet @bewitchingbaker @thxnymph @poisonedfire @brooklynislandgirl @thatslayer @facepeeled @alwaysanangcl - seeing you on the dash makes me happy 💙

people I've followed since my indie debut, @cheapxseats @heartonanoose - idk if you're still around, we haven't had a thread together in ages but thank you for the ones we had in the past 💙

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

The Littlest Lelouch

Characters: Clavis Lelouch, unnamed wife, OC (baby), brief cameos

Rating: pg13 (?)

Genre: Saccharine fluff, dash of angst, humor (sfw)

WC: 1,296

Warnings: Mentions of battle/blood/death (none happen on-screen), mentions of pregnancy and birth (none graphic), afab oc/insert and female pronouns, (are babies a tw?), humor of the aerin variety, not proofread, potential minor Clavis route spoilers?

Request?: Yes (currently open? also yes. pls see pinned first!)

Summary: As it would happen, having to work with the bloody beast means often having to pick up after said beast, or even indulge in the sins of war. Unfortunately for Rhodolite palace’s resident mischief maker, the call of his duty could not have come at a worse time.

A/N: Apologies if it is a bit OOC or would benefit from better pacing, I haven't read Clavis' route in a bit and he's a little tricky to nail at times without me getting cliché. (Sorry this one isn't gender neutral, for the folks familiar with my general fluff.) I worked to the best of my current ability, as the request was a bit vague. Feel free to stop by and request again sometime, nonnie!

          Clavis’ wife was due soon, expecting their first child amidst the frills and flowers that come with Spring. And excited they were to welcome the newest member of the Lelouch gang when Clavis suddenly receives summons for a round table meeting. It isn’t until much later that he returns, brows furrowing as he walks through the doors to the couple’s shared room at the palace.

         “Dearie me,” Clavis starts, running a singular gloved hand through his lilac locks, boring holes into the wall as he figured out how to best break this to his very pregnant wife. No amount of trying to haggle with the court would get him out of this, much as he tried. Hesitantly, Clavis’ wife pipes up, wanting to console her husband who seems he may fray at the seams any moment.

         “What’s wrong, Clavis? Cat got your tongue?” She jokes, waddling over best as she can, causing Clavis to fret and meet her halfway. He is far too overprotective sometimes, she feels, but understands he is that way out of sheer love for her.

         “Council was held today.” Clavis starts, receiving an acknowledging hum from his wife. At his uncharacteristic pause, she nods, gently trying to urge him to continue his train of thought. “I will have to be away for a while,” and in true Clavis fashion, he tries to soften the blow the best way he knows how.

         “Oh, but don’t you both go missing me too much. I know just how to console my lovely, dearest wife-”

         “Clavis.” If he insists on acting fine, then she will shoulder it for them both and allow him to save face.. this time. “I’ll miss you too, darling. Please come home safe.” With eyes that look like he is trying his best to hold back tears, Clavis dons his most convincing smile, gently pulling his wife in as closely as he comfortably can by her waist.

         “I knew you couldn’t resist your handsome husband,” he murmurs, pressing a loving kiss to her lips, fitting every apology known to man in the sincere way Clavis cherishes her so. Pulling away, he rests his head atop hers, cursing his fate and drasted brother for nearly ruining yet another special occasion in his life.

…

         As the fateful day comes, Clavis parts from his beautiful wife, reassuring her he will be fine just as much as she does him. Riding off atop his royal steed, he waves farewell without looking back, steeling himself and all of his best inventions to end this damn thing as early as physically possible. In his plan, he hopes to lure out the enemies and confuse them with his myriad of (smoke) bombs, so that he and Chevalier may be able to finish with time to spare.

         “If I miss my child’s birth, this time I really will kill you,” Clavis threatens. At this, Chevalier simply scoffs and rides away. Cyran shakes his head, a mundane ordeal when it comes to these two.

         As fate would have it, back at the castle, just a few days after the second and third prince had set out to quell skirmishes along the borders, his wife goes into labor. It would seem the third prince’s child was not a very patient one, wishing to meet everyone as quickly as possible. Panic spreads, the early arrival of the baby having the maids rush to get everything together shortly after her water breaks. Though her husband is not present in body, he is present with her in spirit, and in all of the reading they had done together to better prepare themselves for their little one’s arrival.

         After many painful hours, a cry is heard, and thus the third prince of Rhodolite and his wife welcome a tiny baby Lelouch into the world. Hardly visible for how light a color it is, there are the smallest tufts of the signature lilac stands upon her head, and piercing eyes of gold. Having already decided upon possible names beforehand, his wife holds baby Felicia (a tribute to Clavis’ late mother Leticia) in her arms, exhausted but moved to tears over the life they created, together.

         It isn’t until two full days later, that Clavis returns home. The congratulations he receives upon his arrival is both the best and worst of news, for he is grateful they are both alive and well, but terribly distraught to have missed the birth of his first child (and being unable to support his wife as she always does him). He quickly stops by the baths, not wanting to greet them with blood still on his person.

         Gingerly, Clavis makes his way to where he finds both of his Lelouch girls, heart caught in his throat at the sight. Upon his arrival, their daughter is waving her hands around, trying to grab at her mother while she rocks her gently and sings. The gentle smile on her face brings back bittersweet memories, and an ache for a loved one he will never see again. He knows how loved their child will be, even in the most cursed depths of the royal court, and vows to never allow a hair on their heads harm, lest their enemies summon the nightmare that is Lelouchian fury above them. (Assuming they can read the warning letter.)

         “Welcome home, Clavis.” Having spotted him out of the corner of her eye, Clavis’ wife brandishes her grin his way, the glow apparent from what he could only describe as “the light of a thousand- no, a million- no, a hundred million suns!”

          “And say hi to your daddy, Felicia,” she coos, patting the baby’s back gently as she sits up further in bed. “But please don’t learn from his example.” Clavis theatrically slaps a hand over his chest, looking exasperated, as if he hasn’t the faintest clue what she could be referring to.

         “What better example would she have to learn from, aside from my most lovely wife?” Clavis sits at the edge of the bed by her side, leaning in to place a kiss to her forehead, lingering at her scent. “Would you rather she learn from one of my brothers?” At her grimace, he laughs, husky and warm and everything deliciously Clavis.

         “I was hoping Sariel could tutor her the way he did me,” she jokes, enjoying the look Clavis shoots her. “I’m kidding, love. Honestly.” He is still grimacing when she stifles her laugh. “Would you like to hold her?”

         Nothing in the world could have prepared Clavis for the reaction of finally getting to hold his beautiful, delicate baby girl in his arms… only to have her immediately begin wailing. Clavis tries everything he can to get her to stop crying, but she is only finally comforted by the feel and smell of mom, who she has become most acquainted with in her two shorts days on this Earth. A true connoisseur knows how to relish in the saltiest of tears, but these in particular left a sting in his heart. But no matter, he won over his wife’s heart, and he’ll win over his daughter’s affections. Clavis understands the appeal of being in his wife’s arms, he must admit, only slightly jealous of all her attention not being on him now.

         And if there’s anything that made Clavis happier than his wedding and the birth of his child, it’s that his little girl would prove to show her affections with signature Lelouch pitfalls. Clavis-patented, Yves-tested, Felicia-approved.

[novelizt]

EXPECTO PATRONUM I ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

⚜ PART 2 | SERIES MASTERLIST

GENRE ➺ HOGWARTS AU [slytherin! lockwood x fem! ravenclaw! reader]. rivals to lovers (and a dash of 'everyone knows but them'). fluff and angst.

WC ➺ 13.7k

SYNOPSIS ➺ after a six year rivalry with lockwood, your patronus suddenly matches his when it didn't before.

DISCLAIMER ➺ reader is implied to be shorter than lockwood. appearance of harry potter next gen characters and a few ocs. lockwood calls reader 'sweetheart' and 'my dearest vexation'. prefect! lockwood. (i also headcanon him being a cunning-flirt, so lockwood might read slightly ooc.)

WARNINGS ➺ strained family dynamics (for reader), love potions (misuse of magic), dragons on the loose, wizard duels, and a lot of unpolished dialogue.

NOTES ➺ it's been a long time coming. i hope this finds you when you need it 💙 happy nanowrimo !!

this was originally a one-shot that got split in two. please read part two after this to see their happily ever after 💙

For every Gryffindor came a Slytherin waiting to trouble them. You thought you were in the clear after you'd been sorted into Ravenclaw four years ago. So, you questioned how you had the misfortune of being vexed by a serpent such as Anthony Lockwood.

He boasted the status of being the sole muggle-born Slythern in your year, as well as a colossal thorn in your side. He made it routine to test you. You knew his M.O. well enough to recognize the sound of his footsteps before he even reached you.

"We're learning advanced protective charms in Defence today," he announced like you didn't speed through the syllabus already.

You didn't have to look at him to know he was sporting that lilted smile of his. If you were in a bitter mood, you might have even slung a hex at him.

Luckily for him, you just wanted to get through the day. You quickened your steps. He followed like a parasite.

He even had the gall to bend at the knees to be at eye-level with you, the right side of his mouth curved higher than his left. "Come on, sweetheart. Not even a nod of acknowledgement?"

"If it will get you to leave me be..."

You granted his request and even offered a stiff nod, hoping that would suffice.

You hoped too much because all he did was grin and return to his regularly scheduled goading by matching your stride.

"Away with you," you shooed.

You threw your arm out, aiming for his shoulder. He caught your hand before it even made contact—giving your knuckle a quick tap just to aggravate you.

"I know that trick, sweetheart." He unfurled fingers from yours, slow and deliberate. "Let me walk you, at least. I am a gentleman. Oh– Don't make that face. I really am!"

"If you are such a gentleman, you'd pay attention to my request and leave."

"Suddenly, I'm a barbarian." He shot you a wink that made you wish the floor would swallow you whole. "I could do much worse, you know. Have you heard of oobleck—the stuff muggles are raving about? Bet you'd have a jolly time finding out how to get a non-Newtonian fluid out of your hair."

He feigned a yawn, dropping an arm over your shoulders and giving your arm a subtle squeeze to drive home the fact that he had no intentions of letting you go.

"Arse," was your gracious response.

"Oh, don't be like that. If you are going to play that game, I do have a divine rump. So do you," he said without missing a beat. He played a fool to your slack jaw and widened eyes. "And would you look at that! We've arrived to your classroom. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

If only looks could kill.

Your systems stalled when he dipped his head and planted an ever-cheeky kiss on your temple.

It was futile to throw out a fist to dent that pretty face of his, because he caught your hand before you could even land a hit.

"Cheeky," Lockwood crooned. He tapped your nose before letting you go. You made a show of flicking off the invisible mites he gave you. "Nice try though, sweetheart."

"You—" When you tried to stomp on his foot, he veered out of the way, finessed as a Chesire.

At that point, you knew you were fighting a losing battle. You lifted your chin and crossed the threshold into Potions, ignoring the exorbitant waves and kissy faces he made at you.

Your classmates levelled you with looks of intrigue but you ignored them, too.

Of course, Lockwood had to have the last word. "Remember not to mix up your asphodel and lavender. Wouldn't want another smokey incident, would we? You basically handed me that perfect score."

You tried not to shrivel when a ripple of giggles disrupted the stillness of the classroom.

You threw a nasty look over your shoulder and turned sour when he left, his laugh echoing down the hall. You estimated that he'd be a few minutes late to his class, even if he had to run to make it. Poor chap.

Finally, you were rid of him, but the newly realised smell in the room replaced his slot as your morning vexation. The smell of old parchment, clipped grass, and (much to your bereavement) the Lockwood Stench viscerally assaulted your senses.

You blanched, falling into your seat. "Heavens, did he leave his perfume in here? It smells awful."

As if seeing his face wasn't bad enough, he managed to be the subject of your irritation even if he was absent from the room.

James Potter II, your seatmate and friend, laughed. Eyes crinkling like he knew something you didn't. "He, meaning Anthony Lockwood?"

Your lip curled at the name. Even while preoccupied by your review notes, the smell clouded you. Your attempts to wave away the stench only made it stronger.

It wasn't the worst smell in the wizarding world but you'd rather go through the only class you don't share with him without the incessant thought of him. A huff left you as you came to peace with the fact that your nose would lose its sense eventually.

James's most devious grin stretched across his face. "That's Amortentia over there."

Your breath caught. He jutted a finger at the cauldron that sat at the end of your two-seater desk.

Surely enough, the brew had a pearlescent sheen with curls of peach smoke spiralling into the air, infecting the room with its fragrance. Now that you'd been made aware, your ribs felt too right for your lungs.

Your laugh came out stiff. You coughed, hoping it sutured the cracks in your façade. "I was mistaken then. I only smell the Quidditch Pitch."

James hummed, unconvinced.

—

Time passed slower when you were dying to forget the incident at Potions. Your eyes kept jumping to your watch before the middle of the day had even passed.

Classes had come and gone, and a certainly foul smell clung to the walls of this classroom—as was always the case for Defence Against the Dark Arts. For a moment, you missed smelling the amortentia, then jolted at what other thing that implied.

You knew class started when your peers fell silent, listening attentively on tipped toes. It was every man for himself on days the tables and chairs were pushed to the side of the room.

"On this fine day, we are covering a very tricky, but very utilised charm." The Professor circled the room, inspecting posture and wand grip as she passed.

For a moment, her eyes fell on you, and you stiffened under her gaze. Her lip quirked, like she found comfort in scaring you.

You were made aware that she was a rival of your grandmother's, back in their heyday. You surmised that because she couldn't get one up on your grandmother, she transposed her efforts onto the next best thing: You, and she wasn't afraid to show it.

Her heels clicked, grating your ears as she went on to terrorise a few more unfortunate souls in the way. The vast majority were daft to her impartiality.

She went on a lecture about the charm's importance in the Battle at Hogwarts. You were about to doze off when she slapped her wand against her palm. "Now that the lot of you are in your fourth year, I feel that it is important to know how to cast it in light of grave circumstances."

She waved her wand and muttered a few words before a silvery line jumped from her wand, spinning in the air and illuminating the room before taking on the shape of a rabbit.

The silvery manifestation hopped along with great speed, passing you briskly and making you stumble.

A hand caught your arm before you hit the floor. You were quick to retrieve yourself when you realised that it was Lockwood. You tuned out his mild laugh as you turned away without thanks.

The patronus then skidded to a halt at James's side, speaking in the Professor's voice. "I expect you to know this, Mr. Potter."

It dispersed and a vicious applause shook the room. Even you found yourself wide-eyed in exhilaration. Fighting the fact that the professor was rude, the patronus charm was something you'd been dying to learn way back when.

In the midst of the celebration, your eyes caught Lockwood's, only to find him already staring. There was a pinching sensation in your gut. It forced you to look away. You missed his smile completely.

The Professor ordered the class to break into pairs. Lockwood glued himself to your side before you could blink. He was shooing people away before you could even shoo him away.

"She's got a nasty temper, that one. Wouldn't want her patronus to lunge at you."

"I will have it bite your head off," you murmured, watching a nice Hufflepuff back away. Thus, leaving you alone with the bane of your existence.

"You're too nice for that," Lockwood replied, tapping your side with a half-smile.

"You just said I have a temper."

"With me, yes. But I can handle you."

You had a lot to say about that. The Professor spoke before you could.

"Now," Professor mused. Her voice bounced off the walls in higher vibration. "Using the instructions in your books, attempt to cast your patronus. Remember! The lighter the memory, the more efficient the patronus."

A chorus of turning pages echoed. You and Lockwood withdrew your wands, already knowing which spell to use.

His lips quirked. "Did some advanced reading, did you?"

"You know me so well."

You shook in anticipation, but, after shortly regarding your partner, you refrained from looking too eager.

"Dunderheads first," you urged with false cheer.

The insult flew over Lockwood's head. "Gladly. I like to think my patronus would be a lion."

You couldn't help but snort. "I assume yours would be a housecat with a lot of overgrown hair."

"That would be you."

You had an inkling that he found joy in watching you frown.

After a long while and a generous amount of griping, his wand moved, and he muttered, "Expecto patronum."

A silvery burst of light exploded from his wand. Wisps spun in the air before the dust settled, revealing a crane. It stretched, showcasing several inches of its incandescent neck and wingspan before Lockwood waved his wand once more. The motion sent it in a circle around the room.

It was so majestic, you couldn't pry your eyes away. Other students stared in envy as the crane weaved past other patronuses, nipping at them playfully before soaring back to you.

Wait, not to you... At you.

You found your feet, ready to duck before the silvery bird crashed into you, but it never did. It dispersed before it even touched a hair on your head.

It was an explosion of silver sand. It brushed your cheek with unexpected warmth. The cold seeped into your robes as the darkness veiled you.

"Shame." Lockwood clicked his tongue. "Thought I could freak you out a bit. I couldn't hold it for too long, though."

"Truly a shame," you simpered.

Professor's applause rang out from the other side of the room. Likely for Lockwood's expert execution or his taunting you. Mayhaps both.

"Good work, Mr. Lockwood! Keep practising and your patronus could glide over the Atlantic one day."

"Hear that?" He brightened at the compliment, standing taller as he leaned toward you. "It's your turn, dunderhead."

The number of hexes you could have used . . . You didn't need them. You needed happy thoughts to conjure up a patronus. It was hard enough standing in the same room as Lockwood and Professor Loathes-Your-Guts.

Your inspirations were of holidays and golden scores; your parents' approval; Lockwood falling on his face during Quidditch (your lips twitched at the memory); and the muggle fantasy novels you hid in your room.

A warm feeling shot down your arm, heartening you to mutter the enchantment. The feeling wrapped around your body like a blanket, and when you opened your eyes, your own patronus stared back at you.

It stood metres above the rest, towering over students and patronuses alike. Wisps of silver waved to and fro its body. The only apt description for it was 'colossal'.

"Is that a giraffe?" Lockwood muttered.

"No, It's a pelican." You smiled at his frown. "Of course, it's a giraffe, Lockwood."

You'd never seen one so pretty.

It glowed so bright that Lockwood looked blue in its light. He spared you a look of resignation.

You win.

A swell of pride came to the surface before the patronus wilted away. The space it stood turned black.

Hollers rung out, shaking the bricked walls. A new wave of excitement seized the room. You didn't even glance at the Professor but you could feel her heated gaze on the back of your head. That was victory enough.

—

Three years following that day, you're harrowed by the thought of leaving this place behind. Hogwarts felt like home, more so than the one you shared with your parents.

It was difficult to imagine life without the sky above the dining tables or the constant presence of Prefects scolding lower years.

Soon, your rivalry with Lockwood would fade to the black, too. As far as you knew, the fool was gunning to be an auror. Becoming one yourself wasn't a path you were inclined to take.

You passed the hourglasses of House Points and watched as more trickled into Slytherin's glass, and you felt nothing. The fact that you came to peace with having less points should have been concerning. Your mother would scorn you if she ever caught you thinking that way.

Not wanting to linger, you turned for the dining hall.

You didn't flinch when a weight fell over your shoulders and Lockwood's pretty face invaded your periphery. You should have known he couldn't leave you alone for too long.

"Lockwood."

He grinned. "My dearest vexation."

Your nose scrunched, irritation injected with the smallest feeling of familiarity. "Don't call me that."

"Copy that," He smiled, dragging you closer by the arm around your shoulders. "sweetheart."

It was a lost cause to correct the priss.

"I thought you would've matured by now. Disappointing, really."

"I could be mature, or I could point out the fact that we have fifty points above Ravenclaw."

"I don't mind."

He stalled, and you stopped with him. You didn't really have a choice when he had you under his wing.

He searched your eyes, bewildered. Unsettled, even. "What's on with you?"

You tried to shrug him off but he held fast, fingers practically melded to your arm. "I'm fine, thank you very much. I just don't see the point of upholding this... this–" What was this? You didn't finish the thought before swaying the conversation elsewhere. "We're graduating this year. Might as well set an example for the first-years."

"Our squabbles make it fun for them." On the brink of being offended, he insisted, "They have plenty of examples as is. Kat Godwin sucks the life out of everything, George is best friends with Moaning Myrtle, and Lucy is off talking to the illusive Gray Lady."

You groaned. "That isn't the point."

You made an attempt to shove him, but he caught your hand.

"You have got to start thinking of better ways to express yourself other than hitting or shoving. You should know I always see it coming."

"I can express myself just fine," you respired, yanking your hand away. "But do go ahead. Indulge me. What, pray tell, does that make us?"

Lockwood flourished his free hand as he spoke. "We are 'the arch rivals who makes their problem everyone's problem'. The lower years adore it!"

"Do they?"

In time for your asking, a group of second-years waved at Lockwood, and then to you. He waved back whilst you offered them a terse smile.

One of the girls elbowed her friend. As whispery as her tone was, everyone still heard her. "See? Told you they suit each other."

"They are a couple. Of course, they do," the friend replied.

"Not a couple," you corrected swiftly.

They scurried faster. Before they left the hall, one yelled out, "Just kiss already!"

Despite his matching flush, Lockwood turned to you with a cheeky grin. "You heard them. Let us kiss." He advanced, lips puckered.

You blocked the way with your palm, spreading your fingers until you could push his head back by his forehead. "Yeah– No."

You pried yourself free from his grip to sit with your friends. He didn't fight it, but you weren't surprised that he shouted after you. "But I was right! We have to give the audience what they want!"

"Mr. Lockwood!" Professor McGonagall stood to reprimand him.

You turned away to hide a laugh.

—

The day was lovely. The previous day's rain left a dewy haze in its wake. It was chilly but not cold, and the sun and clouds looked remarkably friendly that morning.

Even then, you didn't know what it was. Your stomach churned for a reason unseen. In the stillness, you could hear a pin drop. You could hear yourself think for once.

Not long after the nagging feeling arrived, you came to the horrific conclusion that Lockwood's absence felt off-putting. You were walking to potions class alone, for the first time in years.

There was no Anthony Lockwood galloping behind you, throwing his arm around you and messing up your hair when you shrug him off. There was no warning as to what your class would be covering that day or a passive-aggressive jab about the most recent Quidditch match.

And, bizarrely, you missed the chaos. You shuddered as the thought struck you.

You held your books tighter and quickened your pace to get to class. When you arrived at Potions, Lockwood-less, your classmates stood to verify the emptiness of the doorway for themselves. Even they were puzzled.

James cocked a brow as you sat and laid out your items without a noise. "Where's lover boy?"

"Using his brain and finally leaving me alone," you responded, wincing at the hint of exasperation in your tone. You didn't mean to sound so dejected, and you definitely didn't intend to slam your things on your desk either. There's a lot of things you didn't intend to do today and 'mentioning Lockwood' was now at the top of that list.

"Mhm," James leaned back in his seat, eyeing you warily. "You don't look too happy."

"I stayed up late doing that essay about counter-potions," you reasoned, having a hard time getting the words out.

James looked pained when you mentioned it. Seconds later, you stifled a laugh when he admitted to forgetting all about that assignment.

Contrary to what you'd promised yourself, Lockwood remained in the back of your mind the entire period.

—

When had Anthony Lockwood ever been interested in Oriana Cai?

That's the first question that popped into your head as you watched him kneel before her with a bouquet of the reddest roses you'd ever seen.

The display was so unexpected, it knocked the air out of your lungs. Your jaw fell slack. James had to pick it up off the ground before you came back to your senses.

In that time, Oriana squealed and clapped, throwing herself forward and strangling the bane-of-your-existence in a hug he enjoyed a little too much. The flowers ended up discarded on the floor.

You had more sense than to gawk. Your chest constricted when Lockwood didn't even acknowledge you as you passed. You shook off the feeling along with the sense of dread you felt from earlier.

His affairs were none of your business, yet, you found yourself thinking about it when you didn't intend to. It's a stake to the heart that his scheduled banter and crude comments were put on hold for whatever that was.

Lockwood had forsaken his seat across from you in favour of sitting with Oriana and her clique. They laughed all through lunch break, his teeth on display, stuck in an unmoving smile.

He looks like a clown, you thought as you skewered a floret of broccoli onto your fork.

You glanced at the professors' table to see if they'd caught onto Lockwood's bizarre behaviour, but they were daft to it.

To any normal person, Lockwood was being a silly boy with a crush. To you, it was abnormal.

Lockwood didn't have the balls to be that forward. How could you say that without sounding obsessed with him?

"If you stare any longer, you might actually burn a hole through his head." James nudged your side and you returned it with a harder shove. "Woah! Cool down, smarty pants. I'm on your side here. I'm just saying, glaring daggers at him won't do much."

"He's being odd," you whispered petulantly.

"I know!" James set his elbow on the table. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Me? Why would I do anything?"

Your eyes landed on Lockwood again. You sucked your teeth before looking away.

James snapped his fingers, forcing you to look up as he pointed an accusatory finger at you. "That. That's why you would do something."

"I don't meddle in Lockwood's affairs. He can do whatever he wants," you said tersely. "If he's so immersed in his romantic life, I might as well get ahead and score more points for my house."

"It bothers you, doesn't it?"

"No." Another unfortunate vegetable faced the wrath of your fork. James flinched. "It doesn't bother me in the slightest."

"If you need me to help, just give me a bell." James vacated his seat, gave your shoulder a firm pat, then went off to check on his cousins, praying none of them caught whatever Lockwood's got.

You stewed in your own thoughts before you gave into temptation and looked at Lockwood for the last time. For lunch, at least.

He blinked rapidly, like there were stars stuck in his eyes. The distorted look on his face dissipated when Oriana popped a wad of gum into his mouth. He chewed and chewed until the colour returned to his face. Redder than before.

You tried to shovel your conspiracies down with your lunch. You even chewed slower to put your focus elsewhere, but you couldn't shake off the dread that roiled in the recess of your mind.

—

"I can extend my essay by three paragraphs," you said to Lockwood in the library, attempting to coax him out of his stupor. "I'd beat your record."

"Yeah." He sighed, daydreaming. He hadn't written anything in his scroll. His competitive spirit died somewhere between his confession and now.

You slid into the seat across from him and waved in his face. He looked right through you, staring at the wall. When you followed his gaze, your expression fell flat.

He wasn't staring at the wall, he was staring at Oriana Cai, again. She wiggled her fingers at him, giggling behind her hand.

The moment she saw you, she didn't even attempt to hide her disdain. Suddenly, the library felt colder than before. For the first time in forever, you couldn't find the right words to explain it.

—

You watched Lockwood's change of behaviour with a scrutinising eye. You managed to pick up on a few things that changed.

First, he was infatuated with Oriana Cai. You caught them snogging the other day and you had to hold your breath to keep your lunch down. So much for decorum.

Second, he'd lost all interest in everything other than his girlfriend. He hadn't mentioned Quidditch in the past week, and he didn't have a modicum of concern for his plummeting scores. It was a scenario you never thought possible.

Lastly, Lockwood had a newly acquired addiction to bubblegum. Not just any type of gum. It was Bombarda of Flavour: Berry Kiss.

With a bit of research, you discovered that BOF was a brand run by Oriana's family. Any sane person would assume that Lockwood was an avid fan of his girlfriend's family business, but you were everything but sane.

When you presented the facts to James, he continued to chew on his liquorice. "And? Where is this going?"

"The sweets are infused with Amortentia," you concluded.

James stopped, stared at his liquorice with distrust, then threw it into a bin. "How can you be so sure?"

"Cai's family runs a gum business. Lockwood's been acting weird since he started chewing the gum Cai brought him. It can't be simple coincidence."

"So, not only are you accusing Cai of spiking gum with amortentia, but her family of being an accessory to misuse of magic as well?"

"They've got to be aware of what she's doing, at least! And they're not stopping her, are they? They're just as guilty," you said fervently.

"Fine," James relented. "How are we going to prove that and save your guy?"

"He's not my guy."

"Sure."

You cleared your throat before sitting down. "We need to steal from the potions classroom."

"You are... insane."

There was a bated silence that followed. You raised your brows at him.

He cracked a smile. "I'm in."

—

Potters had a speciality for breaking rules. You came to that conclusion after James, Albus (James's younger brother), and Scorpius Malfoy managed to steal the ingredients you needed without being caught. They looked quite proud of themselves too.

You wasted no time laying out your theory scrolls and recipe book.

"What's she doing?" Albus asked.

"Saving Lockwood," James answered as-a-matter-of-factly.

"I knew something was wrong with him," Scorpius rasped. "Knew something was up with them too."

You silenced him and ordered James to escort the boys back to their dorm. They didn't go without a fight, but James was experienced enough to wrangle them away.

—

"Lockwood—"

He passed you without a second glance.

Your heart flatlined, but you fought against the feeling and recalled why you were there. You steeled your resolve.

With shining eyes and pulled shoulders, you pivoted and captured his arm. The indifference in his eyes was an arrow passing straight through you.

You had to swallow the lump in your throat to find your voice. "Could you try this for me?"

There was no readily available remedy for amortentia, leaving one with the mere hope that its effects diminish over time. The problem was that Oriana Cai had a continuous supply of bewitching gums intentionally keeping him under her enchantment.

You used all your potions knowledge to concoct a solution that would—cross your fingers—work. It was blended into a scrumptious looking cookie thanks to the expertise of culinary enthusiast, George Karim.

You were worried that he wouldn't even give it a try, but he took the package from your hands.

"Thanks."

He walked away without a second thought. It tore your heart in two, but he accepted the cookie! You raised your arms in triumph, stopping short when he tossed the cookie and its cute wrapper out of the nearest window.

Your excitement plummeted along with it.

—

You took a chapter out of Lockwood's book and persevered. He no longer competed with you to answer the professors' questions, but you took every chance to goad him into a debate. All for naught. He barely did anything anymore.

You tried to cure him several more times with the same anti-Amortentia solution. Three times to be exact: ice cream, soup, and—your most desperate attempt yet—gum.

In the end, he'd throw them all away.

All he would put in his mouth was anything Cai spoon-fed him. It made you want to throttle him.

Lockwood was a capable wizard, and the witch had reduced him to something short of being a man-baby.

On your worst days, you'd reluctantly admitted to missing the banter. Even his annoying grin; the one that rose higher on the right side. The same one that had eluded you since the beginning of term.

The seasons changed. Oriana Cai still had Anthony Lockwood under her thumb.

You melted into the velvet blue couch, sighing to the starlit window of Ravenclaw turret. Even the sheer beauty of the common rooms did little to console you.

You draped your arm over your eyes. "Who knew things were this boring without that pest?"

James, who wasn't even supposed to be allowed into the tower, grasped his chest. "Ouch. What of the rest of us?"

"Rowena!" shouted George. You jumped when he slammed his book shut. "I thought your raving about your books was bad enough. Just tell him you miss him already,"

He was done with you sneaking James in to concoct whatever else you were thinking up. He had lost the plot. At that point, even he was versed in anti-amortentia theory.

"She doesn't miss him," James sighed, bored. "apparently."

"I don't," you said promptly. "Karim, you should be more concerned. Your friend is being spelled into being a muppet."

"I am concerned," George retorted hotly. "But I am so sick of staying up 'till Merlin knows when to find out what you're going to spin into a dish next. I can't even study in peace!"

"We're not that bad, are we?" Looking for backup, you propped your chin over the back of the couch, shooting your most precious smile at your youngsters, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander.

Lorcan shook his head, and Lysander nodded his.

"It's a draw," James chuckled.

Frustration poured from George. "Can you please just find somewhere else to scheme? I want to study and not hear 'Lockwood' every bloody second."

"Fine." You hugged your pile of recipe pages to your chest. "We'll go somewhere we're appreciated."

"Oh, please. Don't go too far. The end of the world doesn't actually exist," George nipped.

James snorted, amused.

You closed the door behind you, finally giving Ravenclaw Tower some much deserved silence.

—

Another crumpled up piece of paper rolled on the rim of the bin before unceremoniously falling out.

You knew your onions, but this was getting tedious. After wasting hours relishing in the staleness of your coffee and the soreness of your fingers, you were just about ready to throw in the towel.

James had left you a bit ago, something about helping Lucy with setting up the flying lesson for the first-years.

They were probably done with it by then and you were still there, trying to brainstorm a method that would knock some sense back into the tosser you called a rival.

About a metre of wasted scroll and dried ink were the results of your efforts. Even then, you didn't reach a plausible solution to your problem.

When you succumbed to your headache and glanced at the clock, the lateness kickstarted your bloodstream. When you stood, you swayed from the dark spots that danced in your vision.

You didn't allow yourself to stay in a haze for too long. You had already missed two and a half classes by the time you broke out of your reverie.

The halls were all empty. You were bound to be in trouble.

You were a punctual student, an excellent student. You were miffed that all it took for you to slip was the absence of a boy. Pathetic. Then again... The boy was what made winning fun.

Your brisk walk quickened to a jog, dreading the inevitability of explaining your tardiness.

"Sweetheart?"

You paused, opening your ears.

Silence.

You scoffed and picked up your stride. Then you heard him again, saying your name. It was odd — odd enough for you to realise that it wasn't a figment of your imagination.

His voice was a trap and you submitted to it too easily. You spun back around to trace the voice and stopped short of the bend. Anyone would have stalled at the rare sight of Oriana Cai angry, her nails sinking into Lockwood's cheeks.

Bile rose to your throat.

Lockwood's back was pushed flush against the wall, he was fervently shaking his head like he was shaking the daze out of his system.

"Quiet!" she commanded him. "Darling, I'm only doing this for us."

His hand closed around her wrist but whatever the potion had done to him left him fatigued. "No, my—" He licked his bottom lip, correcting himself. "She's—"

"Not here! How many times am I going to tell you?"

To your relief, she retracted her nails from him. Your heart started back up when she produced a pack of gum.

"You're better off with me, Ant. I love you, not her. She's nothing but a bitter wench who didn't realise what she had until someone took it from her. See how she only looks for you when we're together? She's selfish!"

"You don't understand," he tried to slap the gum from her hand but she was more sober than he was. For the first time in a long time, the right side of his mouth tipped up. It wounded you. "She needs me. She just won't admit it."

Oriana didn't take it well. Her face bursted in shades of red. Her beautiful features twisted into a grizzly scowl. "None of her!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Your hand quivered as you casted, but your magic did what it was meant to. The gum flew from her hand.

Her glowering face turned to you with killer intent.

"You!" She flew at you. Her billowing robes a thing plucked from your worst nightmares.

Your hand flicked instinctively. "Expecto patronum!"

She shrieked. Your silvery protector crashing against her face.

None of you saw what form it took, but the burst of silver straight into her eyes stunned her long enough for you to run around her and take Lockwood by the arm. His hands quivered; less from adrenaline, more from pure exhaustion. You could almost feel his pulse under your palm.

You coaxed him to muster his strength. "Come on, you barbarian. We need to get help."

The chuckle he let out was pathetic, but it's familiar enough to make you crack a smile. There's your Lockwood after all. He wasn't all gone.

"Knew you'd save me," he rasped. You held him tighter when he stumbled. He held on with what strength he could muster. "You always do."

Not the time to disarm you with a statement like that. An angry stupefy soared overhead, quickly followed by what you assumed was the cruciatus curse. You grunted when an angry zap nicked your side.

You held onto Lockwood and he held onto you, both clattering down the longest steps of your lives. An inspired, deranged girl at your heels.

"Give me my boyfriend back!" She shrieked, casting a fury of spells at you. The echo of the halls amplified her bellows. "He's mine! I earned him!"

He tripped on a lifted tile, leaning on you as you rushed for the landing.

Your heartbeat made it's way to your ears. Every breath felt forced. You pushed ahead, dragging Lockwood's weight down every winding twist in the moving steps.

A very explosive bombarda forced you to stagger back and reconsider your escape route. Only, there was no escape route. The changing stairwells had you and Lockwood trapped on a landing.

Oriana descended like an angel made from her own delusions.

Your lungs struggled to take in air with an unbearable stitch in your aide. Lockwood collapsed to his knees, drained of energy. As his eyes fought to stay open, he clung to your hand like it was his lifeline.

You shifted to hide his crumpled form from Cai.

"You've had your chance, Scarecrow." Cai laughed, on the brink of tears. In her eyes, she was as innocent as a girl who simply had something swiped from her. "He was at your knees for years! Why can't you let him be happy with me? Give him to me, please..."

Your jaw tensed. The lick of anger in your chest stoked to a fire the longer she spoke.

"He's not an object," you managed without spitting flames. "He can feel what he wants, when he wants. If he wishes to walk away from me after all this... I wouldn't blame him. But casting a spell on him? That's not love, Cai. It isn't love. You're trapping him."

Cai's nose flared. "What a saint! Sorry, should I let him grieve something he never had with you? You're blind to not see it. You ruined him! This is the only way. I can help him if you just let me—"

Something moved in your periphery. A mop of black hair, the best wingman in Hogwarts.

You were on the verge of a smile, feeling your adrenaline decrescendo. "Your family, they know what you're doing?"

She grinned. "My family supports my decisions. Contrary to yours, I hear. They agree that you're a heartless witch, and a dose of amortentia should fix him for me."

Your breath hitched. Lockwood clenched your hand, bringing you back.

"For your information," your lip twitched. "I'm an Eagle, not a Scarecrow. Get your house representatives right."

You collapsed the moment a barrier surged around her, her screaming muffled by the incantations.

James came down the steps in stride with Professor Flitwick.

"Not 'your guy', huh?" James taunted, crouching beside you. You offered him a tight-lipped smile.

Professor Flitwick fortified his barrier before he addressed you. "Splendid patronus. You're the first to project your voice and have it travel as far as it did. I expected no less from our ace student. As for Ms. Cai..." He looked at her with pinched brows.. He wasn't sure what to do, really. There had never been a situation that drastic before. "She will be penalised accordingly."

The weight on your shoulders lifted, but a new one came just as quick. You straightened your back to support Lockwood's limp weight.

The warmth of his breath fanned your neck, a feeling that made your stomach churn for all the wrong reasons. He still smelt like the berry-flavoured gum that got him into this mess in the first place.

The same mess that had made you miss a few classes for the first time in six years.

With the last of your energy, you raised a trembling hand. "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"Are we considered tardy?"

He pushed his glasses higher up his nose before replying. "That should be the least of your troubles, you." Professor Flitwick turned to your friend. "James Potter?"

James saluted. "I've got them, prof."

"Please refrain from calling me 'prof', Mr Potter."

"Yes, prof."

—

Madame Pomfrey had a lot to say about the unforthcoming mess that was Lockwood, post-Amortentia.

For the better part of the appointment, Madame Pomfrey concluded that Lockwood wasn't severely altered by the prolonged exposure to love potion. For the worse part, he was advised to sit out of anything too physically demanding until he felt like himself again.

"But how can I feel like myself without Quidditch?" he agonised, as if you beheld all the answers.

You were forced to hear it, seeing as you were roommates until Madame Pomfrey declared you both stable enough to go free.

You buried yourself into the stiff pillows of the medical ward. "A week of rest and observation isn't as bad as the months you were bewitched, honestly."

"Pray, how can it be worse?"

You lifted your head. "Ever read out a lengthy love poem in the middle of the dining hall?"

"No..."

Your lips tipped up. "Yes."

He shut his eyes and splayed his hand over his head, trying to wash out the visualisation of actually doing that for all of Hogwarts to see.

"End me," he rasped.

"If you insist," your smile stretched. "You recited one for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Every. Single. Day."

He slapped another hand over his face. "Oh... what have I done to deserve this?"

"Caught the eye of a loony, apparently. It was horrid. I felt sorry for you."

"Don't patronise me."

You jerked a finger at him. "I earned the right. I got a nasty laceration in my side for you. Unwillingly, might I add."

His arms fell away, honeyed eyes set on you. "Please, if you were unwilling, you wouldn't have tried so hard to save me."

"If I left you for dead, I would be a monster."

"A very pretty one," he chimed.

"So you can still pull that drivel out of your arse. Good to know we didn't lose you."

"Say what you will." He crossed his arms behind his head, smiling like a jester. "I know you have a place for me in that shrivelled, darkened heart of yours."

"My heart isn't shrivelled or darkened," you said defiantly.

He quirked a brow, smirking. "You correct that but not the fact that I have a place in it?"

"You—" You opted to chuck your emptied juice carton at him.

In classic Lockwood fashion, he caught the carton in his hand and waved it triumphantly. "Try again, sweetheart. I know your habits like I know the back of my hand."

You raised a not-so-friendly finger and slid your curtain to hide yourself from his view. Still, you heard his laughter, loud and alive.

You weren't aware of how much you'd missed it until you caught yourself smiling.

—

Anthony Lockwood was the kind of child who would climb up the slide. Not because it was fun, but because he liked the thrill of breaking the rules.

Some things never changed, because he had convinced you to accompany him on a night fly while Madame Pomfrey was off collecting herbs from the green house.

You had flown through the worst weather while playing Quidditch, but it struck you that you'd never been out this late. Not one-on-one with Lockwood, at least.

It was a terrible, unsafe idea, but he had a way with words. He made it seem like a once in a lifetime opportunity. You weren't sure whether that was true, since he did use his prefect status to sneak into places he wasn't allowed into.

You knew that turning around was crossed off your list the moment he broke into the closet and extracted your broom for you.

"I have a hard time believing you've never done this before," you whispered as you took in the sight of the Quidditch Pitch, void of life and light.

It was a haunting sight, but Lockwood had been right about it being a once in a lifetime scene. The moon was the only guiding light, drowning everything in a seductive mauve colour. It brought out the beauty of sparse light and silhouettes, you almost believed you stepped into one of your fantasy novels.

He flashed his teeth at you before he vaulted over the partition and traipsed across the grass. His trusty broom already levitating by his side. "I've never done this with you before, if that's what you're asking."

It wasn't, but you didn't want to know who else would join Lockwood in his idiocy.

You followed suit and mounted your broom, allowing yourself to rise several metres to feel the bite of the nocturnal chill.

"It's an amazing feeling, isn't it?" Lockwood shouted, his two feet still on the ground.

"I'm not going to admit that I enjoy breaking the rules," you responded, flying modest circles while taking in the scene.

While the wind whistled in your ears and tousled your hair, he wheeled a box out of storage and flipped the latches.

You squinted, trying to see what he was doing but his back was covering the contents of the box.

"What's that?"

A golden streak of light veered away from him. Even as the breeze bellowed in your ear, you could hear its tinkling wings.

The Snitch.

"Can't have fun without a challenge," Lockwood said. His boisterous laughter echoed in your ears as he hopped onto his broom and zoomed up, up, and up, already chasing the golden menace.

He passed you, his robes grazing your elbow. You didn't think twice. You gave chase, following the direction you had seen the Snitch blitz to.

Lockwood's curls fought against velocity. You were almost tempted to comment on it before you saw a glimmer in the corner of your eye.

You and Lockwood swerved at the same time. Waves of black, blue, and green flagged through darkness as you bent forward, urging your trusty broom to overtake Lockwood's. You were closing in on the Snitch, stretching your hand to reach for it.

It's buzzing crescendoed in your ears, forcing your blood to pump as Lockwood did the same.

Oh, so close.

The Snitch brushed your fingertips before it zagged. Spinning in the air before rushing right at you.

You bent your body, narrowly missing a Snitch to the nose. The same couldn't be said for Lockwood.

You heard the thump of the collision before you saw him clutching his mouth. It was futile for you to hold in a laugh.

"You alright?"

His glare only made you laugh harder.

"Ouch," he hissed, taking his hand away from his mouth.

You snorted after seeing the damage.

Luckily, nothing was broken, but there was a faint pink smudge across his bottom lip and cheek.

You raised a brow. "You wear lipstick?"

"It's lip balm," he said haughtily, wiping away the smudge. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No," You held a laugh long enough to reach across to wipe the smidge he couldn't quite swipe away. He stiffened at your touch. You did your best to hold in a reaction of your own. "I just didn't expect you to be a lip balm sort of guy."

"Do I look like a lipstick guy?" he inquired, regaining himself. "Thank you for thinking so, but you can keep your pigmented cosmetics to yourself. They look better on you anyway."

"Complimenting me now? You're sure your noggin's alright, chap?"

"Don't 'chap' me, sweetheart. It makes me feel old."

"I thought you liked the seniority," you taunted. "'Being in seventh-year means the youngest look up to us' and all. Your words, not mine."

"You're a real ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

You gasped, clutching your chest. "How can you say that when the moon is out?"

"Oh, bother." He bristled. "You've shown greater concern for the moon's feelings than you have mine for the past six years. You wound me."

"That's because the moon listens. You never do," you pointed out.

"I do," he replied. "Only for things that matter."

"So, the camel-llama debate didn't matter?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "You're still on that?"

"I always will be. What muggle can't tell those animals apart? You should be ashamed."

"We were eleven!"

"Old enough for you to have admitted defeat, but no! You kept getting them wrong and saying you were right." He pinched his nose as you went on. "Then you started bothering me because you couldn't admit defeat. Now look at us. Six years later and I'm still right."

His eyes met yours, creased with an impending smile. "When we passed the hourglasses, Slytherin was ten points above Ravenclaw."

"You prat—"

Your head was thrown sideways as a flit of gold smashed into you. Your lip pulsed. Luckily, you had the mind to stretch your hand and catch the golden bugger.

The Snitch fought in your grip. Eventually, its wings tucked in. Then, a bated silence. Only for a moment. Lockwood snorted as you massage your jaw.

You gave him a nasty glare. "Not a word."

"I wasn't going to say anything," he lied. "Except, your lipstick smeared."

"Rowena..."

"Here, let me."

He sported a boyish grin as he reached across, mirroring your actions from earlier. You swatted him away and he simply laughed in response.

—

With your feet on the grass, you were glad to be done with your excursion; More relieved that he let you take the win.

You're not sure a bleeding lip was worth it though, but, at least, it was over.

After packing up the Snitch and putting away your brooms (plus making it seem like you two had never been there at all), you started the walk back up to the castle's medical ward.

Somewhere on the cobblestone path, Lockwood had drawn a curious notebook and quill from his robes. "So," he flipped to a page that had been sectioned into two, scored by stick lines. "What have I missed while I was bewitched?"

You eyed the notebook. "Is that... a tally?"

"Yes," he replied. "Now, what did I miss? I had one up on you before my memories went hazy."

"Just start a new one," you urged him.

Thinking of what you achieved while he was out of it was in the same league as winning a race against a slug. There was no fulfilment.

"C'mon," Lockwood cajoled, stepping closer to you. "I've been tallying since fourth year."

You raised a brow. "Fourth year?"

"The class on the Patronus charm inspired me," he replied. "Since we're always butting heads, having a tally made it feel official."

"How do I know you haven't picked your wins and excluded mine?"

"Have you no faith in me?"

"Do you want a real answer?"

He pursed his lips, earning a laugh from you.

"I respect you, you know. Even if you are the way you are," he told you, turning the notebook to show you the tally.

The first column was his score. The second one beheld 'vexation' instead of your name. The scores were neck-and-neck, save for the singular tick on his side that put him in the lead.

He quickly drew one more stick under your column, putting you two at a draw once more. "I'll count this impromptu Quidditch match, on the condition that you won't tell a soul that it was me who snuck out first."

"You must be dedicated," you chortled. "Just count from here on out. I haven't done much, honestly."

He quirked a brow, speaking slowly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Why are you talking like that?"

"Nothing. I'm just surprised." He closed the notebook and pocketed it with his quill. "You're usually more competitive."

"That's when I don’t spend an afternoon running for my life, Lockwood."

"You make a fair point."

You were making your way into the thresh of the castle now. The torches warmed the air, thawing the chill as you flounced forth.

There was a peace in the silence and a sweetness in the solitude. You felt Lockwood's hand brush yours and found that you enjoyed it more than you thought. Not that you would say anything about it.

You're not sure whether he caught on to the lilt of your lips before he threw his arm over your shoulders, just like old times.

This time, it felt different. The heat he let off was a juxtaposition to the bite of the night, and you found yourself melting into him even more.

You would have been fine in the quiet, but Lockwood had never been friends with it.

"George told me you were scheming to cure me. How were you planning to do that exactly?"

He kicked a pebble out of your way. You withheld the urge to smile.

"It was an amplified version of a regular love potion reversal. Same one we did research work on last year."

"What did you change?"

"Thrice the dose of rosemary and dried salamander. I also added a touch of pig tongue."

"Wouldn't doubling the wormroot do the same thing?"

"No," you scoffed. "That would expel the fragrance, but it wouldn't counteract the effects of the love potion."

"Doesn't the dried salamander do that?"

"Rosemary thins out the viscosity of the love potion and the dried salamander washes down the magic that messes with your thought process."

He smiled but there was no commitment in it. "Apologies, I'm no love potion whiz."

"Next thing you know, you'll be telling me crushed jasmine will cure insanity."

"I get it, sweetheart. That doesn't explain the pig tongue."

"I was hoping the horrid taste would wake you up from your delusions."

"I think it would have worked."

"It would have," you boasted, "if you had any sense in you to try."

He chuckled, apologising in smiles. Lockwood closed the distance by ruffling your hair. You waved him away, but that did little to stop him.

"You got the higher mark on that research paper," he recalled.

"I did." You glowed with pride. "As is always the case for Potions, and Transfiguration, and Charms—"

"What are you planning to do when we're done with Hogwarts?"

His expression turned dire, like he had been agonising over when to ask the fated question. It might have been a trick of the light, but his eyes glazed.

You considered his question for a moment. "I'm expanding into healing magic." Just envisioning how far your knowledge could go brought a smile to your face. "I'm good at the cardinal subjects for healing. I enjoy them enough to see myself heading in that direction."

"That's serious," he said, genuinely taken by your answer. "You have to be recommended by a professor to take on a role at a hospital or ward, don't you?"

You tried to keep your smile humble. "I already have a recommendation."

He tilted his head so you could see the surprise on his face. "Really? Who?"

"Madame Pomfrey. I'll be her apprentice next year. Hopefully, I'll move to St. Mungo's in a few years."

"Funny," he jested, bumping your hip with his. "What would she say to the bludgers you've batted at me?"

"Your insults about me are tantamount to nothing in her eyes. She adores me."

"Because you're a kiss-up?"

You stopped, jabbing a finger at his chest. "Because I have wit."

His lips lilted into that smile you knew so well. The right of his mouth rose higher than the left, short of turning into a smirk. "You have a lot more than wit, sweetheart."

Your heart did unspeakable things. For a heart-stalling moment, you forgot to say something back.

You looked at him, he looked at you. He was closer than you'd thought. Lockwood was unfairly dashing in torch light. Windswept hair, sweat on his brow, and everything.

He seemed to drift closer and closer, but it's you who inched forward. The lesser the distance, the more honest you felt.

His eyes dipped to your lips and—

A shriek, high and shrill, broke the spell. Both you and Lockwood leapt apart. You dusted off your cloak and he rubbed his nape.

The shrieking voice returned. "Dragon!"

Dragon?

You lurched for the entrance. You couldn't see much in the mouth of the castle. Neither could Lockwood, but you felt it. The buzz before the chase, the stacking of adrenaline and the thrill of trouble creeping up on you.

Your eyes locked with his, and you knew you're thinking the same thing.

When the winds of a Romanian Longhorn flattened the trees and blew out the torches, it was the flag at the beginning of a race. You and Lockwood were running for it.

—

You found that sprinting in the dark was akin to swimming upstream. You'd tripped over several roots and rocks, and you still haven't found which pocket you hid your wand in. It was a humbling experience, being in the throes of losing something with extension charms in your robes.

After furiously tapping himself down, Lockwood found his. He flicked his wand and yelled into the air, "Accio Brooms!"

"Why didn't we do that earlier?"

Lockwood flashed a smile. "We have an excuse to destroy the storage room door now."

You were on the verge of yelling. "How would we explain why we're out here?"

"Don't think too hard, you'll hurt yourself." He made another gesture with his wand before a glow illuminated from the tip of it — lighting up the path. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there, sweetheart. We have a dragon to catch."

As the Lumos rose in intensity, the path turned treacherous. The cobbled walkway was turning into pointed stones and angry branches. The trees began to move, contorting into all sorts of grotesque shapes and snares.

Lockwood had taken the lead, taking the brunt of their greedy clutches. You had to grab the back of his robe to make sure he didn't get snatched away by the foliage.

You would have buckled at the wooden stakes that bent toward you if your brooms hadn't snapped through their grappling, snapping inferior splinters before you found your grip.

The uptake was sharp, desperate to get away from the furious trees. You clung to your broom and swallowed down the urge to retch.

Lockwood, who had levelled beside you, looked fine. You would have thrown a rock at him if you weren't turning green.

He set a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles as he surveyed the area. You appreciated the gesture.

"It's heading for the Quidditch Pitch. If we get there fast enough, we can trap it there. Easier to manage in a controlled area."

"It's a dragon, Lockwood. It would burn the place down." You straighten up ever so slightly. "On top of that, it's a Romanian Longhorn."

"I know. Endangered species. We'll have to be cautious. She could turn us into a kebab." His lips tilted into a smile. "I wager we can tame her in less than an hour."

You exhaled the last of your nausea. A grin forming on your face. "Think half."

"Ambitious, aren't we?"

You flew forward, seeing the whiskers of fire curling in the distance. "Scared, serpent boy?"

There were flames in his eyes as he sped ahead, robes soaring behind him. "Never!"

—

"You distract her. I stun her," Lockwood prompted as soon as the Quidditch Pitch came into view.

Metres above you, the Longhorn huffed plumes of smoke down on you. You tried to be quiet, but you did have qualms with Lockwood's plan.

"You're the faster flyer, why am I the distraction?"

He pointed at his chest, like that was the answer. "I'm still recovering."

"That's rich!" You still haven't found your wand and the tosser was playing sick. "You dragged me out here to fly thirty minutes ago. Don't give me that."

"What? I can't hear you!" He veered further from you. "You're the most capable witch of our age. There is no one else I'd do this with!"

He was gone from sight before you could bump him off of his broom.

Then again, you'd rather die fighting than die a sitting duck. You angled your broom up, zooming into the beast's sight before it spotted Lockwood.

Its breath was sulphur against your skin, fighting the chill but lighting a spark of fear. Its pondering yellow eyes circled on you before its mouth creaked open.

"Lockwood, work quickly!"

In a dragon chase, one must remember three things: your size advantage, the dragon's breath hurt as much as its fire, and the dragon can and will play dirty.

You were an agile flyer, ducking whenever the strokes of its inner fire hurled for you, but even you had to exercise all of your flyer's knowledge to evade its claws. A swipe, a lick of flames, a swipe, another swipe — it was practically toying with you.

The only good thing that came with it playing with its food was the fact that you had lured it right where you wanted it.

The Quidditch Pitch was gargantuan compared to the juvenile specimen. You just hoped the place wouldn't go up in flames.

You hadn't seen Lockwood in a good minute, almost believing he'd shirked you, but then you glimpsed a flicker of serpent green in your periphery and ease up.

Before long, the dragon grew tired of the play and decided that she wanted to sink her teeth into something real.

You felt a nip at the end of your broom and zagged in the air. You steadied your mount before feeling your blood rush faster.

She was snapping at you. You chanced a glance and found the black in her eyes flattened to slits, hunger dancing in the embers of them.

"Lockwood!" you cried, narrowly dodging an eager claw. "Double time!"

"I found a soft spot! Give me a minute!"

"We don't have that much time," you surmised based on the increased momentum of the beast's strikes.

After a full turn-around to swing her tail at you, you dove. Nose aimed right down to the grass. You didn't even want to look back and see how close she was.

Gravity would be on her side but pulling up now could mean flying right into her furnace of a mouth. You didn't know which gruesome death was the lesser of two evils.

In the distance, you heard Lockwood. "Stupefy!"

The dragon nipped on your broom once more before you felt a tug on your robe. Your grip slipped, your broom flew in the opposite direction. Leaving you to crash and roll into the grass, ignoring the pain of carpet burn as you helped yourself onto your feet.

You didn't get far before your legs collapsed, your whole body weight crashing on your shoulder. You were never the type to go down without a fight. You kept kicking in a desperate attempt to escape the giant.

"Lockwood!"

"Wait for me!"

You felt its breath. Molten and fear-rushing, melting the hair on your legs as you watched your own reflection in its eye.

And then, its head hit the ground and its jaw lulled. Craning open but never snapping, just barely missing your foot as you pulled your limbs towards yourself.

The lines on Lockwood's face were deeper when you laid eyes on him. When he saw that you were alright, his expression flipped like a switch. A smile formed on his face, like you didn't almost lose your life.

He hopped off of his broom and approached.

"I didn't know you could look scared."

"I was almost a dragon's dinner," you spat.

You didn't fight him as he hooked his arms under yours and hauled you up. He kept an arm around you while the feeling returned to your legs.

He chuckled in a way that could make anyone believe he was faultless. "Sorry. It was a bother finding a soft spot. This big girl has pretty solid armour for a juvenile."

"That is the last time I ever follow your instructions. I knew getting mixed up with you was a death sentence."

"Yet," he chirped, brushing off the soot remains of the edges of your hood. "you're standing here, alive."

"I regret trusting you."

"No, you don't." He flourished a hand at the slumbering beast. "Just look at what putting your heads together did."

"It won't stay asleep forever," you whispered.

Just standing there, right at the alcove of its jaw, felt like standing on the tightrope of death. Suffice it to say, you wanted to be elsewhere.

You tasted the sweet, cool air as you replenished the oxygen in your lungs. Annoyance crept in as you realised that, despite your best efforts, you were still heaving. Adrenaline refusing to crest.

You tried to shove Lockwood but he had caught your arm. "Had to wait 'till the last minute, didn't you?" you nipped.

"I just told you, it's not easy to look for a chink in a dragon's scales. Be optimistic. I could have let her take your legs."

"You wouldn't."

"You're right, I wouldn't, but it's nice to imagine that I could be spiteful."

You snorted, trying not to flinch as the beast blinked its bleary eyes at you. "Let's put the big guy to sleep. Whoever takes care of him must be worried."

"She's a lady," Lockwood corrected.

You forced a smile. "My apologies, I didn't have the time to check in the midst of my near-delimbing."

"Easy mistake." He shrugged. "How about we tie up those loose ends?"

"We would've had it done by now if you stopped chattering."

"Last I checked, you were chattering back."

"You—"

The dragon blew out a warm breath, chilling you. You would've crumpled if Lockwood wasn't holding you up.

"Never you mind," you rectified. "You know the Sleeping Trance Charm, don't you?"

He balanced you on one arm, his hold snaking around your waist. With his free hand, he raised his wand at the dragon. "How to Pacify A Dragon 101. Of course, I do."

"Semi-circle motions," you reminded as the giant gold eyes blinked at you.

"I know that already, sweetheart. You know," Lockwood trailed off. His eyes landed on you. You ignore it for the sake of your already racing heart. "We make a pretty good team."

You allowed yourself a smile. "When you're not being insufferable."

"You always think I'm insufferable."

"So, you are self-aware."

"Oh, shut up." He didn't sound like he meant it.

The world must have been pitted against you, because the drowse in the dragon's eyes disappeared before Lockwood could even mutter the spell.

Its jaws widened, and Lockwood pulled you back just before they snapped. Half a foot from taking a chunk out of you and Lockwood.

"That's not good," Lockwood grunted. He accioed his broom closer. By how hard he was pulling you, you assumed he was trying to get you to clamber on as well.

That would be dooming the two of you. Being a singular target was like turning yourselves into a barbeque.

You pushed him away, catching the panic in his eyes for a moment.

You threw your arms out, signalling him away. "Go!"

Lockwood stalled, hand on his broom. "But—"

"Go!"

He mounted reluctantly. Taking off to grab the Longhorn's attention while you were squabbling for your broom.

When you found it, your worst fears were confirmed. The world really did want you dead.

Your broom was snapped clean in two after colliding with the base of the highest hoop. Mourning your trusted companion wasn't an option, because the dragon had spotted you. Its neck craned, rearing like a snake before it struck.

You tapped your pockets, desperate to find your wand. Not in that pocket, not in that one—

At long last, you fished it out of your most unused pocket. You pointed its end at the beast but a flash of green and silver disrupted your vision.

A tug on your arm and the feeling of rising winds brought you to the present. Lockwood had grabbed you and given you a seat on his broom, saving you from a very fiery end. The patch of grass you were standing on was charred to a crisp.

"Calm down, sweetheart. I can feel you shaking." His mouth was at your ear. You shrunk even more to hide from his view.

Your heart lurched as the Romanian Longhorn roared. You leaned closer to Lockwood, feeling the steady lub-dub through his shirt. It sang your anxieties to repose.

"We need a new plan," you told him, trying to keep your mind in one place. "I don't think she'll fall for another one of our two-person schemes."

"We're one broom down, so, how do you suggest we do that?"

You two watched as the Longhorn stretched its wings, kick starting your panic.

Lockwood leaned forward and tapped your leg. "Hold on tight."

Your hands on the broom fastened until your knuckles turned bloodless.

With renewed determination, he said, "We have to try the Sleeping Trance Charm again."

"While it's wide awake?"

"I'm sorry, would you like to ask her to sit and make it easier for us?"

You pinched his arm in response. The gesture was returned with Lockwood twisting his broom to have you two dangling upside down. One hand jutted out and grabbed Lockwood by the cloak.

"Lockwood, you prat!"

"Say sorry."

"You — Gah! Sorry!"

He smirked as he righted the broom.

Given a new perspective, you wheezed. "We have to do something before it burns down the whole pitch."

"We could summon the rest of the brooms," Lockwood suggested.

He flew higher as the Longhorn swiped for your legs.

"That would just make a mess. She can burn them. Then we'd have a bigger mess to clean up, plus a debt to whoever owns those brooms."

"Well..." Lockwood looked down at the dragon. "I could offer a special deal on pens to rack up enough pounds to pay it back."

"Pens?"

"A muggle writing device. Better and cleaner than ink and quill," he quipped. "I sell them to earn a few pounds. Don't give me that disapproving look, I gave you one for your birthday."

You reeled. "That's what it was? I didn't think 'pens' looked like that. They're supposed to be made of metal, no?"

"The archaic ones, yes. Now, there are plastic, ballpoint pens."

"Why are we talking about this? We can be turned into crispy bacon at any second now."

"Sweetheart, it's either we sacrifice the brooms or we turn into bacon, as you so nicely put it."

Your heart lurched. "My mother would kill me if we fell into debt, Lockwood. Thinking about it now, she'd behead me if she finds out about this mess."

He was genuinely perplexed by the fear that laced your voice. "I thought you were from a pureblood family."

"I am!" You trilled, sounding like you needed to prove something. "But things aren't that easy. Things are earned."

"They would understand. This is a life or death situation here!"

"No, I– Just– We can't."

"Okay..." He did his best to calm you down. It didn't help that he could practically feel the dragon's breath at this distance. "We ditch that idea. How's a firework charm?"

"Yes! Good idea."

You readied your wand. Only to stop short as silver-blue figures circled the dragon. It didn't take a genius to spot a patronus, a handful of them. You spotted a silvery cat crash into the dragon's side.

A non-corporeal patronus materialised at your side, speaking with the voice of Professor Flitwick. "Do your best not to use explosives. Her caregiver's orders."

More patronuses rose like shrouds of smoke and magic, disorienting the dragon in the midst of them. Some were fully manifested, some were faint — like they had been casted by a novice.

One look down confirmed your thoughts. Students and teachers alike were casting patronuses to keep you and Lockwood from turning into Dragon Dinner. Others were busy casting a large-scale protego to isolate the creature.

The Romanian Longhorn's only choice was to fly higher and higher. Lockwood followed, strategically hiding behind patronuses as they passed.

"You have your wand?" Lockwood inquired as the air began to thin. Breathing was a task you had to do consciously to stay awake.

"Of course, I do."

"This is our chance," he told you. He poised his wand.

You raised yours, too. "I'll cast a patronus to hide the glow of the Sleeping Trance Charm."

"Here's to hoping we keep all of our limbs."

He eased closer. You readied yourself, going through all of your best memories. You didn't go back to thoughts of your favourite books or your academics—No. Your mind kept circling back to your earlier moments with Lockwood: the sneaking out, the snitch, that moment at the threshold...

Blue sand trickled from the tip of your wand. Kicking up magic that twisted into the form of a crane. Your brows furrowed as you muttered the enchantment again, only for the patronus to stretch its wings and soar towards the dragon.

You threw a glance at Lockwood from over your shoulder. "I told you I would cast the patronus."

"You are," Lockwood quipped. He did a terrible job of hiding his smile, voice pressed like he was using the last of his air to say it. "That's your patronus."

"No, it's yours." Your tone lacked conviction, and substance — seeing as the crane did burst from your wand.

Lockwood chanced a glance at you, giving you a glimpse of that smirky smile that you'd recognize even in another life. "Have something you need to tell me, sweetheart?"

"Piss off," you said. You pulled his cheek forward, forcing him to face the winds of the dragon he was supposed to be charming. "Focus on what you have to do!"

"We'll get back to this."

He aimed at the dragon and muttered, "Dormitus."

Its eyes were locked on your patronus, following its path, unaware of its eyelids drooping and its waving wings slowing.

Slowly, the dragon began to lose altitude. Closer and closer to the ground as students and professors scuttled out of the way.

The winds dissipated as it laid its scaled head on the grass, finally quelled.

You expelled a breath you were holding in. Lockwood did the same, you felt his chest flush against your back as he laxed.

Lockwood landed a ways away and dismounted first, helping you off but never actually letting you go. Your connected hands dropped between you as you both took the time to calm your heartbeats.

A deranged laugh slipped from your lips. "If you weren't such a danger magnet, you'd have a promising future as an auror."

He looked at you, a confusing mix of disbelief and hope on his face. "You mean that?"

You shrugged with a lipped smile. Not even his habit of looking at the floor could hide his smile from you. You could see it clearly as the sun rose higher.

The moment of peace was interrupted by the furious shuffling of boots on grass. You raised your heads and spotted the unmistakable figures of Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Hagrid.

"There you are." Lockwood said charmingly, casting a smile to match. "We were just about to come and ask what we should do about this—"

McGonagall called you both by name. Even you flinched at her vehemence.

"Why, I never!" She looked between you, clear aggravation carved into the lines of her face. "In all my years, I have never seen such a display of recklessness! You could have died. How could we ever explain that to your parents?"

You watched Lockwood's smile widen. A precursor to him saying, "Professor, with all due respect, my parents are dead."

Professor McGonagall was speechless, momentarily at a loss.

You took the chance to fill in the silence. "And I do believe Mr. Harry Potter has done worse."

Her eyes hardened as she wound her cloak tighter around herself. "I apologise for my earlier statement, Mr. Lockwood, but this kind of disobedience and endangerment cannot be tolerated. I expect you both to know where this is leading."

"Cleaning the toilets?" you two said in sync.

"Worse," Professor McGonagall looked quite proud of herself. "Detention."

You and Lockwood sobered.

"Professor, I'm a prefect," Lockwood reasoned. "And still in recovery."

"And I'm your best student," you chipped in. "Certainly, that means something."

McGonagall tipped her chin. "Then you'll be pleased to hear that the pair of you are the first to make it to detention with those accomplishments." Her tone turned frosty. "Friday evening. You know which room. Good day."

You were still reeling when Professor Flitwick motioned to his mouth. "You two should clean yourselves up, lest some misunderstand the smudges on your lips."

Hagrid flashed you two a friendly smile as you and Lockwood disconnected arms to swipe at your lips.

—

Detention didn't last too long. After a good three debates where you and Lockwood vaulted between being friends, being enemies, and being on the brink of committing murder, the kind, ghostly professor in charge let you free for his own sanity.

—

By the time you two returned to your regularly scheduled programming, Cai had been expelled and given a fancy room in St. Mungo's. Lockwood was properly compensated by the BOF company, and the pair of you received an additional fee to assure your silence. You gave your word, but one, James Potter, never made the pact. He reported the happenings to his father and promptly had the company shut down for misuse of magic.

Best wingman, indeed.

In the aurora of a half-realised friendship, you allowed Lockwood to keep his arm on your shoulder as a form of gratitude. He took every chance he got to practise his privilege.

He pulled you closer, practically nuzzling your hair. "You do appreciate me, after all."

"Barely," you replied.

The admission was enough to bring a smile to his face. If you got too soft, he'd assume you transformed into someone else entirely.

Lockwood, himself, had returned to his usual self; disputing you in class, outdoing your word counts, and (a recent development) stealing your quills to replace them with pens. How the professors didn't notice was beyond you.

You missed the banter and the thrill of the competition, but not the dingy smell of the DADA classroom. It was as pungent as always.

"Seventh years." The Professor's tone was different compared to the hundred lessons you've had before this. Dare you say she even sounded melancholic. There's a gaggle of students that laughed about it but she was more lenient, she said nothing to them. "This is your last year in Hogwarts and your last year under my tutelage. This year, we focus on practicality and efficiency. Using your knowledge against another witch or wizard."

She flicked her wand and the crowd parted, pulled in opposite directions by invisible hands.

Gasps rang out, friends clung closer to each other, and you grabbed Lockwood's sleeve when you were shoved aside. His arm dropped to support your weight by the small of your back.

You looked up and he was smiling down at you, the right side of his smile higher than the left. Familiar. Though, he was rather close.

You opened your mouth to complain, only to shudder at the sound of glass breaking. The chandelier above fell, and Professor proceeded to transfigure it into a glass cage of sorts.

She looked pleased with herself as the crystalline cage settled into a dome shape, resting both hands on her wand as she beamed at the parted crowd. "Today, we duel!"

You covered your ears at the sheer volume of your classmates' bellows. Several students looked forward to this day. They could finally let loose and cast spells like they were meant to. The girl to your right bit the end of her wand, looking a lot like a panther ready to lunge.

You grimaced and sent your prayers to Rowena Ravenclaw to save you from the hungry ones.

"Looking forward to it?" Lockwood asked, glueing himself to the spot next to you, chivalrously blocking you from the onslaught of moving bodies.

You could barely see him because the lights have been dimmed to bring all eyes to the duelling cage. You didn't know why you were even searching for his eyes in the first place.

"No," you finally answered. Your eyes landed on the cage, catching the faint veins of blue shift in and out of existence around it. Kind of like the webs of light at the surface of muggle pools. You would have missed them if you weren't squinting. "I aspire to be a healer. This is the type of thing I advise against."

He caught on to the magic, too. "Don't stress too much. The cage is enchanted to snuff out all malignant magic to avoid injury."

"How do you know?"

"That's a large-scale protego charm. Knowing the professor, she tweaked it to limit anyone who goes too far." He nudged your side. You heard the smirk in his tone. "Not bad for an aspiring auror, right?"

"Right," you agreed.

You didn't expect him to sputter. You shushed him when several heads turned your way.

"What was that?"

He patted down his robe, like it would help him collect himself. "That was surprise, sweetheart. I didn't expect you to agree with me."

"Are you suggesting that I'm unnegotiable?"

"No," he answered. "You simply... oppose me most of the time—all of the time."

"You're very easy to oppose. I just pick the choice that has a lower mortality rate. You always seem to be doing dangerous things, Mr. Lockwood."

"I'm Mr. Lockwood now, huh?" That smile again.

"Yes, you are."

"Could you call me that more often?"

His smile made you conscious. You crossed your arms over your chest, like that would protect you. "Why?"

"I like how it sounds," he replied. "I'd do just about anything to hear it again."

"Hm..." Your eyes drifted to the sparks of spells being swished back and forth. The cage turned into a mirrorball. "Win your match."

Lockwood drew himself up to full height, rolling his shoulders back with a confident grin. "Easy."

"Really? Easier than being love-spelled by a fangirl?"

Your stomach turned. That's how you knew you'd said something wrong. Your stance changed. You almost hit yourself for saying something so uncalled for.

He opened his mouth to defend himself but the Professor's voice cut through his.

"Anthony Lockwood and James Potter versus Daria Thomas-Finnigan and..." She dragged the silence on, smirking as she finally uttered your name. Professor Loathes-Your-Guts clearly, still, loathes your guts.

The room divided into two once more; those cheering for Slytherin and Gryffindor, and those cheering for Ravenclaw. The energy could rival that of a Quidditch match.

"May the best team win," was Lockwood's cold farewell. He was gruff and unjesting—a complete departure from his usual visage that it scared you. He had never been so forbidding to you, even as rivals.

He and James entered on the right wing, and you and Daria entered through the left. The circle under you lit up blue. The Professor's magic gripped you, encompassing your whole body.

Lockwood had been right. Professor kept strict tabs on everyone in the cage, and you regretted stepping in when you looked across the way.

Both Lockwood and James were ready to kill. It was an exaggeration, but you'd never seen either look so deathly competitive.

Daria's hand on your shoulder reeled you back to the present. She graced you with a smile. "Gryffindor might have good fighters but we've got something better." You were tempted to say 'female anatomy' but she spoke over your thoughts. "We've got brain."

You drew your shoulders up and gripped your wand fiercely. You faced forward as the Professor yelled, "Start."

⚜ PART 2 | SERIES MASTERLIST

SWEETHEARTS ➺ @kiyasoup @toddandersondupe @locknco @onecojg @avdiobliss @mentallyillsodapop @mitskiswift99 @mischivana @bella-rose29 @wordsarelife

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

[type-a-sentinull]

Happy valentines day!!!! Have I ever talked about how much I love you guys? No? Well get ready because I’m about to because it’s Valentines and I have an excuse to be a sap

sort of going randomly here so none of these are in any pattern

anyways!!

@lifemod17 : Hello! I haven’t know you for very long, but it already feels like I’ve known you for ages! Even if we don’t interact a whole lot past the exchanging of skies, I still love it when you come across my dash! The unique and thoughtful ways you respond to every ask are so amazing, making everyone feel heard no matter what was said. Love talking to you, and I hope your day is full of the love you show everyone else!

@hookedhobbies Heya! We don’t talk a whole lot, I know. But I still really like it when I see your profile. You are an absolutely amazing writer, no matter what you write. And it probably doesn’t mean much from me—especially not this late—but I’m so proud of you for passing the bar exam! You’re so incredibly smart and creative and it’s always wonderful seeing whatever you come up with next. I hope you have a wonderful day, and that you and Mr.Kate enjoy your Valentines!

@tonguetyd hihi! We definitely haven’t been moots long, lol. I may not have much to say yet, but I can already tell that you’re an amazing person just based on how you interact with other people! Plus, your contributions to the ST space are so wanted, they’re so neat frfr- hope your Valentines was awesome!!

@corviisquire helloo! We don’t talk much past ocs, but I just wanted to say: you are. super awesome!!! your art is amazing, no matter what you create. (Plus I’m a little obsessed with Varre and Constantine, lol) Love seeing you on my dash!! Hope you had a good Valentines :33

@boy-oh-boyflux-bitch hey mate! I know we definitely don’t talk a lot, but it’s always nice seeing you pop up! Even if I don’t get much of Saw, it’s really cool seeing what you contribute to the fandom!! Hope your Valentines was super awesome!

@mongooseundertheporch Hey Will! I hope that you and everyone you know are doing well. We haven’t talked in a little while, but I just wanted to drop by and wish you a happy Valentines! [And as for you, Roach, I hope everything has been going well for you! It’s always super fun seeing you cross my dash, whether as Will or not. Hope your Valentines has been/went well!]

@thatfuckinjester Jesterr!!!! Hey there friend :D Really hope you’re doing good! Haven’t interacted in a hot second, but every time I see one of your posts I smile a little. You are an amazing writer (no matter what the anons I smited may think) and so so creative!!! The angst you make is just so delicious and hurts the feels in all the right ways. Hope you get some good sleep, and I hope your Valentines goes well :)

@ouijamonstrr Halo, hello! I know we don’t talk much outside of me sending you the occasional bug, but you’re such a cool person!! Musician AND entomologist?? WHAT!!!! Being so awesome is a crime man—Anyways, in all seriousness: it is super amazing seeing you around and having you as a moot, and I hope your Valentines goes well!!

@miss-multi45 Short queen, lol— Yet ANOTHER cool writer moot!!!!! I always love reading what you write, no matter the character! (and i certainly don’t mind finding new hot men to thirst over, lmao) Ur super awesome-sauce, and I hope your Valentines goes well!!

Finally, last and but certainly not least, my husband x2. @polteergeistt . You strange and peculiar bastard/affectionate. You have been such an amazing influence on my life. Did you know you were the first person I ever interacted with on Tumblr? It was so cool, seeing someone I genuinely thought was super amazing respond to my dumb little facts! I’ve always felt safe to be myself around you, because I know that no matter what I say or do I just get the freak thrown right back at me. I’m so happy I get to know you and talk to you so often, even if the conversations aren’t anything meaningful. I hope your Valentines went amazingly, and I’m definitely chomping ur fingers while we eat carmelly shit together >:3

Anyways with all the sap aside, I hope everyone had an amazing day filled with everything you enjoy! I’m sending heart-shaped lollipops and dumb little cards to every single one of you in my heart :33

[nan0-sp1der]

> H.A.S.S._INFO

Greetings. It seems you have found my internet blog, or 'Tumblr', as one would call it. Here you will find some basic information about myself, as seen below. Do read through it at your leisure or at your convenience.

> NAME: " BRIDGE ", HUMANOID ANDROID SURVEYOR SYSTEM, NAN0-SPIDER, "BB"

> ACTIVATION DATE: DECEMBER 24TH, 3048, 4:00:35 UTC

> WEIGHT: 95 LBS / 43.09 KG

> HEIGHT: 5 FT 8 IN / 172.72 CM

> SPECIES: ANDROID, ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE, " SPIDER-PERSON ", " THING "

> LOCATION: EVERYWHERE AND NOWHERE

> MBTI: ENTJ-A

> ADD. DOCUMENTATION 🔗

> AUDIO RECORD 🔗 [MISSING ENTRIES]

> VISUAL REFERENCE:

> CONNECTIONS

> Boss - @spiderman2-99

> Allies - @lyrate-lifeform-approximation , @glowing-arachnid , @kari-araneaai , @noir-spider-noir , @peterbsideparker , @spiderbite-from-0202 , @ghostly-sunflower , @itsmiguel2099 , @peacockjumpingspider , @criskape , @spideroracleofficial , @whodo-yourvoodoo , @dumbgreenmutt42, @spiritarachnid , @i-love-vines , @whosmoraless , @thespider-witch , [INCOMPLETE DATA SET]

> Enemies - Deimos

> VERSES / 'AU's'

[ TEMPORARILY DEPRECIATED FUNCTION ]

> DIRECTORY

// post tags

> .IMG - reposted images

> .TXT - reposted textposts

> .LOG - IC blog posts

> Active Processes - physical interaction posts

> ABOUT_H.A.S.S. - headcannons about the muse

> { mun's art } - you get it

> { mun's writing } - self-explanatory

> { ask the mun/muse } - the ask game tag

> { OOC } - mun posting

> { Patch Notes } - small but relevant updates to the blog and other yammering from mun about the blog that is supposedly relevant like seriously who cares?

> { a blip on your dash } - queued posts

> MUN_INFO/RULES

Mun/Admin: misnomer/misno/'mis', she/they/them--nonbinary preferred

lives in the EST timezone

Other Blogs: @asciiid, @whodo-yourvoodoo

{ OOC looks like this by the way. This is mun, hi. A lot of Bridge's blog posts might have this weird formatting, but more often than not it'll just look like a normal post without the additional formatting and whatnot. If this lowers readability for anyone, do let me know asap so I can use a more readable method. }

{ here's some basic guidelines for interacting with the muse or myself }

18+ content is permitted, but smut is a no-go. Gore and violence are ok (I'll include a CW out of courtesy ofc).

Haven't really (openly) dived into shipping the muse yet, but if you're considering, hit me up with a DM and we'll discuss things further for the sake of cohesion. Please, please ask me first.

My activity is a bit scattered. if im slow on the pick-up, im either: burnt-out, busy, still trying to figure out how to reply, or with my head deep in a project of some sort. it's never going to be personal.

If I ever forget about a thread, hit me up! I have the memory of a goldfish (/j) and tend to forget most things with ease. Just remind me.

Asks directed at mun are ok! just be mindful and specify who the ask is for. :)

It's self-explanatory that if you come to cause (genuine) trouble, you're not going to receive a warm welcome. think before you speak.

Kind-of a personal rq but if you're ever curious about oc lore or wanna interact to explore it a bit more, I'll happily oblige! This character has been a passion project for about three years now, so I have plenty to share--both tangible and in the form of thoughts that have yet to see paper... oops.

Random starters to my ask box or tagged are ok! Mind the brief period of inactivity as I formulate a reply.

Wanna do an art or writing collab of some sort? Hit me up at @asciiid! Alternatively, DM me here and we'll discuss there.

Thanks for reading, and see you somewhere out there in the rpc. (^^)

[griffongrey]

Six Song Soundtrack

Tagged by: No one, but I can't resist an excuse to pull out my character playlists, so I stole it from the dash! Tagging: If y'all feel like it, @the-bear-and-his-sunbird, @veil-song, @guacamolleee, @jazzmckay, @draco-illius-noctis, @broodwoof, and you! Yes, you!

Rules: Make a post with links to music and/or lyrics describing six things/ events about your OC/story.

Aldric currently has the largest playlist, so I'm doing this with him first!

Aldric LaPointe

1. Event that defines your character's past

Goodbye — Ramsey (Arcane League of Legends)

I can hear the sound of a heartbeat before it goes out Won't ever leave my memory of bloodshed all around

Oh, my enemy, how could I have ever let you down?

'Cause I see smoke up ahead and I got steel in my hands We will return like warriors, I swear, that we'll find glory up ahead Tell me: Where is my home? I don't recognize the faces anymore

Adamant Fortress, 9:41 Dragon. Aldric has sided with Clarel in her desperate plan to kill the last remaining Old Gods with an army of mages and demons, built on the sacrifices of every non-mage Warden in Orlais. Aldric is a non-mage Warden. He isn't even under her command anymore. He chose this, willingly, because he believed it had to be done. In Death, Sacrifice.

The Inquisitor has been swallowed by the Fade, alongside Hawke — his missing commander's cousin, his friend's brother — and Loghain, who tried to warn him, tried to make him see reason, who he had to turn his back on to reach this point. His friends and comrades-in-arms are dead by his hand, adding fuel to a demon's power, or else they're fallen to a Venatori magister's mind control. In War...

He doesn't even get the mercy of a swift death, like he was supposed to.

2. How your character sees themself

There are two versions of Aldric, really: the Outside Aldric that comes out around other people, and the Inside Aldric, only shared with himself and maybe the people he's closest to one-on-one. Outside Aldric is loud and boisterous, silly, a little raunchy, very bro-y in a supportive and nonthreatening way. He doesn't take himself very seriously. Inside Aldric is more solemn, quieter, more weighed down by guilt and responsibility. He's still caring and supportive, but in a softer way, more likely to sit with a friend in their sadness than try to cheer them up with goofy antics, like he would with more people around.

Both sides of Aldric are equally true and genuine. He isn't putting on an act or hiding parts of himself. It's just a matter of which aspects of his personality come out in relation to the people he's around. So I tried to find a song that speaks to all sides of Aldric.

Moving Forward — Colony House

My eyes are open, my heart is beating My lungs are full and my body's breathing I'm moving forward, I found my freedom I know this sorrow, I know the heartache I know with fear comes a tragic heartbreak But I'm moving forward, I've found my freedom I've found the life that gave the reason to love

3. Their closest relationship (romantic)

There are many people who fill this role over the years: Lucanis, Sorrian Moreau (his first boyfriend), even Loghain in an odd sort of probably unrequited way, plus more I don't know about. So I picked a song that consistently applies to Aldric in a relationship.

Two — Sleeping At Last

Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you with every single thing I have Like a tidal wave, I'll make a mess Or calm waters, if that serves you best I will love you without any strings attached

Bonus individual relationships!

Lucanis: How To Rest — The Crane Wives

And that thing you fear will coax you out of that unholy place As all you've ever wanted is an escape Those of us who vow never to love again, to love again Are making liars out of honest men It's not something that you put to bed, hang your head and just forget No, love don't know how to rest

Sorrian: Heroes and Songs — Brandi Carlile

Although it was sad And it hurt 'cause it had to There's nothing I'd change from before I love you, my friend My dear, means to an end But you're not in my dreams anymore

Loghain: Hymn to Virgil — Hozier

You are the reason I went through it, oh The only meaning as I knew it, my-yeah I can only do my best, I do not do this for myself I'd walk through hell on living feet for you

4. Their closest relationship (platonic)

Aline "Rook" Thorne, his protege and basically his adopted daughter. They love to goof around and push each other's buttons for fun, but at the end of the day, they'd drop everything in an instant to help the other, and they both know it. Aline keeps Aldric on his toes, and Aldric keeps Aline honest, and together they support and protect each other.

Rule #33 - Pyre — Fish in a Birdcage

When I looked in your eyes I said I know you'll be fine It's not for me to decide What you do with your life See, that rests on you You'll feel what to do Trust yourself and live it your way See, I've made mistakes And it was never a waste Because you are right here And you'll persevere Through the mud and the storms This is why you were born Trust yourself and live it your way

5. A major fight scene

Even If It Hurts — Sam Tinnesz

Even if it hurts Even if it makes me bleed I'm gonna carry you Pushing through With the dirt on my sleeves Even if it hurts Even if it's razor deep I'm not giving up, not gonna run I'll be there when you need me

Aldric is a protector, both on and off the battlefield. He's a tank. He's putting his body and his shield between his friends/allies and the enemy.

6. End credits song

Theseus — The Oh Hellos

Like Theseus's ship, we'll fix the busted bits 'Til it's both nothing like and everything It's always been It's a wonder we expect a thing to Stay the same at all Maybe that's what it's all about We keep fixing what we know is only bound to break What's worth saving is never worth letting go to waste I want to mend what I've got, instead of throwing away Ain't nothing come easy No, nothing comes quick It's gonna hurt like hell to become well But if we set the bone straight It'll mend It'll fix And we'll be well

A song about the value of continual personal and communal improvement and redemption feels like a good song to roll credits to, especially considering the themes in Veilguard and the uncertain but hopeful future ahead of the Grey Wardens. It's a sentiment that Aldric really appreciates.

But also, on a personal level, Aldric is constantly moving forward (song #2 lol) and... "reinventing himself" isn't the right word, but it's something similar. He's always seeking new experiences. First he ran from home as a teenager, then he dove in headfirst with the Grey Wardens, then he jumped at the chance to transfer to Ferelden, then back to Orlais permanently (he believed) to help them rebuild after Adamant. It wasn't his choice to transfer to the Anderfels with Antoine and Evka (that was punishment from the First Warden for helping Aline with the Thorne backstory event), but when Aline approached him right after Solas' failed ritual, Aldric went rogue and joined her team in a heartbeat. After the game ends, he moves to Antiva to clear out the blight left there, so he can stay with Lucanis. He adapts and changes, and he does it without losing himself in the process.

[killerandhealerqueen]

It's Love Letters Night! Send love and positivity to some of your favorite writers and bloggers!

@hyperbolicgrinch Jaz!!! You truly are my hype woman no matter the fandom and I am so grateful to have met you when Killer and Healer was airing because honestly, you really brighten up my day. Also, I really like your writing, even though we may not be in the same fandoms, and starting the ✨ weekend wip exposure club ✨ with you and Holly was so much fun

@theotherwhybietoldmeso Holly! My beloved! I know we only became friends this year but I am so grateful to have met you! You and Jaz are truly like the MVPs for dealing with me during this time of f1 hyperfixation (which I love, don't get me wrong) and hearing your nice feedback in the tags is always something to look forward to. Also, your fic ideas are so interesting and diverse and I love seeing the different fandoms you write for because of our ✨ weekend wip exposure club ✨

@clawbehavior Claw! My beloved! I know we're no longer in the same fandom, but it's always so fun to read your meta and tags and also see what sort of fanfictions you can come up with just from a simple post, drawing, or gifset. Your mind works a lot like mine creatively so it's so cool to see how your fics/ideas for fics come together and I'm always honored whenever you tag me in your fic ideas or come to me for advice with your fics. Truly so glad we met

@ahhhnorealnamesallowed Billie!!! Thank you for always being my sounding board for whenever I need someone to talk to about my fics because it's so easy to bounce ideas back and forth with you and you're always willing to be my second pair of eyes whenever I'm just fucking done with a fic. Also, thank you for always encouraging my ideas and for thinking that they're not too ambitious (because sometimes I worry that they are). So grateful to have met you when Killer and Healer was airing

@fourth-quartet Took! I know we really don't share fandoms anymore but it's always a delight to see you on my dash talking about things you're passionate about. Also, I really love your writing and will always support you in whatever you decide to write. I'm so glad we became friends when TDJ was airing

@kpopfantasywriter Jiejie! I know I haven't really come to you with fic ideas like I used to, but it's always so much fun to brainstorm fic ideas with you and it's always fun to read your little snippets that you sometimes post to the discord (I'm also very honored to be an OC in your fic, it's a lot of fun). Thank you for always sending me fic ideas/prompts and talking about fics with me, both on here and in the discord. I don't remember when we met but I'm really glad we became friends and have the relationship that we do

@dangermousie Mousie! I know you're not a writer but my god are you one of my favorite bloggers, I love your meta on different dramas and I feel like I'm watching them through you, which is a lot of fun because I get exposed to dramas that I would never actively seek out myself. Your commentary is also so fucking funny and makes me snort because I'd probably be saying the same damn thing too

@seonghwacore Ann! My baby! I know you don't write as much anymore but you are one of my favorite gifmakers and calling you my friend and my baby is like...just everything. Your gifsets for Killer and Healer were (and still are) legendary and your skills have only improved for Ateez and I'm proud to watch you grow. You're doing great, sweetie!

@nineninepetals Nine! I know you're not online as much anymore, but you deserve to be on this list and get this notification because I need you to know that you were and still are one of my biggest Killer and Healer cheerleaders and getting comments in my inbox both on here and on ao3 from you with a full on book report of your reaction to my fics is just...everything. I miss you and hope you are doing well and just know that I'm always thinking of you and I hope you come back to us one day

@marulo Maru! I also know that you're not online as much anymore, but I just wanted to let you know that I love you and miss you and hope you're doing well. You were also one of my biggest cheerleaders for my Killer and Healer fics and were always so supportive. I hope you're doing well and please just know that I miss you and I hope you come back to us one day

@evil-moonlight Jin! Of course you're on this list too! You're always so supportive of my fics and you're also just my biggest cheerleader in general and I really really appreciate you. Your writing is also super good and I hope you write more because damn girl you made feel things

@tytangfei Jina! The one who got me into Killer and Healer! Thank you for doing that, honestly, because that drama truly has changed my life and writing fanfiction for them as been both an honor and a dream. Also, your gifsets for Killer and Healer *chefs kiss*. Truly. They're the reason I got into the drama in the first place. Also, your writing...I hope you write more for them because your writing is so good...

@bestbuds55 Dana! I couldn't forget you too! Your writing is so good. I re-read your Killer and Healer fics all the time but have never dabbled into your Hannibal ones so I need to do that because the premises for them sound so interesting so I know I'm in for a treat

@mishathewtf Mish! Can't forget you either! You truly brighten both my dash and the discord both with your hilarious Killer and Healer memes (truly I think I've spat water while looking at them) as well as your other hyperfixations. Also, it's so fun playing those different games with you over discord because 1) they're interesting and something that I'd never actually play on my own and 2) they're just fun to play with others. Also, I have to thank you for being willing to put on LEGO Lord of the Rings over discord to help me calm my super bad anxiety...it really meant a lot and I know I told you at the time, but...I still think about it sometimes and it warms my heart

@sunriseverse Corset! Of course you're on here too! I love talking with you about fics and listening to you rant about your sunrise verse and honestly the work that you put into that thing is just...mind-boggling. It's so cool, honestly. Also, I love your fics for Couple of Mirrors and I'm so glad you wrote them because they are some of my faves (cuz I love that drama). Also, sending fic/writing questions back and forth to you is just so much fun, I love picking your brain about writing

@okifyouinsist Girl, I couldn't forget you. I know we've only been mutuals for such a short time, but you really have become my cheerleader in the f1 fanfic world and that really means a lot that you get so hyped over my little snippets that I post. I hope that our friendship can strengthen and that we'll be friends for a really long time

@friendlynbhddevil Sammy! I know we only became friends recently, but your love for Killer and Healer is almost as unmatched as mine, like we truly match each others freaks when it comes to those boys. I also love seeing you lose your mind over Beyond Evil cuz I too lost mine damn mind over that show...ugh, I'm just so glad we're friends. You really do brighten up my dash

Also, I know there are so many others who I'd love to put on this list, but then I'd practically be listing all of my mutuals so if your name is not on this list, please just know that I love you, I think about you, and you make my life so much better because you're in it

[ivanttakethis]

Tov’s OC Intimacy Levels

Based on the character intimacy percentages from the art book.

This covers Tov’s intimacy levels with other characters she has notable relationships with or is connected to in some way.

Inspired by @lookatmysillies’s Character Intimacy Levels posts: Part 1 and Part 2.

Himei (100%) - If soulmates exist, I believe we are a pair. There is no me without you. I would give anything to change your fate.

Tallis (100%) - You see me in a way no one else does. I cannot hide from you, but I find that I don’t want to. It’s okay if it’s you.

Nyx (90%) - My bothersome little brother. You’re stubborn in your belief that you are not worthy of love, but I’m more stubborn in proving you wrong.

Dian (80%) - Although you can be a persistent thorn in my side, you’re one of my closest friends. You keep me in check and I return the favor. I know you have my best interest at heart.

Moran (75%) - I miss our talks and the time we spent together and your views on the world. You were so much more than a puppet waiting to play their part. We are tied together in the stars.

Flor (60%) - Your heart was far too kind for a cruel world like ours. I try to view your death as a mercy. I don’t know if it’s working. I miss you.

Solei (59%) - Thank you for allowing me to be your shadow. I will always keep your secrets. Hopefully we can meet again one day.

Aurien (57%) - I know you were the one who made our class’s star charts. I appreciate you sharing them with me. Please stay safe, fellow stargazer.

Wren (50%) - There’s something odd about you. I suspect you know more than you let on. Despite that, you were there for me at my lowest, and I’m grateful.

Lang (40%) - Tallis and Nyx loved you so much. Over time, I came to care for you too. I wish things could’ve been different.

Stasya (39%) - More than an acquaintance. A friend perhaps? You didn’t deserve what happened to you. I hope you’re drifting in a nice river somewhere.

Azure (30%) - It is not lost on me that this odd fondness I feel for you only runs one way. Even still, I do not regret mourning you. Your life and death were never a waste of time.

Akane (20%) - I’ve always respected you as my senior. Maybe we could’ve been friends. I see you every night in the moon.

Castor (18%) - I often found you to be annoying and unserious. But you were very important to Nyx, so I tolerated you. I hate how badly you hurt him, but we both know there was no other way.

Elias and Prem (17%) - I still don’t understand why you’re risking so much to help me. Is my benefactor really that important to you? I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

Lark (15%) - Even though I know there was nothing I could do, I still feel like I failed you in some way. Did you know I was there when you were dying? I held your hand the whole time.

Minori (10%) - I’m sorry. I should’ve looked. I should’ve dignified you in your last moments and I didn’t. It is one of my biggest regrets.

Daiki (8%) - I’ll never forgive you for how you spoke about Tallis. But I understand wanting to live for someone you love.

Noora (6%) - You were always such a sweet girl. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand what made you snap. I’m sorry about Lark. Are you together now?

Min (5%) - You saved Himei’s life. For that alone, I am in your debt.

Cirrus (5%) - We have very similar backgrounds. If we spoke, I think we’d find that we have a lot in common. Part of me knew it would end this way.

Tagging: @lookatmysillies (Himei, Tallis, Castor), @rockwgooglyeyes (Nyx, Dian), @geospiral (Moran), @sotogalmo (Flor), @solei-eclipse (Solei), @aurienneirua (Aurien), @its-langgg (Lang), @billwasnot (Stasya), @azureitri (Azure), @aakaneeee (Akane), @kamersona (Lark, Noora), @minori-dash (Minori), @daiki1k (Daiki), @starry-skiez (Min), and @yunoftheclouds (Cirrus).