#ITS SO STUPID THIS GAME HAS HUNDREDS OF SOUNDS AND YOU CHOOSE. THAT????

[opal-owl-flight]

IM LOSING MY GODDAMN MIND THE STUPID NINTENDO ALARMO ON SPLATOON MODE HAS YOU WAKING UP TO FUCKING GUNSHOTS AND WHEN YOU GET OUT OF BED IT CELEBRATES WITH THE SOUND OF AN INKLING EXPLODING. WHAT?

[i4oba]

cassiopeia — njm.

jaemin & fem!reader ✰ soulmate!au

genre: angst?

summary: fate has its own little games, but giving only twenty-four hours is by far the most cruel of them all. and you have to endure that in every life of yours.

warnings: mention’s of death, major character’s death, a few cuss words??, it’s a bit angsty and has some suggestive themes somewhere in the middle :) .. but ofc it was written in flowery language so it’s not that bad! also it’s not proofread, sorry :,( … although it was written like 2 and a half years ago.. eheh SORRY IM STUPIDD

word count: 5k

author’s note: i originally wrote this story in my native language, which made it harder to tell it in english as well.. english isn’t capable of capturing my metaphors!!!! i hate it here!!!!! i sound stupid in english!!!!!!!! >:(

and no matter how many times have you been staring at the night sky, even hundreds of stars weren’t able to show you the right directions. no matter how diligent you were on finding those constellations, recognizing them wasn’t enough to make you less lost in the vast world of ours. you could have done anything as you were lying down on the freshly mowed grass, looking at those stars, alligned even, which you two had always been mentioning over the time — the feeling of emptiness wouldn’t go away. as you focused on the stars and how bright they were glowing, your arms stretched out in hopes of being able to touch them: everything became even more painful. and as your fingers were dancing in the air, from one star to another, your eyes teared up and your mind was screaming only one thing: enough. it was all enough. since you hated this with your whole existence. and the cassiopeia was reminding you of this constantly;

you have never been able to decide whether remembering is worse or forgetting. you would have loved to experience both at least once, but fate gave you a different card. one, which you carefully choose from the big card house, telling you something: your curse is remembering. and as you hold that little card in your hands, glaring at the crimson coloured letters, you feel like screaming all of your bottled up anger out every time. you always feel like protesting against fate, you want to say and do otherwise but were you ever in a place to do so? you have never had the chance. thus you learnt how to bear with it, what else was there to do? getting into a fight with the fates who were so focused on directing your life, having an evil smile on their faces as they were slowly cutting the thread of that person’s life, who was the sole reason you could stay sane? would you have stolen those old and rusty scissors from their hands, putting a dot after their history of standing so tall, being placed higher in the invisible hierarchy between people and them? would you have given some more time to you two? would you have changed past, present and future?

all of it is just a wandering thought which crosses your mind frequently through your days as you live your boring life. you spend every day with planning out your dirty little revenge, and end it with the conclusion: you’re unable to do it. admitting it felt like losing a game against something you could not even see. and this uncertainity put you in a state of something close to insanity through every life you have lived as the time has passed.

through these lives, you have experienced so many things but the worst part was always those twenty-four hours, which was completed with more and more tears and pain as the centuries passed. in the first lifespan you were pretty much naive, hopeful and happy, that twenty-four hour only made you confused. you could not process what was happening. but later on, you figured it out, having to accept the misery that came with it. you could understand why all of this is such a big sacrifice. in your fourth life have you cried first and you can still feel the fingers wiping your hot tears away, the ice cold feeling of them leaving an unforgettable trace on your skin. to this day, you still vividly remember that moment and feeling how trying hard was never enough, and the bittersweet taste lingering in your mouth has slowly started to fade away. it has become meaningless. harsh and almost so cruel.

but you still didn’t know which one is worse: being the one who forgets or remembering everything so vividly.

jaemin will never be able to comprehend this. after all, he didn’t have to live those grey lives which was coordinated by the suffocating feeling of trying to reach solutions and having to give up. after all, he wasn’t the one who had to watch his loved one’s death over and over again and he wasn’t the one either who had to carry the weight of the pain this caused. since he got the card of forgetting, which was followed by one single thing since gambling with the ones from above is not that clear and easy as we all think it is.

and the price did not only made his life worse, it controlled yours as well.

the first time you have heard the definiton of a “soulmate”, you were halfway through your sixth life. back then, even saying the word felt so strange but as you said it out loud more and more, having the thought of it in your mind constantly, it made you realize something: you and jaemin are the best, exact example of those said soulmates. but inside a horrible cage you weren’t able to leave. it had the feeling of a really bad book which was written by a prestigious author who had a really evil side to their personality. you could even imagine his pen scratching the paper, completed with the blue ink which allegorically wrote the story of you two. a terrible fairy tale that people use to scare their children, saying that this is going to be their fate if they misbehave. and as one of them, you would have believed their words. you would have been terrified. you were in fact scared, that cannot be denied.

on top of that, you had to live in this story, through so many years. no matter how many times you were praying, down on your knees, waiting for it to reach its end, you did not get what you wanted. and you have always felt like it wasn’t fair. ruthlessness transcending through lives which your friends didn’t have to experience. you had hundreds of them but somehow they were lucky. you were counting down the hours, the minutes and even the seconds as if it was like a test, but they always failed. they were able to not get lost in the maze of fate that trapped you and jaemin inside. they were special, all of them.

or were you two the special ones?

you were completely sure about your answer: no. although the thought of being the “chosen ones” has crossed your mind before, as if you two were something like a transcendent, but as years passed, along with centuries and lives, you could only figure one thing: you will never be fully happy. happiness is relative anyway, something you can’t put your hands on, it’s everything around us and everything that’s not at the same time. it seems so far away from you at moments, but on other days it’s so close you could reach it easily but no one could really define what it really is. it’s different in everyone’s lives, the way it becomes the same with many different things, varying on the person. even the sound of the word was music to the ears even if they didn’t know what it is exactly. everyone gets to know it along their journey, their lifetime and they may be lucky to being able to put their fingers on it, they can feel it and they can drag it with themselves.

for you, happiness was the same as those twenty-four hours that guided you through your lives. that small amount of time that you were keen on finding as soon as possible, putting everything on the line. which meant everything and nothing at the same time. and the thought of this was always able to bring some light into your rather bitter life, where the shadows grew too huge, close to consume you completely.

just like in your present life. which, of course isn’t really that bad, it is one of the best ones, to be quite honest but the emptiness inside of you was quite like a dark hole. it made you hopeless even though you had a goal. one that was so dear to you, saint even, which you could have tried to explain to anyone, none of them would have understood it. everyone thought you’re crazy and that you need therapy. even if the last one was true, you knew you’re going to eventually find jaemin, may it be on a rainy day in a bus stop, in a diner’s silent corner or in the university you’re currently attending.

but no. none of these were correct. every time you went to these places, fate was trickier than you would have thought and this was well-known to you.

you had to face this in a newly opened museum which had the slogan, “only miracles are awaiting here”.

how true this was… a real miracle.

as you walked from rooms to the others, all alone, somehow all thoughts left your mind. as if it was the cure, the new atmosphere and the exhibition, as if running back into the past had an effect similar to a band aid. it could get its job done for a while but sooner or later, it would give up as well. just like every solution you had tried out in the past years. nothing was permanent and there was no guarantee.

while you were staring at those paintings, listening to other people’s excited conversations, all you could think of was the loneliness. shivers went down your spine, the consonants following the vowels, creating something so new and so negative. the word you hated the most. and the word that was the title of the oil painting in front of you, seemingly too perfect for the symbolic work of art. a bad feeling took over you. you paid one last look to the framed beauty, glaring at the darkness and the pitch black shadows. after that, you left the room. the heavy atmosphere and the pictures of nightmare.

that’s when you entered the smallest exhibition hall where only a piece of paper was shown. it was protected with thick glass, making you wonder why is it such a big deal. why would they keep an old, yellow paper where the words were probably blurred together in the exhibition? it is supposed to be in the archives anyway, or does it not? putting these thoughts aside, you took a few steps closer to the “artwork”, eyebrows raised as curiosty took over you.

“love letter from the eighteenth century” was written on the little description, so you bent down a little to take a better look and maybe figure out why it was so special. and staring at those two papers which turned brown in the past years, the big realisation hit you: it was your letter. you wrote it. becoming aware of this fact made you froze in an instant, only being able to read the text filled with beautifully written cursive over and over again. and then you looked up, only to meet with a pair of eyes through the glass.

the person you wrote the letter for.

looking at him with the barrier between you two, suddenly you didn’t know what to do. seeing his face, his beautiful smile, it felt like someone gave you some extra energy. before your brain could have reacted to all of this, your legs took the control, running to him. you hugged him, melting into his touch, trying to embrace his fragrance, hoping that it will linger a little longer in your nose and mind as well. you didn’t want to believe this. nor what was coming next, alongside with the reunion.

“sorry for being late” he whispered while he stroked your hair carefully, arms tight around you. as if the moment was going on forever, it made you forget about everything. it made you feel glad. your own little happiness has found you again. but it cannot stay so long.

“i could wait thousands of years for you, jaemin” you told him truthfully, eyes searching for his. you hugged him once again. you couldn’t get enough of his hugs. “there are so many things we have to discuss, i literally… don’t even know where to start” you intertwined your fingers and dragged him with you, him simply letting you do so. since he knew: you have been waiting for this moment to come for so long. this is why you were suffering for years on end. but before you could have leave the basement, he set a timer.

for twenty-four hours.

“and how was… basically everything so far?” you asked jaemin who was picking at the food in front of him, not having the courage to look at you.

“not that nice” he replied and you heard his voice being a little hesitant. “but hey, at least i don’t have to bear it anymore!” he tried to joke about the situation but your worried glance told him to stop. don’t do it. it’s not funny.

“i really have to apologize for not finding you soon enough.”

“no, please, don’t. you should never blame yourself” he reached out for your hands, stroking it with his thumbs carefully. “it’s not your fault. neither mine. it’s just a bad joke of those who think they are above us. we cannot do anything about that.”

“and neither against it…”

“look, y/n” jaemin cleared his throat before continuing. “in these rather short lives of mine, i figured out something. fate cannot be rewritten nor changed. everything’s going to happen like it was decided before. just imagine a big book that’s made by gods. our story is just one part of that great book which consists of other many tales, millions of them. we are too small and worthless to add to our story, we can’t complete it however we would love to. that’s their job to do. they are the only ones that are able to erase things and make something new out of them. they are everything we have and we are nothing more than a small piece of the big picture to them.”

“we’re only just marionettes which they can play with whenever they want to” you added mumbling quietly. jaemin was chewing on his lips while he nodded. eventhough admitting it hurts, your words meant the truth.

you two were only mere props in the endless play with the name of “the cycle of life”.

“but hey, no need to be sad!” he wiped the tears aways as soon as he spotted one crossing your face in a fast pace. “we should enjoy this day so we could annoy the gods! are you in?” he stood up, grabbing your hands carefully. and you gave in. what else would you have done? after all, you were the one stressing endlessly through your whole life, it would have been a pity to miss the chance;

on the passenger seat of jaemin’s really old toyota, so many things were running in your mind. as you were focusing on the picturesque landscape, too many thoughts were attacking you suddenly — were you even able to sort those out in the dusty storage of your mind? only the warm touch of jaemin’s hand, feeling too hot on your legs, made you go back and forth between one thing and being sane.

and as if he read your mind, he gave voice to it.

“there’s no such thing as impossible, knowing and feeling how love transcends time and space, it’s...”

your head jerked up upon hearing his words. you wanted to solve your dear lover’s expression. the way the last words fall out of his lips and how those said lips were slightly smiling while his eyes were searching for yours. everything felt so surreal. you were weak and small but the thing between you was able to make you believe the opposite: you are the strongest of them all.

which, being completely serious, is true. since enduring all those lives is something only the strongest people can do. only they are able to watch the person they were assigned to, slowly fading away between their fingers;

reaching the local park, this was all you could think about. the memories you have made with jaemin only became sharper and even him being there with you, weren’t able to heal your scars. he held your hand, smiled and told you multiple times: he loves you. everytime he repeated those three words, the slight worry always became more and more visible. no matter how strongly you were holding onto the boy, it has became more clear: you’re going to lose him either way.

but that’s the thing you should think about the least. you need to focus on enjoying every moment. the fact that you can sit comfortably on the checkered blanket with him, spending a whole day together. the fact that you can have a picnic, you can talk for hours on end, your love is not unrequited anymore. you could have hide it but the years made you sometimes too unamused.

“why aren’t we ending this already?” you asked mindlessly, and as soon as you put a grape in your mouth, you regretted your words as jaemin’s face slowly became serious.

“please, don’t say things like this, okay? enjoy this day to its fullest. i want to love you until i go crazy. at least through this damn day.”

“i’ve loved you through this whole lifetime” you told him, fighting the urge to cry. “you have no idea how hard it is to think about it every god damn day. if people think you’re insane and let you rot in your own, personal pit. you don’t know how much it hurts to get in your bed, knowing that you have to go through your lover’s… your soulmate’s death someday. the one’s death that you love the most in the whole universe.” your voice was filled with uncontrollable emotions — regret rushed over you seeing him, teary eyed and confused.

“maybe. but dying isn’t that nice either.” his reply was bitter and his intention was clear: he wanted to leave you and calm down a bit. but you didn’t let him. you reached out for his hand and pulled him closer to yourself. he stared into your eyes but you didn’t say a word. that’s why he broke the silence. “all day, all i can focus on is that we can’t have a family. i can’t have a kid and i can’t grow old with you. i cannot love you utterly and completely for a whole lifetime. they took everything from us, that’s true… but let’s do something against that. please.”

“what could we do, jaemin? even if i shout at the sky above us, nothing will change! i’ve had enough and i just…”

before you could have finished your sentence, a big dog that was previously running around in the park, came to you two, sniffing your basket and deciding on being your company. your little argue was cut off by a golden retriever who was looking at you and jaemin, big eyes filled with curiosity. and you got a kiss from the dog too!

“isn’t this what other people call… little doze of happiness?” you said quietly, peeking at jaemin while petting the dog, looking at his collar, searching for a name. “buddy! what a cute name!”

“you see, y/n? that’s what i want. rendezvous, petting dogs, joy and sunshine. why can’t we get this?”

why?

what you have learnt from your experiences is one single thing: time is money and it won’t wait. as if the hours were passing by much faster in those twenty-four hours, one can be gone in a blink of an eye. you despised this, you have always hated that it had to be like this way, that you couldn’t stop time or travel to a whole another universe, waking up in a world where you can have a happy life with your dear lover.

the night came by so quickly you didn’t even realize its presence at first. the hours were going so fast, you couldn’t process the speed of it. you could only avert your attention from it as much as you were possibly able to. and in that moment, laying in the grass and gazing at the stars, it felt like as if you wasted every precious minute. but it felt so nice, eyes focused on the starry night, stars glowing shinier than one another, hands intertwined and fingers pointing at the sky. you gave the stars names and were adamant on finding more and more constellations. stargazing was what you two loved the most.

and then you saw the cassiopeia. the one thing that could remind you of the endless loop you and jaemin were in. spotting the constellation, you stood up in the grass and looked at your lover. his moonlit figure was equivalent to the most beautiful artwork in the whole universe. you were disgustingly in love with him. and that came with pain. so much pain.

“shouldn’t we go inside?” you asked suddenly, playing with your fingers while trying to avoid his gaze.

“you want to go in, love?”

you could only nod as an answer but he did what you wanted, without asking any further questions. he wanted to make you happy, more than anything. he wanted to see an honest smile on your face which can warm his heart up. since not only you were in a panic, he was too. but he preferred to not show it.

eventhough he was a master of everything else. and he showed it to you that night.

such heavenly words left his lips, he could have made a whole essay out of it, filled with emotions he wanted to show you on that short night that was given by fate; love, care and gratitude came out of his actions as he was talking to you, the way he handled everything. the way he mumbled in your ears without stop, the magical word “love” being repeated over and over, the way he touched you, the way he kissed you and the way he hugged you. he perfectly knew everything about you, he knew about your soft spots, he knew every inch of your body and he was so eager to discover it all over again since he can never get enough of you. he loved to trace his fingers over your figure, losing control here and there with those touches, reaching places that were the most precious to him. he loved to see how you reacted, how you said his name after every, sweet kiss of his, the way your voice was so shaky with every passing minute. as if he was playing a game with you, but that wasn’t the case. he showed you his true colours and you did the same. you were an open book in front of him, waiting for a sign from him. a small stroke of a brush which indicates that he was there. the marks blooming in thousands of colours, blue and purple, looking like the galaxy from above. you were like canvas to him, his signature on the corner of the painting, as if he was the painter. the artist. which was true, after all.

and as you were holding those stars in your hands, previously seen on the sky, you felt like you entered heaven. it had a feeling of warmth, the way those bright stars were in your hands, put there by jaemin. you could finally have it and you never wanted to let go of it. you could see that kind of reflection in your dear lover’s eyes, mirroring the honest feelings, the loyalty that connected you two. it was able to warm your heart up before crushing it. breaking it into millions of pieces.

that’s how it was with him. although it should have been much different.

and the brightest stars of them all, was brought the closest to you. you held it tightly and you were so stubborn on never letting it go. you closed your eyes and all you could focus on was jaemin’s quiet murmurs next to you.

dreams took you by surprise, although you wanted to avoid sleeping. but now, somehow you didn’t care about anything anymore. you gave in and entered dreamland together. close to each other — the closest ever.

at least during the night, you could pretend to be normal people. at least for a night.

waking up, the first thing that came to mind was checking up on the remaining time but as your eyes met jaemin and how peacefully he slept, time seemed to stop for a while. for a few moments, you could only study his face, the way he seemed so relaxed and comfortable. you watched his chest moving with every breath he took. you would have loved to give him a sweet little kiss but you didn’t have the heart to wake him up. eventhough you were aware of the fact: minutes are passing by in a hurry and every blink was equal to the end of your happiness.

“since when are you looking this attentively, love?” he asked in a sleepy voice before he opened his eyes. the corner of his lips went up a little as he felt your touch on his face. plus the small peck you greeted him with made the day a hundred times better. “i won’t lie if i say that you are the best thing the universe has ever created” his mumble was almost inaudible but you could still hear caring ringig in his speech.

for a long time, this was the first morning when waking up, you could hear the birds’ music so clear. the soft kind of song which mixed with the early rays of the sun, them not being able to fully warm up the room. everything felt so idillic, like it was a fairy tale. and if it hadn’t got such depressing ending, you would have agreed it was one.

“how did you say two lives before?” jaemin smiled and squeezed your hands, looking up and down on your face. “even the sun rose up today so it can follow the last few hours of our sorrowful tragicomedy?”

“how can you remember so perfectly? i mean… i am the one who should never forget, isn’t that true?” you shook your head, your grip on his hands tightening.

“looking at you calls out the hidden memories buried in the depths of my mind, you know.”

the rest of the day was dedicated to trying to enjoy it as much as you could, even if there wasn’t that much time in your hands. you had a long walk, holding each other’s hand, you ate delicious foods and tried everything that’s considered as the “perfect date”, corny things you have only seen in romance movies. it felt like the most treasured possession you had — time. after every kiss you gave to jaemin, you tried to remind him how thankful you were, stressing out the word “treasure”, letting him analyze the word as well. letting him repeat is and define whether it’s worth everything or nothing. whether it’s equal to love or not.

in the last hour of your time that was given, you two went back to your family’s house and its large backyard. no one was home so it made it much easier to sit on the ground and look at the sky once again, following the clouds’ slow pace.

“my current mother told me once that love takes something with itself every time…” jaemin said suddenly, out of nowhere, attentively looking at one certain cloud which he identified as a ‘dog’, based on its shape.

“what do you mean by that?”

“this is what love takes from us.” he mumbled, not really sure of his words. maybe he’s saying dumb stuff and his theory isn’t actually right.

“your current mother is right, i fear” only a sigh escaped your lips but you still continued, eyes fixed on the sky. “we have to pay for being together. but why is the price so high?”

you didn’t get any answers to your question, only a hum. you knew this is what’s going to happen, you didn’t wait for anything else. after all, jaemin barely knew anything about the world, maybe half of your knowledge was there for him, perhaps even less than that. if you couldn’t find the answer, why would he suddenly get the idea? you had centuries to think about it and he always forgot everything. maybe he was the one who won. in your eyes, it seemed like that.

as time passed and the sun started to set, you felt it coming. the last kiss was shared twenty minutes ago, too weak already. but his hand… you did not let go of that. you weren’t ready to lose him. you believed you would give him strength, that you can spare his life. but no, it was not the case. as you embraced him, all you could focus on was his heavy breathing and the way he told you nonchalantly: “i don’t want to die, it hurts”. tears were falling down on his face which was so pale and full of misery. his voice lost its colour slowly and everything felt like the worst nightmare one could think of.

“y/n, i… it hurts…”

his hands were weak and cold. you stroked his face, barely touching him because of the fear: you might cause more pain. you ran your fingers through his hair and found his gaze. yours was fixed on his iris, trying to look for the solution in there — it might be hidden. the last little piece of the final formula. but you couldn’t find it. you’ve never been able to.

the last sentence you heard from him in the current lifetime of yours consisted of three words. three simple yet so heartwarming words, barely escaping his lips.

“i love you.”

and you had to witness the agony of death once again, it was the price for the day. for your everything.

everything started all over again. greyness and gloom took over your life as the last little source of light faded away slowly, vanishing completely. and before you could have thought it’s going to be different this time, you knew it’s not true.

since that’s not what the book of fate had carved into its chapters. you two were destined for something else.

“i love you too, jaemin.”

[ofliterarynature]

TBR TAKEDOWN: Week 2 (June 9)

TLDR: I have too many unread books, and I’m asking tumblr to help me downsize. Pick one or none, and comment if you can - a convincing sentence is worth a dozen votes! You’re also welcome to just choose the one that sounds the worst :D Book descriptions below the cut, see my pinned post for more info.

Crafty Cat Crimes: 100 Tiny Cat Mysteries

The game is afoot, and the four footed are its most cunning players in Crafty Cat Crimes. In one hundred cagey cat-tale mysteries, the largest literary litter of kitty crimestoppers ever convened in one volume prowl the mean streets in pursuit of feline felons, justice, just desserts--and the occasional pat on the head. You don't have to be a cat lover to enjoy these stories of crime and intrigue. You just have to like challenging mysteries where a twist in the tale comes naturally. There is virtually no crime these cats don't put the paw on. Whether confronted with cat burglary, catnapping, or murder most foul, they work through seemingly insoluble puzzles with a stealth, feline finickiness, and silent grace that are the envy of their two-footed counterparts.

Crafty Cat Crimes includes selections to suit every reader's taste: cat cozies for the domestic-minded, comic cat capers that look at the funny side of human and animal relationships, even hardboiled escapades that mix cats and gats

The War of Don Emmanuel’s Nether Parts by Louis de Bernières

When the spoilt and haughty Dona Constanza tries to divert a river to fill her swimming pool, she starts a running battle with the locals. The skirmishes are so severe that the government dispatches a squadron of soldiers led by the fat, brutal, and stupid Figueras to deal with them.

Despite visiting plagues of laughing fits and giant cats upon the troops, the villagers know that to escape the cruel and unusual tortures planned for them, they must run. Thus they plan to head for the mountains and start a new convivial civilization.

Belinda by Rhoda Broughton

"Must I always be an angel, or a goddess?" If anyone knew how sick I am of being a goddess! I declare I should be thankful to be called a Fury, or even a Ghoul, for a change!"

Dresden in the 1880s is the perfect place to enjoy the spring, driving in open carriages in the Grosse Garten, visiting delightful Schlosses nearby. In just such a manner Belinda and Sarah Churchill while away the month of May, their happiness marred only by Sarah's (seventh) fiance, the dried-up academic, Professor Forth. Belinda has fallen in love with a young student, David Rivers, who loves her too. But in this age of reticence and propriety, when women are idealized yet cannot speak their mind, the course of true love can easily be diverted. Suddenly David is recalled to England and Belinda, finding herself alone, resigns herself to a life of loveless duty amongst the dreaming spires of Oxbridge. Here her trials and tribulations, with gay young students and crusty old professors alike, provide a wonderfully witty satire on the arid joys of the Groves of masculine Academe.

[uncleskyrule]

for the fic writer ask game, 1, 26, 30, and 41? :))))

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

Oh boy, this is tough. I experiment with writing styles frequently, so idk if there's just one that could be a good introduction to them all. Still, I guess I'll go with this one: "alive again" (short oneshot of post-BotW Zelink being cute and silly).

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

Lol since you sent this ask, I've written two entire fics without dialogue: "this one at last" (TotK Zelda's POV of waiting for LInk) and "you waited smiling for this" (HW Link's journey of self-destruction and then healing). I'm interested in trying out a dialogue-only fic, but I don't have any ideas yet. There has to be a reason why there's only dialogue, y'know? I don't want to just write it that way just because.

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

Yes, and I'm so proud of it! I've never written whump or any kind of fight scene, and definitely have never mixed humor and angst before, so writing this fic was a challenge, but it totally worked! One commenter said that this fic felt like someone put Looney Tunes music over an action film, and the compliment hasn't left my head since. Without further ado, I present "holding out for a beedle" (BotW Link gets captured and tortured by Yiga but Beedle saves the day).

Maybe this fic affected my approach to writing by giving me confidence to explore more. Now that I know I can write a decent fight scene, I want to try to push myself to write something more in depth, like a spar between HW Zelink.

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

HAh, you think just ONE fic will suffice??? I had a hard time choosing from my bookmarks list but here are some that fit the bill:

I STOP TO SMELL THE BLOOD IN THE TREES AND FOR A MOMENT THE WORLD IS SO BEAUTIFUL IT BRINGS ME TO TEARS by @corpsentry

“Let’s say you’ve been asleep for a hundred years and when you wake up you’ve lost all your memories, but you defeat the big bad monster like you’ve been told to, because a girl told you to, and because you were in love with her. And after defeating the big bad monster she comes back, only she’s not the person she was a hundred years ago. And you’re not the person you were a hundred years ago. And yet every time you look at her, your chest hurts so bad you think you might be dying.” He looks up from his breadstick. “Am I dying?” “No,” Beedle says. “I think you’re stupid.”

among golden hues by @syilcawrites

[totk] Link and Zelda reunite (in one form or another)

on gods and deserts and children by @lemoncakedesign

he is the hero chosen by the goddess. he is the bearer of the legendary blade. he is the savior of a land. he is a child. he is a killer.

Hold your faith in death and don't breathe by @sister-dear

The thing Legend hasn’t told Sky, hasn’t told any of them: Twilight isn’t the only one with an item that lets its user change shape at will. The thing Sky hasn’t told any of them: his version of the Master Sword has a few special tricks of its own.

Old Car, New Roads by Anonymous (TT)

A hum of an old engine in distress fills the air as a dark lowrider pulls up in front of the rows of storage units. The beater pull to a jerking stop in front of his garage unit. The brakes lurch unhappily and Four cringes at the sound of the wheels. The whole car vibrates unhealthily before coming to a stop as the engine cuts out. The window rolls down with a squeak and Shadow pops his head out, arm leaning out of the opening. He's got dark sunglasses and the hood of his jacket pulled up to protect him from the midday sun. "So?" Shadow asks, smirk pulling at his lips, "What do you think?"

Thanks for the ask, Evie!

[ziracona]

Ok so, i see we are viewing the issue of Tranquility from very different points of view. You are seeing as a rights issue only, while i'm not. As a health professional Cassandra's and Solas' attitude is the ethically right one to deal with a treatment who isn't undertood beyond it's capacity to bring harm to the patient (in this case also others, because of the out-of-control magic).

If Cassandra was truly lying about her intentions to spread knowledge of the Cure once it was understood (something that realistically would take longer than the 2 years until Tresspasser) we will only know for certain in Dreadwolf. But i will say that it doesn't make's sense for her characterization to do so. Cassandra's main defining trait is searching and revealing the truth, it's core of every piece of her arc and interactions with other characters.

I don’t really care if it’s in character for her? Characterization in dAI was all over the place anyway. Trying to argue a point by what makes sense is a losing battle with the writing quality in that game, and it’s not what I’m talking about anyway.

From a health perspective, she’s in the wrong. People have a right to know they have options besides dying, and hiding information and conducting tiny studies alone even just intellectually is neither efficient or medically sound, especially considering Cassandra has no personal expertise in tranquility. That’s stupid. It’s also not a exactly health issue. Any more than a lobotomy is. They mind control rip out part of a brain. That’s not cancer bro. Also, it isn’t ‘understood beyond its potential to cause the patient harm.’ That’s ONE HUNDRED % a HYPOTHESIS. It’s not ‘understood’ at all, although the small imperical data that exists would suggest the opposite. Seekers are fine, and that’s the closest we have for comparison. Again, the idea mages cured of tranquility would become a danger to others and themselves is entirely a hypothesis, to begin with. You can’t say withholding life saving treatment for thousands of people based off a bigot’s bigoted belief influenced hypothesis is ‘ethically correct.’

When temporarily cured in DA2, Karl is fairly scared, but calm and rational mostly, certainly not angry or dangerous. Cassandra, an under qualified person not remotely of the minority being affected even, is making herself judge, jury, and executioner, then choosing a hypothesis to work from that’s oppressive to begin with, because of her history of religious indoctrination. I don’t like hate Cass, but she is a complicated character, as people are, and she’s a flawed religious bigot in a lot of areas, and hasn’t fixed many issues with herself. And that’s fucked. Especially considering she is /part of the structure of authority/ that has done this in the first place. It’s like being an assistant for doctors who did lobotomies and finding out ‘Oh wow. We did this to women who just were emotional or foreign, or people other people needed silenced, and it actually totally doesn’t help and is super fucked up. And uh. Actually we can undo this procedure holy shit we could save everyone we hurt’ and then going ‘mmmm but I worry personally that all these people we lobotomized in institutions might lash out if cured, so I, part of the oppressive system that did this to them in the first place, not a medical doctor though just some rando, decide on my own it’s my choice to withhold treatment until I’m 100% sure it can be cured with no side effects because that’s responsible : ) and I’m also not consulting any of their families or people who have undergone procedures or medical doctors I’m just doing this shit hehe bc I’m the Moral Center of the Universe.’

It’s not ok. Or right, or good. Also, you can’t take ethics out of medicine. The Hypcratic oath is taken for a reason. Doctors need to consider ethics in the complex issues they deal with, because guess what? Ethics come up literally constantly in medicine babe. Constantly. And when doctors decide to be cold and clinical and super personally biased, which they do way too often, we get rampant malpractice, and we get eugenics. I’m not viewing it as a rights issue only, but you’re not viewing it as one at all. Which, if you’re actually a health professional, gross. But sadly not surprising. You literally cannot divorce medicine from ethics though you have constantly got to be considering how your actions and inactions impact the people in your care. That’s the goddamn point of healing.

I’m right, and I don’t really have any reason to want to argue with you. I was making a meme for fun, and get nothing out of discussing this with someone I’ve never seen before. You’re the one going out of your way to debate a stranger over a joke that made you uncomfortable, I’m assuming because you like Cass, and can also tell there’s some truth in what I say, because people laugh and move on, not lash out, when they see stuff, unless they feel threatened by it. Just block or ignore me like a normal person and go about your life if arguing is what you want, because I’m way too tired to want to spend my time and energy debating people I don’t even know, stuff I already know I’m right about and literally am sure they won’t change their mind about either. Why would I want to argue with a brick wall?? And for that matter, why would you? Is either of us the arbiter of Dragon Age Truth? No. We’re two strangers with different moral codes and intellectual interests and knowledge and yeah one of us is right and that’s me, but I’m not asking for a debate and you won’t get anything out of debating me any more than I will debating you, so please leave me alone. I didn’t ask for this. It’s just a meme. You can let it go.

[tundraglitch]

The Human Factor, Einstein and the Games at Play in the Universe

If you were asked “Does God play dice with the Universe?”, what would be your answer?

It is well reknown the answer Einstein gave to this question, basing mostly his belief on his theory of relativity: a sound NO, a firm convition that everyhing in the universe is following an already written story.

In fact what is the consequence of saying that time isn’t something equal for everyone, but it depends on the obsever and its relative velocity?

It means that someone who is fast enough is already in the future respect to someone who is stationary.

Maybe while I’m writing this blog post, a super fast flying saucer in a point of the space is looking back at the Earth a hundred of years from now, when everything I’ll do or every stupid I’ll say in my own future, is something that has already happened.

According to Einstein time is a dimension where past, present and future are illusions of the mind: time and space are the same thing, every point in the room where I am right now coexist in a continous space, exactly like yesterday, today and tomorrow coexist in time.

The consequence is that my free will seems something not really relevant: if I’m already in the past for someone else, am I deciding anything in reality?

Again, Einstein would say that yes, free will is another illusion, better than that, he said the following:

“If the moon, in the act of completing its eternal way around the earth, were gifted with self-consciousness, it would feel thoroughly convinced that it was traveling its way of its own accord on the strength of a resolution taken once and for all. So would a Being, endowed with higher insight and more perfect intelligence, watching man and his doings, smile about man's illusion that he was acting according to his own free will. “

But what can I say to console myself about the fact that passing an hour choosing the right font for an article is better than choosing the first one at random, because the universe has already decided that font for me?

Well it can be a small consolation, but when philosopy crosses science everyone can have their saying. So like a detective searching for clues, I’ll search what I can say to save my right to make mistake that are only my fault and not decided by some equation running in the background of the stars, so I’ll point to the fact that in his honoured career Einstein wasn’t always right.

For example for a long time Einstein thaught that the Universe was static, the stars fixed in their place, now and forever: because his equations weren’t predicting a static universe, he added a “cosmological constant” to them so to make the Universe static as he liked. Later many experiments, in particular from Edwin Hubble, demonstrated that the univere was instead expanding, because the light from the stars showed the phenomenon of red-shifting, indicating that the stars were accelerating. In the end Einstein reconsidered his opionions and he admitted his error, defining the cosmological constant his greater blunder. Einsteins remains an icredible genius nonetheless, but what makes his error so precious to me is that when it comes to translating the results of calculations or of experiments to “laws” that govern life, sometimes it is “the human factor”, the totality of dreams, hopes and sometimes prejudice to guide the mind, rather than an incontestable applications of the said laws. Einstein wanted to believe in an ordered universe and he tried to find a way to the universe he liked through calculations: I understand that, I wish I could think everything really make sense as well, but I’d accept a bit of chaos in exchange of my free will. Another clue: Einsten theories cannot explain quantum physics mechanics, so we can say that maybe he didn’t have the full picture at hand, leaving to my free will a space where everything can happen: it’s big like a quantum particle, but is full of expectations. What would I answer about the dice and the universe? Well, I have my own bag of dreams, hopes and maybe prejudice as well, but I would say that judging by what happens, this universe isn’t just a game of dice, it is the full casino.

[crowhyun]

LEVEL INFINITY

Chapter One

Chapter Warnings: cursing, monsters

Pairing(s): (Y/N) x ???

Series Warnings: eventual smut, death, blood, kinda scary

Masterlist

Next

"Beomgyu, no..." You said, your eyes widening at the game the boy slammed down on the table.

"Beomgyu, yes!" He said with a wicked smile.

"You're a fucking idiot." Taehyun said. "An Ouija board would've been safer than this."

"Do you guys actually believe those dumb creepy pasta YouTube videos?" Beomgyu scoffed. "They're just fake, and the game is probably fun."

You looked at the board game with weary eyes. 'Level Infinity' it read. You’ve seen the videos hundreds of times. You play the game, and the game plays you. "Beomgyu, this isn't a good idea. I'm not playing."

"Oh, come on." Beomgyu pouted. "We have nothing else to do."

"We could maybe go to sleep? It's three AM." Taehyun said.

"Despite the name, you actually don't go to sleep in sleepovers." Beomgyu retorted. "Come on, guys, just one game? One? Then we'll go to sleep. Creepy pastas aren't real, they're just to scare you."

"I fucking swear Beomgyu- one game." Taehyun rolled his eyes. Beomgyu's eyes lit up at this then he looked at you. You didn't even want to play the stupid game, but you also didn't want to be left out. Who knows? It could be fun.

"I guess I'll play..." You said.

"Yes!" Beomgyu exclaimed. "Okay guys, choose your characters. I choose...this one." Beomgyu held up a scary looking character with tentacles coming from its back. "Reminds me of slendy."

"He's so weird..." Taehyun murmured under his breath. "I'll take this one." He picked one with large claws for hands.

"These characters are weird. What's the point of them looking like that?" You said, frowning.

"I don't know, girl, pick one." Beomgyu said, wanting to get on with the game.

You looked them over. There was one with horns on its head, one with wings that had sharp looking feathers, and one with a creepy looking smile.

"I guess I'll pick this one." You picked the one with the wings.

"Finally, now let me go over the rules." Beomgyu searched for the paper rules in the box before pulling out a single sheet that looked like it was worn with time. "Hm...so it says to start at the 'begin' square and roll the... dodecahedron...? Whatever that is. Anyways, after you get past this red square, you have to pick a card to tell you what to do next on your next turn. Sounds easy enough. Let's play."

"Okay, but what’s the final objective? Is there any more on the paper?" You asked.

"Nope, that was it." Beomgyu shrugged.

"Well, I'm going first since I'm the mature one." Taehyun said. You rolled your eyes. He always said that, when in reality, he was no more mature than the both of you. He grabbed the 12-sided dye, and tossed it across the board. You watched it tumble around until it landed on six. He moved his character past the red square, which was square four.

"My turn." Beomgyu said before you could and he snatched the dice, rolling it. After watching in suspense, it landed on the number 9. "Ooh, I got further than Taehyun, ha."

You rolled your eyes, then rolled the dice after Beomgyu moved his character. You pouted when it landed on one, making Beomgyu and Taehyun laugh.

"This shit's rigged..." You mumbled, moving your winged character a mere step.

"I gotta get a card now?" Taehyun asked and Beomgyu nodded. Taehyun grabbed one of the red cards and flipped it over to read it. "The smilers may be too hostile. Move up one square...whatever that means." He moved up one square.

"How do you not know what a smiler is?" Beomgyu scoffed. "Good thing you moved up one square, smilers are dangerous." Beomgyu then picked up a card as well. "You may be suited for the skinners. If you believe so. Move 0 squares. Ugh, whatever."

"Beomgyu, what's a smiler and a skinner?" You asked him, confused with what this all meant. "Shouldn't there be an info card somewhere? Or at least some descriptions?"

"Is there anything on the box?" Taehyun asked, and Beomgyu looked at the box, but all it had was the title and absolutely nothing else. Beomgyu shrugged.

"It's a poorly made game that originated from social media." Beomgyu said. "(Y/N), your turn. We'll just see how everything turns out, I guess."

You sighed, slowly starting to become uninterested in this game. You rolled the die, it stopping at zero. "There's a zero?!"

"Huh? It's a dodecahedron, there is no zero." Taehyun said.

"Well, apparently, you're wrong, because it clearly says zero right there." You pointed to it.

"Then where did the one go? You rolled a one the first time." Beomgyu frowned, picking up the die and looking at each side for the one. Once he turned it back around, he paused. "What? Guys, I think I'm going crazy."

"What is it?" Taehyun asked with interest.

"The one is right here, but it's where the zero was." Beomgyu said.

"What are you talking about? Give me that." Taehyun snatched the die out of Beomgyu's hand, examining it for himself. After a couple of seconds, he looked back up at you guys with wide eyes.

"He's right. There's no zero, now." He handed it to you to see, but all you got was confusion.

"What do you guys mean?" You said. "There is no one, it's a zero." You looked all around the die, searching for the one, but it still had a zero on the spot that it landed on. "Is this a fucking joke? Don't do that to me, guys."

"Do what? There's no zero on it!" Beomgyu frowned. "It said zero at first, but for some reason, it's a one now. Are you blind?"

"Yah, (Y/N), be serious right now." Taehyun said in a scolding tone.

"I am being serious, I literally don't see a one on this die right now. It goes from zero to two." You said, trying to show them what you saw. Taehyun and Beomgyu looked at each other in silence, then looked at me as if I was crazy. "This is fucking weird, I don't want to play this game anymore." You tossed the die on the board, and tried to get up so you could get a snack, but for some reason, you plopped right back on the ground, hard.

"Oh my god, (Y/N)!" Beomgyu said, pointing to your feet, and you thought he was just being over-dramatic as usual, but once you saw genuine fear in his eyes, you quickly looked down at your feet. Instead of seeing your black socks, you saw what looked like a highly pixelated 2D surface.

"What the actual fuck?!" Taehyun said, trying to scoot back on the floor, but nearly falling on his back due to his hand that was in the same condition as your feet. He looked at his pixelated hand in fear and he held his wrist in front of him.

"Guys, please tell me that you two are playing a prank on me." Beomgyu gulped. "I don't know how you two are doing it, but it's not funny."

"Does this look like a prank to you?!" Taehyun yelled in anger and frustration, making Beomgyu flinch back. Your breathing was labored and it felt like you were going to barf as the pixels started to spread up your leg.

"It's spreading!" You panicked.

"M-maybe it's the game..." Beomgyu said, and there's nothing more you wanted to do at that moment but chuck a textbook at his head.

"Maybe it's the game..." Taehyun repeated with a humorless chuckle and wide eyes, showing that he believed Beomgyu was a sack of shit right now.

Beomgyu reached for the box only to notice that both of his hands were pixelated and it was visibly moving up the expanse of his arms quicker than yours and Taehyun’s were spreading.

"Holy shit..." Beomgyu whispered, looking at his hands. At this point, you had nothing much to do or say as you slowly began to change into a silhouette of pixels.

"This must be a nightmare..." You said.

"Yeah, well we'll see about that, because we're turning into game characters, apparently." Taehyun said, the pixels up to his chest by now. Beomgyu loudly gasped, and the both of you looked at him as your chests heaved in fear.

"G-game characters?" He said, then after a couple of seconds of silence. "Jumanji!"

You looked at him in disbelief, and you couldn't stop myself from trying to lunge at him to put him in a choke hold. You could potentially be dying, you could be drugged somehow, anything, and this mother fucker compares this to Jumanji? Before your pixelated hands could even come in contact with Beomgyu's neck, or any other part of his body, he suddenly wasn't there anymore.

"Uh, Taehyun..." You said in a shaky tone to the boy who was seemingly mesmerized by his own pixelated body. He looked up. "Beomgyu's gone."

"Wha-'' He stuttered. "What the fuck happened to Beomgyu?!"

"H-he just disappeared!" You said. "Is it because he said jumanji?" You seriously asked with a tone of misplaced realization. Taehyun looked at you as if he wanted to punch you at that moment, but that was the last thing you saw before he suddenly fully pixelated and then disappeared just like Beomgyu did, right before your eyes. "Holy shit...this isn't a prank. Maybe I'm just dreaming." You now spoke to yourself as tears started to well up in your eyes, and the pixels went up to your neck. "It's just a dream, (Y/N), it's just a dream." You shut your eyes tight, hoping by the time you opened them, you’d wake when the sun is up with Beomgyu and Taehyun safe and sound by your side. "Wake up, (Y/N), wake up."

After a couple of seconds, you finally opened your eyes. But...You weren't where you wanted to be. You were no longer pixelated, which was great, but you also weren't in your room anymore and your best friends weren't by your side. In fact, you were completely alone in an empty space of a building, it looked like. You looked around, your body frozen in fear and confusion. It seemed as if you were in an office building, but there was nothing inside of it. There were hallways stretching out past corners that weren't visible to you from where you stood, and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights filled in the silence. The carpets were dirty and damp, and the walls were covered with yellowed wallpaper.

"Beom...Beomgyu?" You called out softly. "Taehyun?" You didn't know what to expect. There was obviously no one here, wherever here was. The scariest part of all this was that it felt too real. It could've been a lucid dream, yes, but even lucid dreams don't feel this real.

You looked down at your hands, but was startled to see that you were wearing something completely different than your pink pajamas. You were wearing all black, instead, long black sleeves and black pants. The one thing that intrigued you the most was the number zero on the back of your hand. It was like a thick black ink tattoo was plastered right there, and you caressed it to see if it was real. Like you would have imagined, it didn't budge. Even at the age of 19, your mother wouldn't allow you to get a tattoo, so you didn't know where this could've come from, or how it appeared, anyways. You paid no mind to it, focusing your energy on the fact that you were in a creepy, empty place with no sign of Taehyun or Beomgyu.

Instead of just standing out in the open, you decided to finally move. Maybe if you walked around a bit, you’d be able to tell where you were. There were no windows as far as you could see, and it seemed like the buzzing of the fluorescent lights slowly got louder. You shook my head, ignoring the buzzing, and started walking down the corridor. You took many turns and twists, but no matter where you turned, there seemed to be no exit. There were no doors, no stairways, no objects, nothing. Just walls going on for what seemed like miles.

As you continued walking, I felt as if you were going crazy. You must've been walking around in circles by now, but even though the walls stayed the same, and the carpet was still so damp, you could tell that I had to be getting somewhere at least. There just had to be a door somewhere, or a window that you could climb out of. You don't know what happened at the sleepover, but as you walked, you continued to speculate on what happened.

An intruder could've come in the house, and drugged you. They could have dragged you off in different places so that you could suffer. Another reason for this could be that it was of course a dream or a lucid dream. Even thinking of the possibilities, one seemingly impossible one stood out to you. Before Beomgyu disappeared, he said that it might be the game, and brought up jumanji. Of course you thought it was stupid before, but now that you think of it...where you were really resembled the back rooms.

You were unfamiliar with the other levels of this stupid game, but if Beomgyu was right in the slightest, then you knew a way out. But, if he was right, then there would only be danger waiting for you at the other end. You didn't want to think about it, but at this rate, you could be dead soon.

Though, you could just stay here. You could stay here where it was safe and not go any further. You could wait until maybe someone else stuck here could come and help you. You thought about the Backrooms videos that Beomgyu forced you to watch so he could share his excitement. If you could remember correctly, the back rooms stretched thousands of miles. This was no ordinary building, that was obvious, but the sudden realization that you were actually in a game told me that you had to find a way out, and quick.

You feet moved faster, almost on the verge of running. You would have to no-clip out of this place. You ran your hands along the dirty walls, hoping that I could touch a somewhat glitched spot where you would end up somewhere else. As you ran, it felt like the buzzing of the lights only got louder and louder, and it was to a point where you thought they would explode.

"F-fuck..." You said, slowing down and covering your ears. The buzzing was getting to a point where it was unbearable. You cringed as you still heard it even though your hands were clasped tightly over your ears. The sound was making you delirious and the lights suddenly started flickering. "What the fuck is happening?" You spoke to yourself to try and stay grounded. You shut your mouth once you heard voices speak back. You didn't know what they were saying, but you heard them over the sound of the lights. It was as if multiple people were whispering to me in a language that sounded familiar, but you couldn't understand.

You heaved air in and out of your chest as if you couldn't breathe, and you collapsed to your knees, your hands still over your ears. You shut your eyes tight so you wouldn't see the lights flickering, but that didn't help much, as everything was so loud, it was painful. You started to think of Beomgyu and Taehyun, telling yourself that they were safe and that you’d get to see them again, to distract you from the sounds.

You then suddenly heard a loud, distorted scream, and your eyes shot open just as the lights stopped flickering, and it turned silent. There was no buzzing of the lights, either, just complete silence. You jumped once you heard the distorted scream again, but this time it was louder. This was your cue to run, and so you did. You didn't know where you were going, or what you were running from, but whatever it was was faster, as you could hear its screams louder and louder. You didn't dare to look back even though you knew it was in sight of you, now. Though, as you ran, the curiosity began to grow bigger than the fear and adrenaline. You wanted to look back. You wanted to see the entities that were so feared in the game world. And so you did.

Your legs kept moving as you looked back for just a quick peek at what was after you, and you immediately regretted it. Behind you was a large tangle of what looked like human legs and arms that were stretched to great lengths and dyed a grim black. They all moved in a heap as it ran, but there was no face or eyes. The image of it was simply terrifying, and you feared that you would soon become a part of the mess of limbs.

You turned back around before you could see any more horror, but what was facing you was a wall. Before you could stop yourself, you ran straight into the wall. Or...at least you thought you did. You didn't feel any harsh impact at all, and you also didn't hear the distorted screaming any more. You opened your eyes to find out that you were no longer in the same place as you were before.

Instead of the back rooms, you were in a large warehouse looking place. The pipes were visible on the ceiling, and for some reason, there was thin fog in the large space.

Your eyes were wide as you noticed that you no-clipped like you were planning to do, and there seemed to be no more danger. You looked behind yourself to see where you no-clipped from, and there was just the wall. You guessed that the entity that you just saw wasn't able to no-clip. You sighed in relief before the corners of my lips twitched upwards. Although you were nowhere near where you wanted to be, you were in a place where your breath could go back to normal and where the deafening sounds of the fluorescent lights weren't there. You looked at your hands, surprised when the zero on your hand turned into a one.

"That's what this must mean..." You said to myself. The numbers signified what level you were on. You were on level zero and now you’re on level one. You didn't know anything past level zero, so from this point on, everything would be new to you. Although you should be relieved, that simple fact instilled a whole new fear within you. You may have been able to escape that thing by accident, but how long would you be able to go before you could no longer escape?

You gulped, your eyes locked down on your hands. You wondered how many levels there were, and how long you’d have to go through this. You wondered if you were all alone. Beomgyu and Taehyun disappeared, but you didn’t know where they could've ended up. Maybe this was a hallucination.

You looked up, deciding that thinking of this stuff was going to drive you in a deeper hole of despair. You had to find a way to get out of here. The only sound you heard was the dripping of water from the pipes and your own footsteps as you walked through the large space. There were puddles on the concrete floor that splashed a bit when you walked through them, which made you flinch. You wondered where the water was coming from as they dripped through the pipes, and why there was fog in the air.

As you walked further, it seemed like there was no end to this space, yet it was less frightening than the twists and turns of the back rooms. If there was an entity here, then you would most likely see them clearly, but running from it would be a problem.

You suddenly stopped, as you almost tripped over a crate of some sort. The weird thing was, you didn't see a crate in your line of vision before. It was just all empty. You paused for a second, looking at the crate suspiciously. Maybe there could've been an entity inside of it, or maybe it was an entity itself. You licked my lips nervously, tapping against the wood with the tip of your thick, black shoes. It was a medium sized crate, about the height of up to your knee. It didn't seem threatening, but you still didn't know what could be inside of the crate. You contemplated ignoring it and continuing along your merry way, but this was the first inanimate object that you’ve seen since the back rooms.

Without thinking any further, you moved to push off the heavy lid off of the crate. Your curiosity just couldn't handle it anymore. After the lid tumbled to the ground, making a loud echo in the space, you looked into the crate. Instead of anything that was alive, or anything that was scary, there were things that were useful. You widened your eyes at the objects. Inside of an open black bag were cans of some sort that said 'Smiler Exterminator', bottles of almond water, and a small covered knife. You thought back to the game that Beomgyu, Taehyun, and you were playing. Beomgyu said something about smilers, and the game said something about them being hostile. You guessed that was the name of an entity here, but you doubt it was that thing that chased you in the back rooms.

You picked up the knife, slightly let down because it was so small. It wouldn't really do much to protect yourself here. You reached to take off the covering of it, so you could examine the sharpness, but as you pulled it off, what once was a small knife turned into a sword. The sound of metal slid together as the knife jumped up to four times as long as before. It frightened you at first, but after examining it, you were much more joyful of it being larger.

"That's more like it..." You said, then you stuck it back into the bag, zipping the bag up, and hoisting it over your shoulder. You were sure these items would be useful. "Now, where do I go from here...?"

You decided to continue going forward, because that has, so far, led you to a good thing. Yet, it seemed like this fog was never ending. As far as you looked, there was no wall, no door, nothing. Just a damp floor and a low ceiling. The humidity made it seem as if you were breaking out in a cold sweat, and the long sleeves of the clothing that you were in made it feel as if it was all sticking to you. How much longer will you have to travel to get to something, at least?

Your question was answered in a matter of five minutes, as you finally reached the other side of the huge warehouse. You must've walked a mile to get here. You still couldn't see any other walls of the warehouse other than the one you just approached, but that didn't matter, especially since there was a door on this wall.

It was a small door, one that you would have to crouch a little to get inside, but you were hesitant to do so in the first place. You put your ear up to the door so you could be able to hear what was going on at the other side, but you heard absolutely nothing. Could it be another warehouse? You were inwardly hoping and praying it wasn't, but there was even a chance that it could be another doorway to the back rooms.

You sighed, gulping. "It's either stay here forever in fear, or continue on." You said to yourself. You grabbed a hold of the bronze doorknob, holding it tightly in your shaking hands. You took one last deep breath before you turned the knob and cracked the door open. Peeking inside, you were surprised to see what looked like a diner.

Your heart leaped with joy and bewilderment when you saw people everywhere in this diner. They seemed happy, eating and drinking with their friends. Music played at a low volume, and it was like this place came out of a movie.

Could this be some sort of trap? You were frozen in place, not wanting to go in, but also not wanting to stay in the foggy warehouse.

That decision was made for you when you were suddenly yanked inside of the diner by an unknown person, and you heard the door shut behind you. Your eyes were wide as you frantically looked around to see what dragged you until your eyes landed on a harmless looking man.

"Y-you're not supposed to keep the door...open..." He said in a quiet voice, his eyes darting from place to place. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him in confusion and in slight fear. "We keep that door closed. T-the warehouse...the warehouse is kind of dangerous, so...yeah, we keep the door c-closed."

"Where am I? What is this? Are you real?" You questioned him. He looked at you with wide eyes, and pointed towards his chest.

"Me?" He said, then paused, his eyes darting around again. "I am real. Well...I think I am real. And everyone else is real...I think. A-and this is Tom's Diner."

You shook your head, still utterly confused. "No, no, like...is this not some game or something? Who are all of you?"

"Ah! You're talking about...this? Like, as a whole, right?" He asked with big eyes, his hands motioning around so you could get the idea, and you nodded. "Sorry, I've been here for a while, so I kind of...forgot about all the levels and entities and stuff." He chuckled awkwardly. There was a couple of seconds of silence before the boy shook his head as if he was waking up from a daydream. "S-sorry, let me explain, you must be confused. Firstly, would you...like something to eat, o-or some water, or something? We have a lot of stuff here."

You paused for a second, just blinking at nothing before you slowly nodded your head. "Uh, yeah..."

He nodded, gesturing for you to follow him. You followed him to one of the tables, and he told you to wait before he went somewhere in the diner for about a minute, and he came back with a tray of burgers, french fries, and almond water. You stared at the food wide eyed, wondering exactly where this stuff was coming from.

"You're probably very hungry." The man said, sitting down and putting the tray down on the table. "It isn't real meat...by the way. I don't know what it is but it tastes good."

That frightened you a bit. Who knows what creepy entity that could be in this burger. You gulped, my mouth watering at the delicious smell. Entity or not, you were too hungry to care at this point. You bit into the burger, your eyes rolling to the back of my head at the taste. It was heavenly.

"S-should I start explaining, or do you wanna eat first...?" The boy asked.

"You can explain now." You said, mouth stuffed.

"Well...basically, you're in the Trader's Keep." He said. "This is a city surrounded by The Warehouse. The Warehouse has some entities there, but since it's so big, it's rare that you'd come in contact with one."

"A city? You live here?" You asked him, and he nodded.

"I don't know exactly how long I've been here, since time isn't really a thing here. I've heard that time goes slower in the warehouse." He said. "I was probably in the same place as you. I started in the back rooms, and I somehow ended up here. I've been too afraid to go any further since then. I've almost died nearly three times and this is only level one."

"So...you're planning on never leaving?" You asked, and he nodded once again.

"You can do the same, if you don't want to go further." He said. "It's safe here, and there's always enough food."

You thought about it for a bit. To be able to stay in one place where you’d be safe without having to go through whatever the fuck you went through in the back rooms sounded like heaven. But then, you remembered your best friends. Taehyun and Beomgyu were around somewhere, and you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you gave up on finding them.

"I can't." You shook my head. "I came here with others. I just don't know where they are..."

"How...did you get here?" He asked.

"I'm not exactly sure, but...the last thing I was doing when I was at my home was playing a board game called level infinity with my friends." You said. He looked at you with wide eyes as he froze. Then he started looking around as if he was suddenly on edge.

"Uh, we can't be here anymore." He said, suddenly standing up. You looked at him in puzzlement. "I'll explain later. Just come with me. Please."

You stood up, holding my bag over my shoulder even though you were still confused. You followed him out of the diner, and you were met with a long hallway. There were doors lined along the hallway, each one identical except a different number on each one. You followed the boy down the long hallway and up a flight of stairs until you both approached a door that had a golden 55 plastered on it.

Next

—————————————

Taglist:

@bluesoobinnie @sweetrainwrites @satorusimpp

[missgeniality]

Opaline Moon (m)

“The Moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.” - Munia Khan

➺ Banner: @hobiandsprite​ 💕

➺ Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Friends to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11.2k

➺ Summary: You are ingrained to love Jin, right upto the blood that courses through your veins. Confessing, however, is a whole other game. So it’s a good thing you’re bad at keeping your hands to yourself, because happenstance can handle the rest. 

➺ Warnings: talks about dance floor fucking, making out in the bar bathroom, fingering, pussy slapping, passing out drunk, daydreams about thigh riding, reader masturbates, they make out A LOT, neck kissing, a hickey, nipple play, some biting, cum eating (kind of, you’ll see), blowjob, protected sex!, reader and jin are corny, the hurt is real but the sex is real-er

➺ Author’s Note: My lovely, lovely moots - @taegularities​, @kithtaehyung​ and @baepsaetan​, thank you so much for betaing this and hyping it up, your comments made this fic a hundred times better! As I mentioned on the teaser, this fic took a lot out of me, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the angst and will write more whenever the story aligns! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing, and I hope this lovable Jin reaches your heart! (ngl, in usual fashion, I will come back and edit it again, so if you see a spelling mistake, your eyes are lying to you) Do let me know what you think, your asks and comments make my day!

This is the second part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Sweltering heat. Blaring traffic. Little to no sleep. Through all things wrong, one man’s thoughts wrapped around you like a cooling breeze, a shield to protect you from the vicissitudes of reality, to draw you back into all of him. Unfortunately, your reality may never see that day come to light.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin, the man who cooked you up a greasy break-up meal at three in the morning with not a sight of discomfort, putting your needs above all.

Kim Seokjin, whose puns make you roll your eyes heavenward, half awed at how he manages to pull one out of his collection at a moment's notice, and half irked by the untimely laugh it brings out of you.

Kim Seokjin, the man who will never be yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself. 

One could argue that the miscommunication that had caused this present condition was two-way. If you had stopped him, corrected him, let him know the truth… you wouldn’t have to resort to the extreme measures you’re currently entangled in. One would also say, you are trying to redeem your mistake by trying too hard. Surely, everyone and their mothers could see through your ruse. 

This is the fourth time you’re visiting Jin for his BE shoot - a shoot taking place two hours away from the city, disguised under various layers of secrecy to prevent any leakage of the album concept, or Jin in general. Of course, you had been made privy to such exclusive information, because you and Jin were ‘best friends’. 

Best. Friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Best friends. The term you coined for (and forced upon) the bond you had. The bond that was too close to sprouting into something new, something fresh, something that was filled with glimmering allure and dragged you in like quicksand. But also, it reeked of commitment, of shadows, of newness that you hadn’t felt in the longest time, and fear of already being far too deep in without even taking the first step. 

The loud thrum of some internet kid’s new hit pulses through the air of the club as bundles of couples occupy the dance floor, laughing and gyrating to a song that, in your opinion, most definitely does not suit gyrating. But with enough of the weekend happy hours intake combined with hormone-riddled minds, one could very well throw it back to a church choir. 

You weave through the drunken bodies, trying not to spill the precariously held three drinks in your hands, making your way to your inner circle, the only people to blame for dragging you to this slosh-fest.

“Y/N!” 

Somehow Hoseok’s voice can echo across the club, but you didn’t even need his addressal because Jin’s laughter is loud enough to navigate anyone to your table. Seeing you struggle with the glasses (and mostly the crowd, with some of them living their exhibitionist dreams), Hoseok gets up to assist you.

“I swear, if I see one more couple pretending to be dancing as they rub one off of each other’s thighs, the black market will have my eyes.”

“Oh yeah?” Jin’s breathy voice interjects your black-market dreams, still bursting in short laughs from whatever sent him rolling before your arrival. “Why don’t you go join them?”

“And whose thigh is she taking, yours?” Yeji snorts out, one hand holding her nebula blue drink, the other wrapped around Hoseok, urging him to come closer. Jin’s features scrunch into a cringe, and you’re thankful for the dim lighting because the disappointment in your features does not reach them.

“The only action these leather pants are getting is in the damned laundromat,” he points to his shiny trousers, “some jerk dropped his drink on it.”

“You could be the first person to give some chick an orgasm and a yeast infection.” Hoseok giddily adds, his fifth shot clearly making a mess of his brain cells. 

Jin claps and gets up to move away from the group. “Better than a pregnancy!” he yells, before zigzagging through the crowd, possibly to the restroom. He is on his third cocktail, and you’d think cocktails are lighter drinks. But in this bar, their taps just seem to flow with tequila, and it is very evident in the way Jin is currently walking.

His absence hits you harder than you think, but it might be the alcohol talking. Jin has always been the mood-maker of the group, the one who brings everyone together. Of late though, his magnetic persona has been an irritant in your life. Any outing you two take, any chance you have to come clean about the burgeoning crush you have on him, is effectively disrupted by one of his posse. And today, Hoseok and Yeji took that trophy. 

“Earth to Y/N. Has the cocktail finally broken you?”

You flutter your eyes in a manic fashion, to disperse the daydream you were indulging yourself in, and bring your attention back to the couple calling for you. Surprisingly, they have stood up, Yeji emptying the last of her neon drink. 

“What happened?”

“We are going to the club nearby, they have better stuff. And that’s code for ‘they actually add water to the drink and the surround sound doesn’t shatter your ear drum’.’” 

She isn’t wrong. The cocktails and music here are a 19-year-old frat party dream, not something the working class can digest. But you’re tired at this point, and don’t want to be smothered by someone else’s love life when your own is down the dumps.

“You guys carry on! I’ll tell Jin where you are and he’ll meet you there!”

You watch as Hoseok and Yeji lead each other to the exit, hands circling their partner’s waist. They giggle on and on, about nothing and everything, and it only hardens the emptiness you feel inside you. 

Why can’t you gather the balls to spit your feelings out? What could possibly go wrong? Yes, you may lose one of your closest friends, but is this friendship really worth the agony? The bitterness you feel when you see any couple enjoying themselves? The anger you harbor whenever Jin tells you about his dates? The heartache, when he hugs you and tells you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him… as a friend? Is it? Your plastered brain tells you to not make any rash decisions, so you don’t, instead choosing to get up and search for your best friend. 

The corridor leading to the washrooms is dimly lit, throwing a merlot filter over your eyesight, making you squint in search of your friend. You being shitfaced does not help, and while relishing in your floating wooziness, you see Jin come out, and feelings you’ve held at bay for so long slither through your currently porous defenses. 

He has always been good-looking. He himself has said so a dozen times.

But wow.

His hair lays messily atop his beautiful face, unkempt, like a breeze of beauty swept across his mighty looks and displaced every strand, causing disarray, but even the disarray only frames his superior looks and adds to its potent charm. The black, patchy sweater hanging loose off his broad shoulders makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel as a friend. That stupid gut of yours is currently screaming, yelling for all hands on deck, trying to block all the feelings from gushing in and sending you into overdrive.

By the time you can gather yourself to stop from giving in to those dangerous thoughts, Jin has crossed the distance between you, coming close, too close. Chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul, searching for whichever fantasy you chose to lose yourself in. His eyes flit down to notice your rumpled dress that has found its way a couple of inches above its designated spot. His gaze returns to yours, but not without a newfound hardness, an almost steely glaze over the kindness that you usually find in the chocolate pools, accentuated under the garnet lighting. 

“Hey, umm…” You beg for a reprieve, from your thoughts, from your filthy mind, from the way he is eyeing your cleavage, or just for the burning between your legs. You’re about to make some serious mistakes, you can feel it down to your bone.

You’re far too overdressed. 

You knew it when you were in the process of getting dressed, but right now, you feel it much more - you look like a shiny disco ball orbiting amidst the plethora of loose tees, leggings and flannels. Everything screams comfort, because the amount of work they’re putting into this begs for it. 

The strappy lace sundress you wear is extremely out of place, the halter-neck tie behind your neck fastened a little looser than necessary, giving your breasts the exposure they deserve, a nice valley view. Your dress skirt, adorned with pretty frills and dainty flowers, cut across your thigh to frame your petite hips. You are one floppy sun hat away from an extravagant Greek cruise - and in the moment you wish you had one to hide your face in shame. 

You’re just out here, trying to escape the zone. 

“Oh, would you look at the time, it’s tits out Tuesday already?”

Your eyes roll before Sanghoon even finishes his sentence, because you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. On the team of the set design, he is carrying a whole drapery worth of plush, mauve curtains, struggling with the slipping fabric. But apparently not struggling enough to stop him from getting his nose into your business, it seems.

“Literally not even a time you just mentioned. Can’t get one thing right.” You can’t stop yourself from stretching a hand out to feel the curtain fabric, the satiny sheets begging to be touched. Before you can though, Sanghoon moves away, not allowing you to shift the focus of the conversation.

“Don’t steer away from the facts. Your tits.”

“That’s the fact?”

“They’re out.” He bucks up, trying to point with the hand stuffed underneath all the cloth. “That’s the fact.”

“Ugh, can’t a girl dress up once in a while?” The pointed attention makes you uncomfortable, because everything he’s insinuating is true. With every passing staff member, you count a new shade of grey, interspersed with occasional blacks and greens, a stark contrast to your floral overtones. Amidst the thousand footsteps taken in your vicinity, only yours are pointed heels, echoing across the studio with every clack. But you’re a stubborn one, refusing to give in to his totally valid argument. “I just woke up early.”

“Girl.” Like light through frosted glass, he sees through your bullshit, but only partially. “You put an alarm to dress up? I have nightmares of the boss brandishing her whip and telling me to get into position, and even that doesn’t wake me up.” 

“Have you ever considered… not announcing your kinks to everyone and their sisters?”

“Ehh,” he simply shrugs, “nothing is new when you’ve serenaded your boss drunk in a karaoke bar and still managed to keep your job. Wait. Is that highlighter?”

“Stop staring into my tits!” You can’t believe you got caught, but also, who can you blame? After testing this outfit out from the crack of dawn, you decided your cleavage needed some extra help. Three YouTube tutorials and one TikTok lady - who make it look far easier than it is - down, the contouring brought out the swell of your breasts, and against the light fabric of your dress, it does look too good to be true.

Memories of that night in the bar come in billows and waves, of how enamored Jin was with the way your boobs looked at that time. Even under the dingy lighting, in the cramped space, under heavily inebriated scrutiny, you couldn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze every time it passed your chest. 

One thing led to another, and it was a cascade none of you could stop. The heat of attraction between you two does not help your wandering mind, and the fever drowns the knowledge that what you’re feeling is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, crossing some lines that can never be mended back again. With the proximity, his musky scent invades whatever defenses you were trying to patch, piercing through all your inhibitions and you pull him into you, claiming his lips to be yours. 

With his wobbly knees and your wobbly heels, you somehow find your way to the washroom - mostly he does, you give in halfway to wrap your legs around his lean waist, his sturdy legs balancing your weight on them as your back hits the wall, and his lips tear down your walls. 

“You look so fucking sexy today,” between bated breaths and indulgent sighs you confess, “just driving me nuts.” Letting your hands drag along his abdomen, feeling the ups and downs of his abs, you attempt to rid him of the sweater that’s been on your hit list all night. But to your dismay, your endeavor is blocked, when Jin gathers your wrists in his palm, turning you around to bend you over on the countertop, the smooth marble chill hitting your braless chest, perking your nipples under the cold. 

“And you?” Jin bends to give your earlobe a languid lick, progressing very slow, a complete contrast to the movement of his hips as he ruts against your ass, your already short dress bunching up with every move. “You think it’s smart to have your tits torment me like this?” Grabbing a handful from behind, he tests the weight of each fleshy mound, and by now you are certain your perked nubs can pierce his palm. 

His free hand, not yet torturing you, decides to get in on the action and disappears under the counter, swiftly crossing the bunched fabric of your dress, gaining easy access to your pussy. The cold touch of his pads sears against the heat of your core, finding your pleasure button and languidly fiddling with it, with no intention to cross you over the brink in sight. The only pleasure you can indulge in is the reflection of him abusing your nipples, pinching and tugging them down, whispering filthy words into your ear as he takes in your fucked out countenance. 

You feel lacking, weak hands balancing your dizzy self, finding purchase to keep you upright - but you’re both drunk on alcohol and hypnotized by his beauty to do much more than stare at his mirrored counterpart. “For fuck’s sake, kiss me.” 

How he understood your slurred words, you don’t know, but you are glad he did. In a moment you’ve been displaced, the hurried motion sending your neurons into a flurry. Once your back meets the hard marble, and your eyes have the privilege to see his, you pull him in closer, the force enough to hold you against the wall while your legs wrap around his lean waist. 

Originally not a fan of drunken misadventures, that side of yours is strangely mute to the going current onslaught. Well, you don’t have much breath left to say anything, because Jin is efficiently stealing it all, his teeth clashing with yours as you engage in the messiest kiss ever known to mankind (or at least, to you). He changes pace often, dragging his tongue leisurely against your lower lip, conveying tacit words, just to switch it up with a sharp bite and reel you in. 

One corner of your senses can feel his fingers messing around your cunt, and playing with the wetness your thong can barely contain. It makes you shudder, the damage that his fingers can cause solely circling around your hole. 

“Fuck me.” 

In your drunken stupor, you don’t know if the words leave you right, but you get confirmation when his long fingers finally penetrate your cunt, giving your walls something to clench on - although nothing could possibly compare to what you imagine you can get from his dick.

“God, you feel that grip,” he grunts, with two of his fingers in you, and Jin’s smile is the most sinister you’ve ever seen. “I think we should take this home,” is what his lips utter, but his fingers delve deeper, searching for the spot that crumbles you. The base of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you are forced to bite down on this sweater, lest an embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and cues outsiders into your filthy doings. 

“Now,” you half-hiss, half-growl as you grab the cusp of his legs to feel his half-hard erection grow under the pressure of your hand. Your palm sliters up just to go down again, this time without the blockade of his pants, but you are stopped short of success when Jin’s fingers slip out of you to give you a sharp swat. 

“Stubborn, aren’t we? Can’t fucking wait,” he whispers into your ear, and as he envelops your lobe with his cushiony lips, he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

No, no, no. 

Your brain rejects logic, chews and spits it out before any of the rationale seeps into you. You have wanted this for far too long. The need inside you for a meaningful relationship materializes in the form of recklessness, desperately looking for surface-level relief for the moment. A night of sewing sutures to your battle-worn heart, stitches that may come off at the slightest strain - but right now, that will do. 

“Please, Jin,” your tantalizing tone riles up his cock again, eagerly waiting for your next words, “can’t you feel me dripping? Come on, I can take you.”

“Fuck, hear that wetness.” He lets his palm slap against your sopping entrance, not stopping with one. With every slap, droplets of your arousal splash out, the insides of your thighs coated in the sticky sweetness, but your body is an endless reservoir producing plentiful more for Jin to play with. “Have you been sitting with this all this time?”

Two long fingers invade your channel again, leaving you with no response other than a gasp. They scissor incessantly, preparing you for what could be the railing of your lifetime. One curl inside and his fingertips hit the spot he was looking for, making you warp your body to take the pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue seems to mimic the actions, looping around your earlobe as he sucks it inside, both ends of your body engulfed in all the attention he could provide. 

Your cunt is weeping against the assault of this man’s hands, tears of your cum flowing down your legs with every pump of his arm. You are getting there, the sweet swell of release inching closer and closer.

But something doesn’t feel right.

The tightness in your belly, that is to a point caused by Jin, is harboring other sensations that are not entirely pleasant. Maybe you’re anxious about the happenings. Maybe you haven’t had a good orgasm in a while and have just forgotten how this thing works.

Or maybe, the bar should have the water tap actually give out water.

Either your eyes close, or your brain does, but suddenly all you can see is darkness.

 Again, you are just trying to escape the zone.

“Step under those studio lights,” pointing at the too-bright stage lights being set up at the moment, Sanghoon continues, breaking your daydream, “I bet you could signal to aliens with the booby-reflection. Call them to Netflix and chill.”

“In about five seconds, my heel will be puncturing your eye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” 

Sanghoon’s drivel was cut short, and so were your murder plans, with his entry. “Oh look, he’s on set. Gotta go!” 

It’s like the lights, earlier threatening to burn away your skin, dim down in reverence of the glow of his face. The twinkle of his eyes when they meet yours. The shine of his smile when he throws you one. The vibrance of his tone when he calls out your name. Everything he does now threatens to burn you whole and it’s a wonder you’re not scalding, but the singe hurts you deep inside.

“Y/N! How do I look?” It’s a bathrobe. Like satin, or silk. Fucking hell, your brain could explode with the adjectives coming up, a whole chunk of them very much inappropriate to utter out in the current scene. Your arms want to rise, engulf him into you, and you have to physically halt the muscles from doing anything stupid. Brain, quick! Say something snarky and spicy, as best friends do!

“What’s the theme, unicorn puke?” The safest way to deflect is to attack. So you do just that. “You look like you dressed out of Hannah Montana’s closet. Which if it's true, I really need to see it. There’s a top that I’ve been eyeing for decades!”

“Don’t say decades.” Jin’s eyes crinkle in humor. “Makes me feel so old. Your dress is pretty cool too!” 

Cool.

You find out how difficult life can be when you count every single minute of yours. So far, you have counted 4,310 minutes. That is two days, twenty-three hours, and fifty minutes. Ten more minutes and it will be three whole days since you and Jin spoke. 

Yet again, you can’t blame him. When you came to the next day, you were in your bed, clad in the same shimmering silver bodycon that you had donned last night. The same one that had been privy to the colorful deeds you had committed in what was a dreary, colorless setting. 

One ibuProfen and ginger ale, downed with some severe recollections of the previous night, and you had been ready to throw it all up again. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

Words couldn’t describe what you were going through, and numbers weren’t invented to count the endless thoughts racing in your brain. You don’t know what is more upsetting. The fact that you actually had a chance to open your heart and you totally let your pussy think instead? Or that he was the one coherent enough to stop you from getting too far, and you let your desperation get the best of you? Everything about that night was wrong. And all the wrongs lie on your side. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

In the moment, it was physical, he had to have meant that. But there was a tremor in his voice, you can remember clear as day, a slightly shaken side of him had emerged through the intoxication, and the words he had breathed were not shallow. There was a gravity to them, that you’d stupidly ignored in the heat of the moment.

And now, here you are. Counting up till the last minute, after which you can effectively call the friendship ruined. Stirring your tea mindlessly, you try to focus on the show on TV, the variety show comedy not striking the usual funny bones that they could 4,311 minutes ago. 

The programmed ding of your phone bursts your thought bubble, a sound you have missed the past 72 hours. The ring you dedicated to Jin, that always had you running to receive because anything he sends brightens your day. But unlike those happier times, this ring has your gut fall into a pit of despair, struggling to choose between dispersing the suspense or remaining blissfully unaware of the damage you caused.

Jin: Free tmrw? We could grab coffee Jin: And talk

Talk. How? You barely remember what went down, save for fleeting moments that you recollected with great difficulty. Your fingers type back, trying to mimic the nonchalance in his text, that is very much absent in your actual demeanor.

Y/N: Sure. Paik’s at 1? Jin: Yup. See ya

Three texts, zero laughs. Of course, you’re not expecting him to land his jokes in this situation, even someone as talented as he can’t flip this tension. You’re just going to have to wait for tomorrow, when he decides whether you have a place in his life or not. 

The painstakingly worn outfit, accessorizing the whole look, the straps of your heels digging into your toes, the specks of makeup dust lying stale on your collar bones, the shine faints at that word. Cool. A perfectly normal phrase for a normal friendship. You are left maimed, while he absent-mindedly tends to the rope of his robe, blissfully unaware of the cyclonic emotions churning inside you. All you can possibly do is gulp it down. 

He runs his hands through his hair, beautiful locks coming out of place, and from one corner of the set, a groan of anguish emerges. 

“Oppa! Don’t play with your hair and face.” A masked lady runs forward waving combs that look like artillery, “We just got done setting it!”

Some finger guns, a happy apology, and some silly jokes later, all the stylists merrily round up to undo his doing, and Jin signals to you to catch up later. And as he walks away, the strings tugging at your heart reappear, as they do every time you come to meet him.

You have a masochistic streak in you, putting yourself through this every day, when he had made it clear, that you two never stood a chance. 

As if things aren’t already difficult, he looks like a dream. 

Soft, snowy skin gleaming like it has personal lighting wherever it goes, you get flashes of the rarely witnessed sweat on his skin, from the ferocity of last night. He’s blowing away the foam of his cappuccino, and tiny bubbles float into the air before falling flat on the table, like an animated shine that follows him along. God has His favorites, and God makes sure all the lighting in the world is perfect for these favorites. 

In no hurry, you wait at the counter to get your latte. After receiving it though, you can’t linger any longer and drag yourself to the table of doom.

“Hey.”

If the rasp in your voice is evident, he doesn’t show any recognition on his face. But you’ve learned to never trust an acting major. 

“Hi. How are you doing?”

Inadvertently, a snicker escapes your lips. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” you joke, trying to disperse the heavy air, filled with unspoken words. “If so, at least know that I’m very expensive.”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh does not greet you. Dead silence does. The half-smirk he painfully gives you is heavy, and the furrowed brows haven’t an inkling of joy. It shoots daggers in your heart, to know that you are the reason for this jolly man’s despondency. 

“Listen, I don’t think we should skirt around the issue too much. It happened, these things happen. You think Hoseok and Yeji didn’t have sex before making it official?”

His matter-of-fact nature isn’t new to you. Jin has always been a very practical man. Regardless of his inane sense of humor, his logical point of view has always been flawless. 

But right now, at this very moment, logic isn’t what you are looking for. You are looking for answers, but as far withdrawn from logic as possible, to take the edge off of the tension-laden air that surrounds your table.

“Yeah, but even… unofficially… we aren’t a thing, right?” 

Your abrupt question takes Jin unaware, almond eyes widening, like a toddler caught in an act. 

“No, no! Of course not! I would never!” 

His confession slips out with an ease that hurts you, digs deep to carve out the part of you that dreamt of anything more. Your eyes fall to your knees to avoid his perceptive gaze, the sting clear as the sky on a summer day. 

You force a smile and continue. “Then there’s no issue. Anyway,” you gulp your coffee down, burning your throat, but it's a distraction from the burning inside, “I need to get to work. Anything else?”

He’s still searching you, for what, you can’t possibly fathom. From the looks of it, he should be happy with this homeostasis; he doesn’t even know what this means for you. To still stay suspended in limbo, not being able to move up or down, to continue having thorns digging into your beating soul as you watch him like nothing bothers your already frail feelings. Scene by scene, you can visualize the future, him distancing himself from you as he finds the one he calls his, with you left in the shadows. Your knees tremble in fear of the impending future.

Seeing you in a tizzy, he calls out, the voice too loud for the cafe and your mind’s prison cage. 

“We’re still best friends, right?” If you knew better, you’d say his expression is that of sadness, of regret. But your judgment is clouded with your own bothers, and you interpret it as a look of pity. Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home. 

“Yeah! Always.” You give it as much enthusiasm as you can muster. 

Best friends.

Ropes wind around your heart, tugging and causing the deep ache that sets in as you walk back into your dreary building. Each string pulls you into a different dimension where you could move on, where you could be okay with the setting you had just agreed to. Where you would keep up your end of the promise and truly remain friends with him.

But no matter how strong the tug, your heart never yields, never lets go of the castle of dreams you built, staying steadfast in its own misery, choosing to hope, choosing to live the life of unrequited love.

“And that’s a wrap! Good job everyone!”

Applause and hurrays echo across the set to bring you back to the present. The shoot has officially concluded, which means it's time for your most favorite and least favorite part of the day - Jin and you doing best friend things, like grabbing lunch, gossiping about obnoxious coworkers, threatening to disembowel each other (in Mortal Kombat, of course) and other friendly activities. 

Ever so respectful, Jin takes his time thanking every member of the set, regardless of whether they moved a cushion or held the reflector screen for hours. All the women gush over his beauty, reminding him of how, even amidst the glowing ornaments, his face was the brightest. His responses vary, from quiet little giggles, to complimenting the crew for making it happen, to straight up owning his charisma like a boss. That’s your man. 

Well, not quite. Not one bit.

After exhausting the handshakes and hugs to be received, Jin walks to you, hands pushing his robe back to give it a cape like effect. You’re just glad that the man’s child persona still stays with him, no matter the situation.  He guides you to his green room, cracking his bones on the way, (very sexily, might you add).

“Holding a pose for that long gives me cramps! You’d think dancing breaks my back, and you’d be wrong.”

You’re desperately avoiding looking at his fingers, and keep your eyes below them - shoot! His ceaseless stretching gives you a glimpse under his shirt - it is dragging your memories back to the last time you saw them, and you’d rather not. It is hurting you in more ways than one. 

Eye contact is your safest bet. Looking up, you give him a lopsided grin. “Your grandfatherly days are approaching, Jinnie.” 

“Hey!” 

The rest of the conversation was less speaking, more yelling and chasing after each other to the green room, Jin taking mock-offence at your jab at his age, and his fingers reaching out to flick your forehead in retort. In your noisy, messy fashion, you both finally enter the room, dim gold light bulbs and shiny mirrors meeting your huffing self. 

One hand on your knee, you hold on to Jin’s arm with your other, gasping for breath. 

“Your grandmotherly days are already here, Y/N,” he snorts, and earns a kick on the shin, but that doesn’t stop him from bursting into snickers.

“Wow, why does one man need 4 mirrors?” You gape at his current green room, mouth wide open. It looks better than your entire apartment, with the counter carrying top-of-the-line makeup products. Only the best for this man. “So you can admire yourself from 4 different angles?”

Jin has disappeared into one of the inner rooms, but you can hear him snort at your comment. “Come on, I’m not that conceited. When the whole crew shoots together, the extra mirrors help.” The last part of that sentence is muffled, and that cues you into an important fact. 

Jin is currently changing into something more comfortable.

A process that includes him getting naked.

Well maybe he doesn’t get fully naked, top on, top off, bottom on, bottom of-

Still. You’re sweating like a whore in church. 

And things only get tougher when he finally comes out. 

The ocean blue sweater he dons is tucked in. Who tucks in sweaters? Kim Seokjin. Why does he tuck sweaters? Oh, because he’s got an amazing waistline that he should most definitely show off, and the heat between your thighs becoming increasingly potent is a testament to that. You pretend to adjust your heels, giving the right expressions to show you’re in pain, but in actuality you are bringing your legs closer to get you some relief, just any relief. 

Ripped jeans too. You get a peek of the thighs you were denied access to the night of the fuckening. Ridged and beautiful, not a speck in sight to mar his perfection. You are glad the facial expressions for pain and pleasure are not far apart, because your thighs, albeit very lacking, are helping the imagery in your head. Just Jin, seated on one of these leather chairs, and you straddling his thigh, clit aching against the strands of the rips in his denim, the fabric soaking up the wetness, with every push forwa-

“Now that you mention it, I do look dashing.”

And there goes that dream. 

You pinch his cheeks in adoration, the vulgarity of your thoughts getting whitewashed by his silliness and blooming heart-shaped flowers in their stance. You feel your own pinch in you, wondering if this scene would be the same had you blurted your feelings out that day at the cafe.

It's times like these when you remind yourself why you choose to quieten that side. This dynamic cannot reincarnate in any other form. Any imbalance to this equilibrium could cause a serious case of best-friends-turn-awkward-acquaintances, and you don’t know if that’ll hurt you more than you currently do. You don’t plan on finding out.

But on God, he tests that resolution every single day.

Jin doesn’t even hint that he knows of the turmoil blasting behind your eyes. He nonchalantly fixes his hair, gives you a one-over as you are mentally undressing him, nonchalantly as well. Then he moves to grab his cologne, and two spurts disintegrates all the whitewashing and takes you back into the obscenities you were unfolding. 

“So I’ll just go over the shoot photos, and then we can leave! You’re cool waiting here?”

“Hmmn, yeah!” You don’t let your mouth run any longer, fearing what might slip out. 

He gives you a wide, innocent smile. “Great! See you in a bit.” Poor guy. If only he knew how debase plans you were conjuring just from the aroma of his cologne. 

It is musky, like cedar or pine, perfectly suiting him. It is the same scent you remember inhaling, face stuffed in his sweater when he was fingering you to the tenth circle of hell. As he walks away, the fragrance diminishes, save for the slightest hint of lingering. You search for the source, and find the culprit strewn across the sofa.

The outfit Jin wore for the shoot held remnants of the perfume, and when you bring the shirt close and take a long, deep whiff, you transport yourself to the land of your dreams. You relish the fever smell of his cologne, mixed with his own natural scent, deciding that this is what you wish to smell like every waking morning.

Your longing for him has crossed way beyond physical boundaries. You longed for his love, longed for his attention. Longed to be the one that brings the light to his face. From morning rays to the darkness of the night, you wanted to experience it all by his side. To be his lone star, shining bright beside the moon. 

Your hands are moving without your control, disrobing you of your thirst trap of a dress and putting on Jin’s shirt instead. One look at the mirror and you let out a silent groan - it fits you just right. Just enough to cover your ass cheeks, loose enough to let the air conditioning hit your heated pussy. While well-fitting shirts have never been the cornerstone of a successful relationship, your delusional mind takes whatever wins it gets.

Adding layers to your pipe dream, you don the robe that gave you a tough time throughout the shoot. When you press the tails of the robe to your cheek, the softness of the material is soothing. Soft, like Jin’s eyes, like his hugs, like his smile. Like him.

Leaning against the counter, you steady yourself, mind split in titillation. Your fingers find their own path, drawing circles on your breasts over his shirt, imagining Jin’s long fingers in place. While teasing your nipple to pointed peaks, you slip your other hand under your panties, trying very hard to mimic his digits, twiddling your clit between your fingers. Alas, the effect isn’t achievable, because Jin seems to know how to play you better than yourself. 

The scent is getting stronger, without any provoking, and it is doing wonders for your immersion. You let out a loud moan when your fingers press inside, and you’re just glad no one can witness this.

“Y-Y/N?”

Fuck.

You are pulled away from your dreamland that was so impenetrable that you didn’t hear Jin step into the room. All the blood gushing to your nether regions has made a U-turn to flood your brain to think of a plausible explanation for this position. Instead it makes you giddy, and when you try to stand you wobble in your heels, to be rescued by what you think is a very scandalized Jin. 

Time stands still when your eyes meet, and what you see are blown out pupils trembling, many questions fluttering between you two. Jin crosses a tenth of the distance between you, lips flutter as they try to make a decision - do they want to part and give way to the voice of question? The voice of reason? The voice that will break this hush, burst this bubble where he has the one chance to give in to his longing?

You bring your lips closer, and cause immense disquiet in his dome, the way of his heart gathering speed against rationale. Your eyes dance between matching his gaze and finding his lips, every fraction of an inch you cross sending tremors through you. You can feel the shockwaves traverse through your body, making a pitstop at your lips, tingling them awake. They move downwards, passing your heart, beating it wildly against its cage, and then to the pit of your stomach to tighten in anticipation; finally reaching the tip of your toes, where you stand right now, a nanoscopic distance between you. Each one of you is afraid to cross the bridge, unaware of the other’s desires. 

Finally, Jin acqueises and meets you on your side. 

Atomic explosions ring through your head, clearing out every single thought that is not about Jin’s lips on yours. The ropes that held your heart from beating to the tune of your want, they’ve loosened their knots to give you the leeway to love freely. As your lips exchange positions, his teeth lightly drag across your plush petal, and it brings back the most important part of that night that you couldn’t recollect - the one where his lips sang wordless songs of adoration against yours. Blind as a bat, you were.

You dig your fingers into his hair, not minding your residual arousal coating his locks, and you feel his hands doing the same to you. With your eyes closed, you feel a rough edge to his cushiony soft lips, but Jin fixes that mistake - one stray strand of hair trapped in the middle of your indulgence - he pulls it away to give you all of the kiss. The hand tucked in your tresses pushes in, silently demanding more access, and you’re nothing but ready to give it.  

His tongue sneaks in to play a game with yours - when you seek it, it goes into hiding, finding perfect pleasure in soft, sweet kisses, but when you stay, it comes back in, awakening your tongue to deepen again. Everything he is doing is too much and not enough in one go, and you whine into his mouth in desperation, seeking some well-earned relief after months of holding back.

Amidst the flurry of your lips, your back hits the vanity countertop, and Jin pushes away everything on top to make space for you, not caring what expensive item flies down the counter to accommodate your ass.

As if you’ve made up for the months of holding back, the softness of the kisses erodes, teeth coming into play more and more, reminiscent of the night that went by in a blur. He swallows every mewl you give in return, blissed out beyond repair, your neediness making his cock strain against the denim. 

His hand snakes down, spreading his fingers to get a hold of your back to push you towards him, covering any gap that dared to intervene. Now unworried about the shoot, your hands have effectively ruined his perfectly placed locks and messed them up to resemble the craze he let you spin in.

Before he can glide his tongue back in, you break the kiss, lest you lose yourself in it to the point where you forget to breathe. With attached foreheads, you take deep drags of air, letting the oxygen flow to your brain before you make some ill-advised, unclarified decisions.

“I- I was jus-”

“Shhh. Wait,” he breathes out, wanting to take a second and fully savor the moment. You nod in return, making his head move along with yours.

After sufficient air fills his lungs, Jin starts. “Y/N, we should stop.”

Last time this had happened, you had tried to force your way through his barrier, without giving his feelings a second of consideration. So this time, you don’t repeat your mistakes. “Tell me why.”

“Because, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m way deeper in this than you think.”

“Jin, I-”

“Let me finish.” He stops you before you can explain how much you reflect his emotions, possibly more. He doesn’t seem to want to listen now. “Let me finish, or else I’ll chicken out, for the millionth time.”

You’re dumbfounded. Millionth time? When was the first? Acting majors, by God. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

No, now you are dumbfounded. Your hands, holding his precious locks, drop down in shock, at sheer disbelief that all this time, he has been ready and waiting to return you the favor. Jin though, misinterprets it as a look of disdain. 

“I-I know I do, and I’m sorry that I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. You can hate me all you want, but this is the truth.”

“And yes,” he continues, refusing to halt for even half a second, afraid that the courage he mustered to confess would dissipate the moment he does, “I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what went down here --” flicking his wrist to mention your (his) outfit, “--but I’m looking, okay? And I’m hard as fuck. But that’s not all there is to it.”

“I need all of you.” He takes an audible gulp, trying to stymy his emotions from overpowering him. “I want to take you out, I want to hold you hand, I want to bring you to all the places I love. I want to introduce you to people, not as my best friend, but so much more than that. It hurts me,” bringing his hand to his chest, he emphasizes the point of pain by clutching over his heart, “hurts to call you that because I’m lying through my fucking teeth.”

You break eye contact, because there are tears smarting your eyes at his heartfelt revelation. You can’t believe the idiot that you have been all this while. The man of your dreams stands in front of you, baring his soul, and you can’t even do him the decency of telling him what you felt yourself before jumping his bones.

And you love him, too. Maybe you haven’t said so, even to yourself, but you’ve known all this while.

You love him.

“If you are just looking for a fuck, or want any sort of a ‘benefits’ situation, we should stop. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”

“Jin, my God,” you half-sigh, half-laugh, feeling a burden lift off of you after months of pining.

“You don’t have to pacify me, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Even in this moment, he is looking out for you. His lips are curved upward to show you that he’s okay, but his pupils are shaky and restless, not in sync with his smile. You hope your next words can fix that for him.

“Pacify you? Hate you?” You shoot him an incredulous look, one you will explain to him very soon. “You are a much better person than I am, Jinnie. For months now, I’ve loved you, but even at this point, I didn’t stop to tell you.” The guilt of letting your hormones cloud your judgement for the second time lays heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry for not making this clear earlier, but let me now. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I have for way too long. I want you, I need you. You have me, in every possible way.”

It feels unparalleled to get that off your chest. The leaden weight of your emotions immediately disappears - or the fact that it's shared, makes it much, much lighter. But then you look at Jin, and he still seems to have not put two and two together. You patiently wait for him to process all the information. 

When he finally recoups, he yells, “What?!”

You let out a loud guffaw, the first one with no inhibitions in the longest time. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything that day at the cafe?!” 

“You said you’d never date me, asshole!” You punch his chest softly, before slipping your hands behind him and pulling him closer. “I might not look like it, but I have some dignity.”

“I said that?” Jin brings one hand to pinch his nose in annoyance. “What an idiot. I think I was just inverting everything to make sure I don’t accidentally slip up.”

You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too. But the smile on your face is genuine, and that is all that matters. “I was blind too, so don’t beat yourself up about it.” 

Flitting your eyes down to find the contour of his cock against his jeans, you ask him innocently, “How about we make up for lost time?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” And with that, your lips are engulfed again.

When you have all your guards down, the kiss tastes sweeter than before. Mere moments ago, while thoroughly enjoying the kiss, a sense of reticence had clouded your pleasure, holding you back from luxuriating in the headiness. A series of what-ifs had plagued your subconscious without your realization, but with all that cleared, you wholly submit to the kiss, emptying your mind until nothing but his name remains.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jin gasps out, when you bite into his pillowy lower lip, “I thought you looked the prettiest in the dress earlier but,” after pulling away, he drinks your current attire in, “you look the most beautiful in this.”

You snicker. “Even more than World Wide Handsome?”

His eyes bore into yours, no hint of the joking lilt he always carries in them. 

“So much more.”

Your hands find their place amidst his shaggy hair again, and you lodge his face into your neck - a command Jin acquiesces to with great pleasure. After a long, wet lick to your collarbone, he lays feather-soft kisses on the trail he left, starting from your shoulder and working inward, until he brushes against the back of your ear. You grasp at his sweater, because his lips feel so good. Your breaths are short, sucking in every time he allows your skin the luxury of a soft peck.  Once he lays a kiss on your forehead, he brings his gaze down to one of the main reasons that causes his cock to stir.

“Fuck, look at your nipples under my shirt.”

Gazing down, you can see the two pointed peaks that caught Jin’s eyes. 

“That tends to happen when I’m thinking of you.” 

He twists a nipple over the shirt, hardening it further, and you throw your head back in the satisfying pain. “Yeah, I remember.”

You are unraveling every second, the ache swishing amongst the bliss his fingers are bringing in you. He’s switched over to drawing circles around your nipple, until he snaps and tugs your shirt up, finally revealing the palmfulls of flesh awaiting his hands. 

“Ah that night, I didn’t get to do this. Take this off.” But then, he makes you put on his robe again. You throw him a questioning look, to which he responds with a sheepish smile, “Just so, you know… you don’t feel cold… or something.”

“Just say you like me in your clothes and move on.”

“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”

“God, gladly.”

Unexpectedly, he bites the side of your boob - not hard at all, but feeling his teeth against your skin sends your head reeling backward. Your involuntary response is to wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your core against him. His teeth continue to nip you lightly across the expanse of your breasts, the trail of saliva he leaves cooling parts of your flushed body. Finally, finally, he latches onto your left nipple and gives it a long, pleasurable suck.

“Ahh, Jin - you’re too - God damn it - you’re too good at this.” 

Without stopping the onslaught he is unleashing on your breasts, his fingers begin to move - but soon, they stop, hesitation rippling off of their tips. His pace falters, and his mind is fighting on the next course of action.

“Can I-”

“Finish what you started that night?” you complete for him, already prepared with your answer. “Yes, please.”

All forms of uncertainty shoot out of his touch, and he confidently trudges forward. Playing with the band of your panties, he gives you a well-intended chuckle, murmuring, “As far as I remember, I was so good you passed out.”

“Boy,” You groan, intended in jest, but his teeth slide against your jaw and it mostly comes out more wanton than jovial, “let me see you have tequila for dinner and remember much the next day.”

“Fair fair,” he gives in, shifting to buss the valley of your cleavage, feeling your heart thud against your ribs holding it in place. “Well today,” he starts without moving his face, his nimble fingers moving past the barrier of your underwear, pressing two fingertips directly on your clit, and hissing like it's him at the receiving end, “I’ll give you enough to remember.”

You pull his sweater off and chuck it away, not wanting to be reminded of any blockades that kept you apart, and your hands roam the expanse of his back remembering the touch of his skin from the night at the bar. His body isn’t new to you, but the circumstances make it feel different. 

Finally, his fingers find their way inside you. 

Yes, this. This was what was missing from your drunken tryst. With your heads in place, your ardor intensifies, and you move his lips back to yours needing to release your animalistic desire into his mouth. Pleasure surges through both of you as you threaten to swallow him whole.

You can feel him being more present, and considering the merciless finger-fucking you had earned that night, this is taking it to a whole other degree. 

The night at the bar, his fingers did their best to ravish you, but now, Jin is paying attention, close attention to the way you respond. Every muscle movement is recorded in him as you struggle to accommodate three of his lengthy digits. Leaning close, he gives your peaked nipple the lightest feather lick - the suddenness sends shockwaves through you as he continues to tweeze the other, talented pianist hands performing his musical piece on both ends of you.

His fingers pump into you with determination, finding new depths to explore that he missed out on, and with a curl of his pointer, you blank out, screaming in the orgasm that is washing over you. Every skincell of your body feels the quiver of lust spreading, your cunt squeezing for an eternity, milking the orgasm out to the extent that you can. 

When you look down, your metaphorical orgasmic flood manifestes as a deluge of your arousal leaking on the table. And when you look back up, you can see the salacious ideas making their rounds in Jin’s head as he looks at the inundation you released. 

Hurried hands still convulsing from the intensity of your orgasm, you undo his belt, followed by his jeans and finally - getting the pleasure you were heartlessly denied of - his cock is out, in all its glory, twitching as the cool air hits its naked skin. Jin’s plans don’t go hand in hand with yours though.

“Are we just - holy fucking shit - just, umm, leave that to waste?” he lustfully looks down to your leaking core, and someway, through your hold on his dick, he tries to steer you into his plans.

“I don’t know about that,” you cheekily reply. You have the right idea to satisfy both of you, and get down to the task.

With the flat of your palm, you swipe across the droplets of cum you released, gathering them to transfer them onto his thick length. Jin thrusts into your hand, the wetness jolting him into attention, and he places an arm on your shoulder to steady himself. 

“You’re going to taste yourself?” he asks as you continue your vacillating motion, twisting at the base of his head with the wetness you graciously provided yourself. You give him a nonchalant look, something he is trying to do to you as well. 

“Who said I’m gonna suck you off?”

His look changes, and the one you get in return is cocky, arrogant, downright rude if you were honest. You expected him to play on with your banter, but one raised eyebrow and the lazy smirk he gives, to what he probably thinks is a joke - Zeus could land on earth and not be able to stop you from gobbling his meat. 

Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling.  You switch positions, having him balance himself against the counter, all while you refuse to leave his cock out. His giggle of endearment has you pouting, but it swells your heart and makes you want to give more, more of anything and everything. With your renewed vigor, you push yourself in until his pubes tickle your nose, and his tip tickles your throat. 

“Your-”, “I-”, “uhh-” 

Every new sentence Jin starts crumbles to your actions. You furrow your brows both in concentration on your blowing skills and trying to decode what he is trying to say. 

Jin takes a large gulp, adamant on making this one a coherent sentence. “You know, I used to imagine this, and in my dreams I used to be very sexy and suave, talking my way throug-oof-” You run your tongue over the tip of his leaking dick, emphasizing the point he is coming to, “Now I can’t even complete sentences here.”

“You being you is super sexy in itself.” And you curve your tongue to match the arch of his cock, letting the incoming saliva pool on it before letting it run down his shaft, dripping down from his balls. Strings of his precum connect to your lips, and you swipe your tongue through them, relishing the salty goodness before going back in for more. 

“Y/N, shit, did you just moan?”

How couldn’t you? The fact that he is horny for you, so much so that rivulets of precum don’t stop drizzling down your throat, has you preening. You hum your assent in response, not willing to let go even for a moment, but Jin pulls you off before you can get a chokehold on the base of his cock again. 

“Never had a woman moan while sucking me off. It’s sexy as fuck,” Jin breathes into your lips as he dives in for a kiss.

Your chest is heaving, catching the breaths you lost when you were down. “Then why’d you stop me?”

“Are you kidding me? I was about to lose it right there.”

“Jinnie, come on,” you break the fragmentary kiss you were sharing, looking into his glassy eyes, “let me feel you come on my tongue.” To emphasize your conviction, you lick his lips, persuading him of the sinful deeds your tongue is capable of doing if he’d just let you.

“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.” You erupt into a loud laugh, soon followed by Jin as well. It is so him to joke about this. 

“And babe,” all hints of embarrassment vanishing from his tone, “I’m only going to come inside you.”

“Fuck, fuck, yes. You got a condom on you?”

“Yeah, let me grab my wallet.” The instant he moves away, you feel naked, shivering from the comfort stolen away from you. But then you hear Jin grumble, “I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.” And the absurdity of it all puts you at ease again.

“Ew, stop, even you can’t make that sexy. My lady boner is dying.”

He envelops you again, and you can feel the laughter echoing in his lungs before making it out to your ears. He brings your attention to the familiar rustle of foil wrapper. “Thankfully, we got chocolate.”

“Mmmh, gotta love chocolate.”

You take the condom out of his hands, and roll it onto his stiff length, flattered that he’s holding his erection for so long. 

“Okay, stick it in me!” And you smack your ass in readiness, and a very flabbergasted Jin breaks out chortling.

“Y/N, stop being my best friend for like, five minutes!” His brows are furrowed in pretense exasperation, but you can see his lips holding back a genuine smile through the grimace, just happy that your dynamics haven’t changed the slightest, even though everything else has shifted.

“Okay okay,” you try and suppress your own laughter, before continuing, “how do you want me, baby?”

“Bend over on the vanity. And keep your eyes on the mirror.” And as you move into position, his palms grab your ass and squeeze it hard, feeling your glutes push back against his grip, and he pushes you forward till you're on the tips of your toes. You watch him through the mirror, watch him admire the way your ass curves over the table edge, how your toes struggle to keep you up, and how the dimples of your back are deepened by the arch, peeking under the bunched up robe tails, just waiting for him.

“Jin.” Your hushed whisper puts him in action.

Pushing the head in is anguish and relief at the same time. His bulbous head stretches your entrance; even with your preparation, you feel it sting. The searing gets better and better with every inch slipping in, and when he finally lodges inside, you let out a heavy breath, still panting and keeping yourself from screaming bloody murder in pleasure. Jin bends forward to paint the back of your neck, sucking the flesh till the circular bruise comes to surface. 

“Can you- can you-fuck, no, wait-” Your brain is at war with itself, battling between adjusting to his girth and having him pump you into adjustment. 

You can feel Jin’s snicker from behind you, and he finally makes the decision for you. “I’ll wait, I have things to do here,” he says before playing around the patch of skin, spreading from the base of your hair to the expanse of your back, his teasing licks relaxing your walls and accommodating his girth. The pain is almost gone, expect for the lingering ache that only helps you.

“You can move now, babe.”

“Okay, okay.” Your words snap him out of the painter’s dream he was in, and he twitches inside you. Something about the ease at which you both have adopted nicknames for each other softens his heart and hardens his cock. 

Pulling out till only the head rests inside, Jin himself struggles against the third degree grip your pussy has on him. As he is thrusting inside again, your walls tense up, making it harder and harder for him to hold back. 

“Y/N, sweetie, relax. I got you.”

“Jin, I’m-” You have tears running down your eyes, the pleasure and unsurmountable happiness rolling out in fat hot drops. “Fuck me harder. I won’t last.”

“Shit. Okay, hold on then.”

To what? Is what you’re going to ask before Jin unleashes his carnality onto you. Your breasts, dripping in sweat and saliva, are plastered to the countertop, which in itself is jiggling to the beat of Jin’s thrusts. His dick is curving inside to hit you repeatedly, and you have to gather the satin fabric to wipe your eyes to keep your gaze fixed on him. 

He looks majestic. Forehead embellished with beads of sweat, his hair coiffed up, lips sanguine red after your vicious kisses - you swipe your tongue along your own lips to find them battered in response. His honey chest is heaving with every push, and a particular one hits you just right. 

You let out a guttural groan, and Jin takes note of it immediately. 

“Up,” he commands, and loops an arm under your belly to you pull you up and closer and now every thrust hits deeper into that spot he has found in you, your back connected to his chest as the two of you move in tandem; this is the most together you’ve ever felt with anyone. This moment is to be etched in your memories forever.

You scream into your fist to muffle the sounds, the edge of the table digging into your hip bone as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink. One swipe to the clit is all you have left to bring you to your release. 

And from some telepathic force, or from the clutch your pussy has on him, Jin beats you to it. His fingers come down and carefully find your swollen nub, pinching it between his fingers. If he thought you’d shown him your hardest clench, he was wrong, because right now your dam has broken, and the iron-clad grip you give his cock sends him reeling, too.

You are gushing on his dick, the rubber dripping with your wetness. Jin too releases into the condom in stuttered gasps, his thrusts becoming shorter and shallower as he comes down from his high. 

Petal-like kisses fall on your back as the two of you regain your breaths. The mirror that served you two well is covered in a fog of hot breath and perspiration, blearing your vision of yourself, but somehow, it sparkles with Jin’s reflection. His nobility-esque visuals use the haze as a valance for his appearance, framing them to make him look like you’re among the clouds. And in some way, you actually are.

“Ah, let me go.” You jiggle your shoulders back to make the man above you move. “Fuck, can you check if my spine is in place? I think you dislodged it.”

“Shut up and come hug me, I’ll squeeze it back in place.”

Now this is something you could get used to.

As he ties and throws away the used condom, you flip over to face him and fall back into his embrace, broad shoulders promising to protect you, making you feel safe in his care. Jin on the other hand is simply ecstatic to feel you on him, feeling your thumping heart beat for him, after months of pining and pondering whether anything would become of the seed of your tumultuous friendship. Now, it has blossomed to a garden of prospect and promise, every petal of every flower here reading a new opportunity to tell you how much he adores you, cherishes you, treasures you. How much he loves you.  An opportunity he doesn’t wait to use. 

“I love you.”

The pink tinge of your cheeks either comes from the sex, or from his comment, but either way, he is glad its from him. 

“I love you too, Jin. So, so very much.”

If your heart could leap out of your chest, it would do so, to find its way to his and fuse into one. But for now, your entwined bodies give you all you want. 

You hear Jin stifle a laugh, and pull back in question. He points to something odd on the countertop.

“What is that?”

The cream white surface of the table, that was maligned by your ignoble deeds, now sports two glistening, wheatish semi circles that look very similar to the sizes of one person who was splayed on top of it just moments ago. 

“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”

“Shut up.” All you can do is fall closer into his arms, hopefully masking the tint of embarrassment highlighting the apples of your cheeks. “I wanted to make them look extra good for you.”

He’s given up on holding back, the full-bellied laugh that resonated from him echoing across the room. But it dwindles down fast, coming to small chuckles of tenderness, and he slips his digits beneath your chin to have you meet his gaze.

“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”

Taglist 💛:  @little7bitchh​, @afangirllikeme-blog​, @h34rt1lly, @marpotterhead​

Thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the fic, my ask box is always open for your lovely opinions. To read more of my work, find my main masterlist here. :)

[oh-for-fic-sake]

It’s A Match Chapter One

Masterlist

Disclaimer

Summary: Filming is over and Henry returns home to and empty house. And he doesn't like it, things are getting to him and he doesn't want to be alone anymore. Then his brother suggests online dating, it sounds mad but henry decides to give it a shot. If worst comes to worst he just deletes the profile. He has nothing to loose right?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Cheese, Self Indulgent Fic, Rpf, Plus sized reader.

A/N: so I wrote this before the whole 'girlfriend' shock and everything that has followed. I was of two minds whether to ever post it but honestly, this is my blog and I've clearly stated that i am going to continue writing Rpf. I want to do a little ficlet/mini fic and well here we go. It wont be smutty just  somewhat angsty then fluffy. Enjoy~

Taglist: In Reblogs.

Henry slumped back on the seat in his conservatory and sighed, from here he could see his brothers and their wives outside, each snuggled up on the out door wicker sectional he had got to have the family over. It was the first family get together for over a year. He was happy, god it was amazing to see them but... He couldn't help being a tad envious.

They all had a family, wife and kids to go through this shitstorm in. He had no one, well he ha Kal. But that was it he sighed and looked away sipping from his cup slowly takeing a moment for himself. He needed to just chill, but it was getting hard... This year had really knocked him back he was at an all time low he hadn't felt like this for a long time. He knew he was depressed, he felt stupid there was no reason to be but there we go.

Henry had been getting himself all twisted for a while now, filming the Witcher helped but now that was over and he was home alone. Left with his thoughts in a big empty house.

"Sooo little brother want to tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to get mum in here?" Henry jumped at the voice and spun around to face his brother who was keeping a safe distance at the door. Wiping his hands down clearly just having washed them again.

"I ah its nothing, you know me I'm a worry wart" he said waving off his older brother he didn't want to bring down the mood of the small gathering, it was why he had come in here to take a breather.

"You called us all here for a visit hen, out of the blue when lockdown is still being eased out. Its clear you don't want to be alone, yet your sitting in here alone." His older brother said leaning on the door frame folding his arms trying to figure out what was really going on. He could see his little brother was hurting he wanted to help.

"I've got Kal" Henry said with a chuckle and looked about for the bear only to frown and sigh seeing the room was empty apart fro  him and his brother.

"Kal's outside with the kids hen, what's up? You can tell me you know" henry sided as his sibling  moved sitting in the small seat across from him. He knew that his family would listen but he felt so... spoilt like he was asking too much and was being selfish. It wasn't like him.

He grunted leaning back choosing not to look at his brother instead focusing on the cup in his hand. He spun it slightly then heaved a sigh. He wasn't getting away with not speaking about it, he was going to air out his worries one way or another. With his brother or his mother, and he loved his mother but this was? He wanted to keep this issues close to his chest. So far only Kal knew about his problems.

"I... I've had enough... just had enough of fucking covid and being alone... i felt isolated before all this shit kicked off and now?" He vented releasing all the fears he had. It was tough, he was a family man without his own little family, he hadn't managed to find anyone to share his life with and it got to him. He tried being sincere and polite, he took care of himself and tried staying true to himself but... something was missing it had to be! On paper he was a safe bet a good man! Yet his relationships never worked. There were different opinions or his other half couldn't handle the life style or they tried changing him or they couldn't put up with the way he loved so furiously- so openly wanting to always hold and kiss them. It just never quite worked.

"Its- fuck everything has just caught up with me...worries I've had for a few years now I could ignore them you know? I had other stuff going on, was always out and about meetings and press tours I was busy! But now?" He tried putting his feeling into words but he was conscious, he didn't want to whine or bitch about his life. He loved his work and the life he had made for himself he just? Wanted someone to share it with.

"Now after covid you've got all the time in the world to think?" Henry nodded agreeing with his brother. Covid had made him face these fears head on. He has been alone for the best part of a year with the uncertainty of his work and filming quarantines and isolations.

"Yeah, it hurts I'm... I'm in deep and I? I don't know how I'm getting out of this slump" henry finally said outloud, his brother dipped his head listening to him as he ranted. Started letting out all the frustration and anxiety out but stopped short with another growl closeing his hand around the cup tightly hissing in frustration then looked away.

"And what's caused it? I know you hate being alone but?" Henry sighed shaking his head as his brother tried coaxing more out of him. He drew in a shaky breath wanting to cry, he was just so lost and upset over being upset and alone.

"Two lock downs... Two alone- I? If this carries on for the next few years I don't... I don't want to be alone anymore! I want to settle down, I want an actual personal life! A relationship a family and? How? How am I gonna find all that? They want fame or money or something! Women never seem to want me for me, they say the do then judge me for my hobbies- I'm a geek I like tech and games and fantasy! And women don't like that" he spewed the words like they were venom, half ashamed of being so dramatic but the fear was real. Henry was scared, he wanted love. He wanted a family of his own, and it seemed impossible, now more then ever.

"I want to meet someone who will take me as I am, for me and I just I'm giving up. I'm giving up on it I can feel it, almost forty and look, alone unmarried no kids-I have no one to share my life with, it hurts am I not good enough for that?"  He hung his head as he spoke the final words put loud. He felt so vain and full of himself when he said them out loud, his skin crawled.

But it was how he felt, being the muscular decent looking man he was didn't go with his personality. He was a geek and the woman who were drawn to him didn't want that. And the woman that shared his hobbies normally weren't confident enough to even speak to him. Society's views on acceptable couples had put Henry in no mans land.

"What about online dating?" His brother spoke up but Henry just grunted rolling his eyes frustrated.

"What? No I cant do that I'd be fucking swamped" he hissed in irritation frustrated at the mere suggestion of him trying to date online.

"Whoa hold your horses let me finish I mean come on Hen there's bound to be hundreds of shy sweet women on there, I mean girls that are into your hobbies and stuff aren't usually the ones out and about partying and stuff, so its more likely they will be online" his brother quickly explained before Henry could pop off on one and shut him down.

Henry opened his mouth and stopped himself. That was a good point. Many of the women he would click with weren't going to be in bars or fancy parties. They were normally shy and at home most of the time reading or playing games.

"I... You really think i could meet someone? Meet the one online?" He asked in a small voice warming to the idea. His sibling smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes little brother, your a down to earth guy, just make a profile and have a look, if you don't like what you see you can delete the profile" henry nodded slowly thinking it over. There'd be no harm if he failed well he'd be no worse off, a little disheartened but that's about it.

"Look write down a few things you want in your dream girl, have a pseudo name like fucking I don't know Hank! Or something and say your a runner on set or something" his brother spoke up quickly as Henry sat back and actually thought about it seriously. He was right, henry could tweak things and be careful about what he shared and if he did meet the one then she'd understand... He could explain the predicament he was in. That he just wanted someone who liked him for him. And he would only reveal himself to her if she was the one and he was sure she would understand. As long as he was himself and honest about everything else in his life then there was no harm... and if he used proper photos of himself just... half cropped out then? It wasn't catfishing? Because he was being himself just using the nickname his mother used to call him.

"O-okay so be myself but... Just tweak a few things? So they don't know its me?" He reiterated to his brother still trying to figure out the morality of this whole idea.

"Yes! No full on pictures, no photos of Kal either new photos henry not old, maybe of your eyes up or something? Girls love blue eyed boy- not your right that brown will give you away... you could even fuck em up with a behind the scenes character photo? I mean come on how many men use a superman photo for their profile these days?" He encouraged wanting more then anything to cheer up his little brother.

"I yeah... That could work ,thank you- I'm sorry I got so worked up it... Its just getting to me now" henry apologised but his brother shook his head and chuckled standing up to go back outside to the others that were all happily chatting in the garden.

"I know Hen, look just give it a go, you might be surprized... come on lets get back out there, after all you are the host~ you cant just run off and hide" henry grinned standing and following his brother. It was decided, he'd give online dating a go!

A week later Henry sat at the computer everything was ready, he'd taken some precise photos and had spent the last half hour writing a profile up. He had felt a little guilty about this... Was he lying? Technically it was him, he was going by Hank which was a nickname his parents gave him as a child, luckily this site didn't require a surname because honestly? He had no clue! To fend off some guilt he had thrown in a behind the scenes photo of himself as superman it wasn't much but it helped take the edge off. The other photos were cropped and there were a good few just so that the women knew he wasn't technically a catfish; he even did one with him covering half of his face with a piece of paper with Hank scrawled across it. At the time he felt silly but it helped with his anxiety over the whole thing.

He paused for a second eyeing the screen rereading the profile over and over trying to make sure it was alright and honest. And it was, he had explained a little about himself, his hobbies and interests and his job... Only brushing over he worked for the film and tv industry recently working for Netflix he hadn't exactly explained what he did but there was enough information.

With a deep breath he clicked the button his mouse hovered over going live with the profile. Now all he had to do was wait and hope he caught a good womans eye. Within moments a few profiles popped up, matches. He scanned them flicking through some of the profiles and felt his heart crack. They were all full of badly filtered photos and used slang that to be honest he didn't even understand. What was so hard about using plain English?

He growled growing frustrated clicking through what were clearly a bunch of wannabe sugar babies. Each profile had a main photo a little bit of info then a few more pictures added to them. He scanned each one quickly going through the motions judging each one. 'Too far away... Your clearly not even eighteen?... Oh you like dc? Really hate to break it to you but thor is not a dc character' Henry grunted as he bypassed what felt like hundreds of women each with their own 'duck face' selfie most advertising their Instagram pages some even ballsy enough to add their only fans pages.

'Wait a second who was that?' He paused and scrolled back up and eyed the image on screen. It was a face on photo a cute woman smiling uncomfortably. Unlike everyone else's there was no distorting blur or heavy editing, the only make up was in the form of eyeliner in a set of black slightly uneven cat eyes. A slightly skewed black flicks making a point of no editing on the photo.

She was a full figured woman with proper kissable round cheeks and a sweet nervous grin. Her eyes were what got him, they were kind and genuine he could see she was uneasy about the photo but she was beautiful. She lived about half hour away which wasn't to bad.

Henry clicked the profile and scrolled down she didn't smoke, drunk occasionally and had no children. She did however have a college education in animal care and ran a small business. Centred on dogs by the looks of it. He moved further down reading the profile.

Y/n, 30, business owner, e/c, 5'4, curvy

I'm shy so will take a while to warm up to you. A honest woman, sometimes to honest I don't seem to have a filter 🤗 I'm laid back and tend to be sarcastic and I love animals I'm a kc certified dog breeder as well as run a small successful business that caters to dogs. So if you are allergic or don't like dogs then leave now but thank you for clicking🙃

I spend most of my free time gaming or reading. I enjoy the fantasy genre and love dc and marvel (though I love dc just a tad more🤫)

I have one fur baby in the form of my lovely girl Amii who is a three year old malamute. Yes malamute not a husky or Akita so again if you don't like dogs or big dogs I'm not the girl for you.

I'm looking for someone to have fun and maybe build a life with. Covid has been tough being single and decided that it was about time I tried this whole online dating thing. If you want to chat pop me a message 🥰

I do not have a personal Instagram, snapchat or only fans! Stop asking for pictures!😠😠

Henry's face split into a huge grin. She seemed to good to be true. She was wholesome, successful in her own right and looked fun. She didn't seem to be full of kale and bullshit. Just genuine and? Henry couldn't put his finger on it but there was something drawing him to this woman.

True to her word there was no Instagram link, no only fans or snap chat or anything. He scrolled further seeing photos of her and the biggest fluffiest dog he had ever seen in his life. She was sitting down next to who he assumed was Amii her dog and he melted. Y/n looked happy and content, living her best life.

There was nothing that sent alarm bells ringing, no racey photos or 'Netflix and chill' innuendos. The profile was clean and genuine.  He was right the woman was a little chunky but extraordinarily beautiful. The curves suited her and made her look more... cheerful and he could tell she was strong aswell, you had to be to have a huge dog like that about you.

There were photos of her walking a large pack of dogs in the wood; that he recognised! They were the very same he took Kal to only ten minuets down the road, he even recognised the small logo of her company on the jacket she wore. He had seen dog walkers wearing the same jacket so he knew of her brand. I he remembered correctly the company offered dog walking, grooming and kennel facilities as well as offering Breeding services helping stud dogs and stuff. They also helped advertise registered breeders and took in rescues for rehoming. It was a brilliant little company that he had even used for Kal once or twice to get his teeth cleaned and nails clipped, because Kal was a bugger for his pedicures!

He moved further down seeing more photos of the woman a small section with the games and tv she liked. Witcher was in both the tv and games category aswell as peaky blinders, Vikings and a few other shows.

Henry paused as he saw the chat button. Should he? He but his lip twisting on the spot in he chair rocking from side to side. What harm is there? He could just send a message she looked like a fun loving woman, he shared the same interests and stuff... so why not?

His fingers hovered over the keys ready to type out the words. But he choked. His mind ran blank what does he say? Hi? I saw your profile? Does he ask for a date? What does he do?

He let his hands fall and growled. Then scanned over the side of the message bar seeing a few pre-typed responses.

'It's a match!' 'You look fun, lets chat' 'I like your profile picture'

He winced they all seemed... wrong? Somehow they were polite and all but it- they wasn't personal or anything just... not quite right. He looked down as Kal came padding over and slumped next to him resting his chin on his foot with a loud sigh. With that Henry had an idea typing away a little message and hitting send before he could really think.

You sighed typing away the latest wage slips and added up all the various overtime, you really needed some more staff on now that lockdown was coming to an end. Thankfully animal care was essential so you hadn't been hit too hard a few staff were on furlough as they were extreme high risk and shielding but you were going out of your way to make the premises covid safe. Luckily it wasn't too hard as much of the business was just a few staff and lots of dogs.

You frowned when a chat icon popped up in to corner of your screen. 'Hank?' You though trying to remember if you knew a Hank? Maybe a client or some old friend... but you honestly couldn't recall. You l saved your document and clicked the small icon bringing up a chat and frowned a you read the little message.

'I call my dog bear but he has nothing on Amii, Shes the fluffiest dog I've ever seen in my life she looks perfect for bear hugs😅'

'what the hell?' You cursed scrunching your nose up at the screen rereading the words. That's a bit random... you clicked his icon a small photo of half of his face then froze as a dating profile opened up. 'Oh... shit' you said seeing that your own profile you'd set up a few days ago out of curiosity had garnered the attention of the handsome blue eyed stranger. You swallowed biting you lip thoughts of finishing updating your records now gone as you scanned Hanks profile and a small smile crossed your face.

Hank, 37, works in the film industry. Blue eyes, 6ft, muscular.

Decided to finally try this online dating, unsure what to say other then I'm looking for a life partner. I like to think I'm funny and laid back. I'm fit and active but that doesn't mean you have to be, but maybe my lady could come for walks with me and my four legged son? I promise he's my best freind and a good boy.

My job is tough and I'm away for long periods of time, but when I'm home I like to play games and am into warcraft. I paint miniatures when I can. Fantasy and superheroes are a big part of my hobbies so if you don't like all things geek then I'm probably not for you.

But if they are? Then feel free to message me, I will reply when I can.

You read and re-read the profile And your hands hovered over your chicklet keyboard. Biting your lip, do you respond? He seemed sweet and real... if that made sense. You took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen? Asking for a plane ticket? You decided to take a chance and typed back a reply hitting send whilst you had your nerve and then flushed.

"And they say fluffy dogs only lure in women~" You giggled to yourself  moving a hand over the huge fluffy girl beside you giving her pets whislt thinking of a reply.

[lovee-infected]

hi! could i see your insights about ace? i saw a anon say from another blog that kinda has unrealistic expectations in a relationship and it kinda stuck with me. i mean in his ghost marriage he already knows the things he wants in a partner but he didn't show guilt about dumping his girlfriend, even. i think if you date him because he sees these quality in you and as the relationship last, he'll dump you if you get boring to him lol

I never thought that I'd say this but, wow, I'm impressed. I've been really curious about Ace since I get to see a variety of different content with different representations of his personality, so I decided to stick with his canon stories and lines. This analysis was so much fun to write and I'd assure you all that not only Ace but rather all of the first year characters are WAY more than they seem to be! Many just decide to ignore them and pass away, calling them good boys or precious stupid beanies at first.

Speaking of Ace, we've all seen how trending he's been recently. Many theories, thoughts and new arguments exist through the fandom as many want to get to know this boy better.

Theories like "Ace's betrayal theory" as well have been mentioned a lot lately, some agree and some disagree. While we aren't going to talk about that theory or any other theories in this analysis, I'd like to take time to talk about the reasons why those theories might seem appealing and accurate. In other words, we're going to talk about where they are coming from!

1) Ace is incredibly smart and brave

It's true that characters like Jade or Azul's remarkable genius often stands out as it's clearly visible through their presence in the game, from iconic decisions to stunning strategies. But what we need to realize is how characters like Ace can be just as inspiring while their true intelligence is often shallowed by extras and giving them much of a dumb picture in the game.

To begin with, let us note that Ace's brother himself was one of the considerably strong magicians in Heartslabyul's history and even his presence through the magicshift is still remarkable even though years has passed. As the second child of the family, Ace's change to achieve success is even higher than his brother's as he already has a role model he really looks up to, so in that point Ace isn't one to underestimate. But, let me point that his relationship with his brother also contains lots of jealousy and sometimes negativity. His brother was one to always trick Ace and he continues to do so even nowadays! Ace on the other hand doesn't enjoy being pissed off over and over even as he's used to it. Well, we can say that it's another reason for him to train his hardest and become a greater magician than his brother therefore he won't be the bully material of the Trappola household anymore.

Regardless of how effective his brother might've been on him, Ace himself has shown plenty of strong hints that reveal not only his high IQ but also EQ:

He can solve math problems in second, which is a rather important feature to note because the way you deal with math can directly effect the way you deal with life. Not saying that one has to be great at math to be great at something else but it's rather about the perspective and ability of logical thinking that it gives to one. I'd say that this effect is quite visible if you take a look at the way he speaks in serious situations; he's got much of an analytical brain. Let's not forget that Cater as well confirmed that he's much of a skill stealer, is pretty good at remembering things and is a quick thinker! These are go on to show how much of an underestimated genius he is.

Whenever something goes wrong, Ace would be the first one to notice it even if it's a silly matter. And it always begins with a seemingly childish argument, but ends incrucial matters that not a single soul had noticed before! Just take a look at chapter one, what would've happened if Ace hadn't spoken up? He was just one of the hundreds of students having to be severely punished under Riddle's strict rules and he surely wasn't the first one to go through this. Him taking the urge to fight Riddle sounded stupid and naïve at first, many even told him off because he was just acting like a pissed off child. But as he continued to argue and oppose toward Riddle's way as a leader, even Trey realized how he's been keeping his eye shut on all this problems for so long. The way Ace stood against Trey was iconic, he confidently defended his point not by his personal demands and feelings but with facts and logical comments on why Trey's way of threatening Riddle is wrong. He did the same thing again at he ghost marriage, just think of it! Not a single soul ever cared to tell the bride about true love but Ace was there, and he was the one and only to do this after more than 500 years of the bride's existence! This Ace, this serious and mature face of Ace is something that can surely fascinate anyone. His bravery, the way he puts all that strength through words, hisextremely logical point of view and his enthusiasm to solve the problems no matter how unimportant they seem to be is indeed appreciatble. Seriously though, what would've happened to Riddle is Ace wasn't there? When Ace firstly begun to oppose to him, everyone thought that is was just a childish argument. They had no idea how severe and destructive Riddle's temper issues were and how harmful they were down inside.

2) He's one of the dumbest characters in the whole game

You know what? He is dumb. Yes he's incredibly smart but this isn't going to change the fact that he is dumb as hell, so I'm never going to argue when someone's nagging on how much of an idiot he is. But most importantly, we need to know what's making him so dumb:

His presence through the stories has proved that Ace is eventually pretty good at detecting the main source of problems both on the mental and physical side. He was the first to realize Riddle's issues, Trey's huge mistake with Riddle, Ghost bride's unawareness and Epel's gloomy and sad aura in chapter 4. Ace's also one to easily tell whether what someone is doing is wrong or not, he can see through people and bring their mistakes to their attention. The problem is... he can't be quite the same with himself. That's what makes him awfully dumb.

Back in chapter one, he did have a point about Riddle's way of leadership being so unfair and messed up, but when he decided to challenge Riddle and even take his place as the dorm leader he was a total idiot who didn't how weak and unpractical his own magic was, he was being too dramatic. When he talked about his ex girlfriend, he just talked about how she held him back from doing what he wanted and was too uncool to spend time with, but he didn't mention a single thing about himself doing anything wrong in that relationship. He often fails to realize that he's got his own incompleteness and lacks just like anyone else, or prefers to put an blind eye to them most of the time (not all of the time)

Ace sets the perfect goals, but chooses the wrong path to achieve them. He needs to realize that just like everyone else, he can be sometimes wrong. He should take his time to get to know himself better; his abilities, his attitude, his faults and his mistakes and learn to be more patient and logical in order to achieve his goals. He's still young an inexperienced, by learning to put that brilliance of him into the perfect use he'd be able to become the great magician he wishes to be, and I'd say that in case that he continues to grow stronger and smarter, he'll have a high chance of being hesrtslabyul's next dorm leader!

3) He legit wants to be the "Ace"

This part's more of an attempt to do a name analyis and see how much it's been effective on Ace's personality. It actually makes a lot of snese since the word "Ace" itself has several meanings, and he used these different terms quite a few times in his personal stories. This point would also be explained in part (4) so for now, let's take a look at direct name definitions:

First of, remember what what an Ace is in a card game? "A playing card with a simple spot on it, ranked as the highest card in its suit" This goes on to tell us a lot, it's telling us what an Ace is. A loner yet the most powerful one of its own, just like how Ace wants to be.

Wanting to be an actuall Ace is definitely one of the things that sometimes makes Ace sound so jerky and he's aware of it! If you give it a closer look, you'll see that Ace doesn't really treat his friends like friends, especially with Deuce and Grim. He's often insulting or challenging them, and even during his birthday SSR when MC asked him about what he thinks of each of other first years (Who are basically his closest friends) he mainly criticized them and all, not a single word was said about things he likes about them and he didn't even call any of them his friend!

Well that's much of a jerky attitude to have toward people whom you spend almost all of your time with, especially your best of time.

He to play the role of the bad guy, the type to hang out with everyone without feeling any attached to them as even friends. Seems like our boy is trying to be a loner, a true Ace of cards and hearts. And he doesn't mind his friends calling him a bastard or jerk because of this. It's even confirmed that he's more of the popular guy type therefore he's mainly used to having people around!

On the other hand, he's trying his best to achieve success no matter what the obstacles are. It's true that he often messes up and fails, but we cannot say that he isn't trying. He almost lost his head for real during his SSR story where Riddle's favorite hedgehogs were lost because of Ace's impatience, but at last with the help of monsieur Rook and his own ability to imitate Rook's mole language skills Ace saved his neck one more time, and ended his story with a dramatic "Of course, I always Ace it!"

4) Ace does care, but pretends that he does not

In contrast to the fact that he wants to sound tricky,manipulative and mean, or how he's denying his friends' true worth to him like stated in part (3), Ace is probably one of the most caring and supportive characters in the game. Not saying that he's just as bright as someone like Kalim, but his way of seeing through people and wishing them to be better, wealthier and happier than they already are is surely something. This fact is often ignored because, well...everyone's too busy calling him either dumb or sus/ jk!

Just imagine having a friend or at least, a classmate you know like Ace. How's he supposed to be? He'd realize it when someone's bullying/bothering/ or intentionally harming you, and he isn't going to be silent about it. If you see that you're permanently sad, angry, rude or loud then again he'd speak up, he isn't going to just pull up with anyone's unhealthy habit like nothing's happened. He's got much of a big brain as well so you should expect him to say a bunch of helpful and meaningful stuff when he's using that brain, mainly in serious situations. He may not be a permanently mutual to have around, but when the troubles arrive, know that having Ace around is always an advantage.

To top it off, he's even shown sympathy toward people whom he seemed to like the least at first like Riddle; he wishes Riddle to be happier, to smile more, to be more open about his emotions with other students. At some point he even admits that he looks up to him, he used to overestimate his powers and challenged Riddle, but during the ghost marriage he said that he knows how powerful and strong Riddle is, therefore he should work his hardest to study and train to become strong just like him! He already seems to be more cheerful and bright when MC is talking to him, but when it comes to Grim and Deuce...it gets quite complicated. What we see the most is often Ace insulting them or saying that he's going to kick their asses, but they're also his closest friends all though he refuses to admit to it.

Just wait for Deuce or Grim to get in a serious danger or pain, and see how much of a protective one Ace can be! He isn't going to remain silent when one is in danger, but he's surely going to deny all that effort and affection he gave into action afterwards. When Ace can feel this cautious and understanding toward Riddle, someone who isn't even a friend of his then imagine how supportive and caring he would be toward his close friends like Deuce, MC and Grim!

In his ghost marriage as well, his words and the way he spoke of the meaning of true love left everyone, even Crowley, impressed (Crowley even said that he's fallen in love with this side of Ace's personality), but refused to admit that he was speaking of his true feelings after the ceremony. Someone like Grim is too bold to recognize how much of a different person Ace can be inside, so he claimed that Ace was just rambling nonsense without thinking of what he was saying back then, and Ace agreed with him! This is a continuation to part (3) where we talked about how he wants to be a loner, he doesn't want anyone to see how caring and sometimes, emotional he can be inside! Poor boy is quite shy showing his true feelings we can tell~

5) Ace can be quite tricky and manipulative

This part will also explain some of the main reasons behind famous theories like "Ace's betrayal theory", and I wanted to have a certain part to talk about this point specifically because it's been quite trending through the whole fandom, and many are wondering why theorizers are considering his betrayal a possibility, so here we go!

As said, one of the main factors the makes Ace seem suspicious would be his incredible intelligence. The fact that he can actually be that smart all the time but isn't openly showing his talents and abilities can be quite questionable, more details regarding his intelligence and most likely high IQ and EQ were discussed in part (1)!

Enough with intelligence, let's focus on his personality! This is mainly what this part is talking about, his trickiness. Just like his father and older brother, Ace is pretty good with magic tricks. Small and fun tricks are a convenient yet easy ways to inspire others and Ace doesn't mind showing the crowd what he's got up in sleeve when possible. But the thing is...this isn't just about fancy tricks.

This ability can be expanded into any other field such as mental terms and enable him to indirectly control and play with one's mind. That's more of a possibility though! He hasn't yet shown any signs of being any manipulative but, well, we can't say that it's beyond his abilities. Ace himself can be quite sarcastic and mean at the time, he doesn't seem to mind slightly tricking his friends either. Nothing about him seems to be serious, but the possibilities remain still.

The way he learnt those tricks as well is mentionable; no one ever teached himm any of those tricks, he learnt them through being repeatedly tricked, and learning to copy and redo what he saw. Both Rook and Cater so far have confirmed that Ace's ability to learn so quickly and learn and redo techniques just by watching them is fantastic.

His genius and ability to learn and memorize everything that he needs to learn pretty fast, along side his tricky and sometimes personality can make Ace quite dangerous. If someone like him decides to choose such a remarkable talent for evil purposes, that's surely going to be bad news. That's much and less of what makes Ace's betrayal theory make sense although there're still fans who find it quite questionable. I'm not a supporter of this theory myself as I hadn't seen any signs of Ace having any bad intentions so far, but I do get where the theorizers are coming from and that makes sense. Ace has been trying to put on much of a mean and lowkey evil face on through the story and no one can really say what's exactly going on in that brain. We'll that about this uncertainty in part (7)!

6) His past relationship was...uh

For now, Ace is the only character who is confirmed to have experience in love and relationships, and this was a rather effective factor since many have been talking about Ace's past relationship afterwards. The thing is...Ace did talk about how his girlfriend held him back from having fun and living the life he wanted to live. Well there's actually a lot we should say about this one so I'm not gonna rush to the end, let's think about all of the aspects of this situation logically:

First of, the relationship itself. I'd say that it was a wrong attempt for them to date each other in the first place because obviously, Ace and his girlfriend weren't made for each other. They were total opposites in interests and they couldn't even have fun together. If Ace chose to go on a wild roller coater ride, the girl would've freaked out and when she chose a small, childish ride that she liked Ace instead didn't enjoy it at all. It's surely an issue when you and your partner can't even watch a movie which both of you can enjoy together since their tastes were totally different, just jow was this relationship going to last? Ace wasn't happy, and if he was going to do what made him happy the girl in return would've been sad. They were two different people of two different points, dating at this point was nothing but a mistake.

On the other hand, Ace as well is guilty. First off, she shouldn't have dated the girl in the first place if he was aware of how different her tastes were. Second, from what he said he never showed any signs of dissatisfaction when he had to give up on what he liked to listen to what the girl friend liked. The girl friend obviously told him that she was scared of a horror movie, but Ace just kept his mouth shut and felt awfully annoyed as he watched a romance movie with her while he didn't like it at all. If he'd at least told her girlfriend about this, she wouldn't have felt as injured and cheated when Ace broke up with her. Ace shouldn't have bottled it up, he deserved to enjoy the relationship just as much as the girl did. He shouldn't have expected things to get any better if he wasn't going to solve anything about it in the first place. If he'd talked about his personal desires and favorites as well, and had his uncomfortableness with most of the girl's choices discussed before hand, there could've been a chance of them coming into a conclusion and even not breaking up! The girl could've tried to be braver for him, and Ace could've agreed to be softer because of her. There would've been a HUGE difference if they'd talked about it logically.

Also, keep this in mind that the girl had no idea about Ace's uncomfortableness which was low key naïve of her (It's not cool when you don't even realize that your boyfriend doesn't like something) but this also made him awfully unprepared for a break up! Ace should've st least talked about his feelings and how he was unable to continue that relationship with her instead of just dropping her out of nowhere. That would've also decreased the chance of having to deal with the girl's friends after wards!

Finally, let's say that this relationship was wrong in too many aspects. They weren't each other's type, and we can't really blame Ace for dropping someone whom he couldn't be happy with. The main of being in a relationship is spending time with someone whom you can enjoy your time with. He as well was guilty because he can't just drop the girl like he just didn't care and had gotten tired of her while he had his own reasons for dropping her, he should've let the girl know that it wasn't necessarily her fault, it was about Ace not being able to relate to her tastes and habits.

Also, let's be honest. Not much is expected when a 15 year old is dating. Being in a relationship is an awfully sensitive and important choice and someone like Ace hasn't reached that level of maturity to be ready to date someone, let alone doing it at his 15s! Honestly... they should've learnt a lot before dating each other because it isn't a silly thing. Dating like this is nothing but playing around for a while for fun, it's a childish game of spending some time together until they break up.

For now, Ace is finds love quite silly and meaningless so we can clearly see that his past relationship has pissed him off. Well Ace needs to realize that his relationship with his ex wasn't a serious one, so it's normal for it to seem unimportant and silly. He needs to learn a lot without dating someone again, such as knowing how crucial it is to make sure that his hobbies would match his partners, to make sure tjat they get along, and simply, he needs to find his own type! Not all people are made for each other, and he isn't supposed to fall for anyone with any possible personality that pops up on his way.

Also, I'd say that he still needs to focus on studying instead of dating. He needs to reach the required level of maturity to be ready to start a healthy and successful relationship again. Also, he might end up being totally different from what we've seen about him being in a relationship do far when he grows up! Idealistics do change a lot olin teenagehood.

7) We need to talk about our first years a lot more!!!

This point isn't just about him, but rather all of the first years! If I were to rate the most ignored and shallowed personalities of twst, the first years should've gone on the top of this list. Even when we're speaking of the mischaracterized characters of the game, many consider Ace and Deuce to be the least mischaracterized while they happen to be the most mischaracterized as no one evencares to see through them and feel like we aren't mischaracterizing them just because we're ignoring them! Come on guys, Ace's design and personality is a lot more complicated and harder to read than characters like Vil and even Leona!

Out of all first years Sebek was the only one to get some proper shout outs so far but why isn't anyone talking about Ace and Deuce the way they deserve to be talked about? Their presence through the game is even more important than the dorm leaders as they are the closest characters to MC, and their personality design is just incredible, no just because of how perfectly detailed it is, but also because of giving them this unpredictability and incompleteness which totally matches their age!

Studies have shown that judging one's personality based on how they're doing at the age of 16 or younger is prettyhard and impossible, and it's a totally serious fact. At the age of 16, human's personality is under severe effects and changes until reaching it's final-developed shape. That's accurate toward almost all of the first years except Jack since he seems to have more of a mature personality.

NRC's first years are really complicated, especially a character like Ace. That why I said that we can't yet tell if he's a good guy or not, because at this level of life he can choose to be anything. He can be good, he can be bad, he can be neutral. That's why he's showing too much of opposite actions at the moment. One second he's being the biggest idiot in the whole world, the other second he's planning like a 50 year old genius. One second he's being protective over his friends, the other second he sighs and tells MC how annoying they are.

That's why Ace is hard to read, we can't tell what his true feelings are until he reaches the required mental stability to be judged as a mature and complete personality. 18 year olds like Vil have already reached that level of maturity and completeness, finding their unique magics as well is another sign of it. But our first years still need to learn and experience until they find their real selves, to see who they are.

This is one of the most adorable facts about their design because they really gave him this young and wild and incomplete nature to show that they're still young! This is quite incredible how careful Yana was to remember that they all needed some this childishness in their design, their designs are just as accurate and realistic as a real 16 year old's! They still need to learn, and that's why they're the closest ones to MC.

MC needs to learn and get to see more and more of this world, and so do the first years! They're just as unexperienced and new to this world, and they can relate to MC better than anyone else can!

So please, from now on, let's remember to talk about not only Ace, but also all of the first years more often. Ace and Deuce's designs especially are the most detailed and beautiful ones if you take time to know them better. Remember that after the 7 dorm leaders, Ace and Deuce's roles as the protagonist's closest allies are the most crucial in the game, so let's not just decide to ignore all these creative features and pass by them without thinking how much they can mean.

Woah, this one was quite harder to write than I'd expected! There are way too many things to say about him which made me have to summarize this into just this 7 parts for now. Ace is surely and odd yet interesting one to study, even more interesting than usually famous characters like Leona and Azul, which is partly because of how unpredictable he is!

[keijislove]

Entranced: Ron Weasley X Reader

"I played like a sack of dragon dung," said Ron in a hollow voice when

the changing room door had swung shut behind Ginny.

You had just had Quidditch practice and you, being one of the best Chasers, tried your best not to tell Ron that you’d given him the easiest serves of all

"No, you didn't," you said firmly.

"You're the best Keeper I tried out, Ron. Your only problem is nerves." Harry added.

You both kept up a relentless flow of encouragement all the way back to the castle, and by the time you reached the second floor, Ron was looking marginally more cheerful. When Harry pushed open the tapestry to take their usual shortcut up to Gryffindor Tower, however, they found themselves looking at Dean and Ginny, who were locked in a close embrace and kissing fiercely as though glued together.

You covered your mouth to supress a giggle as Harry’s features set into a scowl of the deepest loathing.

Ron, looking fairly affronted as well, spoke first.

"Oi!"

Dean and Ginny broke apart and looked around. "What?" said Ginny.

"I don't want to find my own sister snogging people in public!"

"This was a deserted corridor till you came butting in!" said Ginny.

Dean was looking embarrassed. He gave Harry a shifty grin that Harry did not return.

"Er . . . c'mon, Ginny," said Dean, "let's go back to the common room. ..."

"You go!" said Ginny. "I want a word with my dear brother!" Dean left, looking as though he was not sorry to depart the scene.

"Right," said Ginny, tossing her long red hair out of her face and glaring at Ron, "let's get this straight once and for all. It is none of your business who I go out with or what I do with them, Ron --"

"Yeah, it is!" said Ron, just as angrily. "D' you think I want people saying my sister's a --"

"A what?" shouted Ginny, drawing her wand. "A what, exactly?"

"He doesn't mean anything, Ginny --" you coaxingly began.

"Oh yes he does!" she said, flaring up at you. "Just because he's never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he's ever had is from our Auntie Muriel --"

"Shut your mouth!" bellowed Ron, bypassing red and turning maroon.

"No, I will not!" yelled Ginny, beside herself. "I've seen you with Phlegm, hoping she'll kiss you on the cheek every time you see her, it's pathetic! If you went out and got a bit of snogging done yourself, you wouldn't mind so much that everyone else does it!"

  Ron had pulled out his wand too; Harry stepped swiftly between them.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron roared, trying to get a clear shot at Ginny around Harry, who was now standing in front of her with his arms outstretched. "Just because I don't do it in public --!"

Ginny screamed with derisive laughter, trying to push Harry out of the way. “Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or have you got a picture of Auntie Muriel stashed under your pillow?" You –"

A streak of orange light flew under Harrys left arm and missed Ginny by inches; Harry pushed Ron up against the wall.

"Don't be stupid --"

"Harry's snogged Cho Chang!" shouted Ginny, who sounded close to tears now. "Hermione snogged Viktor Krum! Heck, even Y/N’s nogged Cedric probably once, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!"

“Hey, you’ve got no business talking to him like that!” you were very red in the face indeed.

“Oh, save it.” Ginny snarled, “You’re just embarrassed I told Ron you snogged Cedric.”

“I didn’t snog him-”

“I’m sorry Y/N, as much of a great friend and elder-sister vibes you have given me... he needs to know.”

And with that, she stormed away. Harry quickly let go of Ron; the look on his face was murderous. They both stood there, breathing heavily, until Mrs. Norris, Filch’s cat, appeared around the corner, which broke the tension.

"C'mon," said Harry, as the sound of Filch's shuffling feet reached their ears.

They hurried up the stairs and along a seventh-floor corridor. "Oi, out of the way!" Ron barked at a small girl who jumped in fright and dropped a bottle of toadspawn.

You hardly noticed the sound of shattering glass; you felt disoriented, dizzy; being struck by a lightning bolt must be something like this. You saw Ron ripping open the tapestry curtain and drawing his wand on Harry, shouting things like "betrayal of trust" . . . "supposed to be my friend" . . .

"Did you really snog Diggory?" Ron asked abruptly, as you approached the Fat Lady.

You turned around, “Excuse me?”

"Dilligrout," Ron said darkly to the Fat Lady, and they climbed through the portrait hole into the common room.

“I hardly think that’s any of your business, Ronald.” You coldly said.

“Oh, please.” The redhead sneered before trudging upstairs to his dormitory.

--------

Ron had been awful to you since the past few days. He’d try his best to ignore you and even slip in a few snarky comments about you, something which was very un-Ron-like.

You had become so tired of Ron's recent unpleasant behaviour that you had not come down to breakfast with him and Harry since, instead choosing to go with Hermione.

She had initially questioned you, but a few snaps and choked sobs later, she left it and just consolingly rubbed your back as you silently thanked her every night.

She paused on her way up the table.

"How are you both feeling?" she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of Ron's head.

"I dont know what you're talking about," said Harry, stowing the little bottle hastily in his pocket.

“Thanks.” You gave a weary smile. You felt really bad ignoring Harry, but your pride had gotten on the way tremendously.

“She doesn’t need it.” Ron whispered loud enough for you to hear, “I ‘spose Diggory had already said that a hundred times.”

You were about to open your mouth, but someone interrupted.

"Nearly time.” said Harry blithely.

"Fishy, isn't it?" he said in an undertone to Ron. "Malfoy not playing?"

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

You, Ron and Harry were the last two in the changing room. You were just about to leave when Hermione entered. She was twisting her Gryffindor scarf in her hands and looked upset but determined. "I want a word with you, Harry." She took a deep breath. "You shouldn't have done it. You heard Slughorn, its illegal."

"What are you going to do, turn us in?" demanded Ron.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Harry.

"You know perfectly well what we're talking about!" said Hermione shrilly. "You spiked Ron’s juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!"

"No, I didn't," said Harry, turning back to face them both.

"Yes, you did, Harry, and that's why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing and Ron saved everything!"

"I didn't put it in!" said Harry, grinning broadly. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle that Hermione had seen in his hand that morning. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. "I wanted Ron to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking." He looked at Ron. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself."

He pocketed the potion again.

"There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?" Ron said, astounded. "But the weather's good. . . and Vaisey couldn't play. ... I honestly haven't been given lucky potion?"

Harry shook his head. Ron gaped at him for a moment, then rounded on Hermione, imitating her voice. "You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything! See! I can save goals without help, Hermione! Y/N’s bad enough as it is, I don’t need you making my life miserable as well."

You inhaled sharply as Harry guiltily sent you what looked like a consoling stare. You shook your head, trying your best not to scream at Ron.

"I never said you couldn't -- Ron, you thought you'd been given it too!" said Hermione.

But Ron had already strode past her out of the door with his broomstick over his shoulder.

"Er," said Harry into the sudden silence; he had not expected his plan to backfire like this, "shall. . . shall we go up to the party, then?"

"You go!" said Hermione, blinking back tears. "I'm sick of Ron at the moment, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done. . . ."

And she stormed out of the changing room too.

Which left you and Harry.

You refused to look at him and when he cleared his throat, you wanted to run, screaming.

“Y/N.” he began, “Is there... something I don’t know about?”

“Like what?”

“Like what the hell is going on between you and Ron?”

Harry instantly regretted saying this, as your lip trembled and you glared at him straight in the eye before coldly snapping, “If you haven’t noticed... Ronald has a problem of not knowing the fine line between being upset with someone and being nasty to them. I’m surprised how his broomstick can fly with that fat head on it.

When you arrived, the Gryffindor celebration party, which as in full swing. Renewed cheers and clapping greeted your appearance, and he was soon surrounded by a mob of people congratulating you. What with trying to shake off the Creevey brothers, who wanted a blow-by-blow match analysis, and the large group of girls that encircled Harry, laughing at his least amusing comments and batting their eyelids, it was some time before you could escape.

As you moved, you walked straight into Ginny, Arnold the Pygmy Puff riding on her shoulder and Crookshanks mewing hopefully at her heels.

"Looking for Ron?" she asked, smirking. "He's over there, the filthy hypocrite.”

You looked into the corner she was indicating. There, in full view of the whole room, stood Ron wrapped so closely around Lavender Brown it was hard to tell whose hands were whose.

"It looks like he's eating her face, doesn't it?" said Ginny dispassionately. "But I suppose he's got to refine his technique somehow. Good game, Y/N."

She patted you on the arm; you felt as if you had forgotten how to breathe, trying not to choke on your spit too severely from the amount of effort it took you not to cry.

You quickly turned away from Ron, who did not look like he would be surfacing soon, and darted out the door out of sight.

---------

"Y/N?" Harry’s voice called five minutes later.

He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. You were sitting on the teacher's desk, next to Hermione, who had a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair.

"Oh, hello, Harry," she said in a brittle voice. "I was just practicing."

"Yeah . . . they're -- er -- really good. ..." said Harry. “Listen, Y/N...”

He had no idea what to say to you. He was just wondering whether there was any chance that you had not noticed Ron, that you had merely left the room because the party was a little too rowdy, when you said, in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, "Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations."

"Er . . . does he?" said Harry.

"Don't pretend you didn't see him," said Hermione. "He wasn't exactly hiding it, was -- ?"

The door behind them burst open. To Harry's horror, Ron came in, laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand.

"Oh," he said, drawing up short at the sight of Harry, you and Hermione.

"Oops!" said Lavender, and she backed out of the room, giggling. The door swung shut behind her. There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermione was staring at Ron in disapproval and anger, who refused to look at her and the H/C girl, but said with an odd mixture of bravado and awkwardness, "Hi, Harry! Wondered where you'd got to!"

Hermione slid off the desk. The little flock of golden birds continued to twitter in circles around her head so that she looked like a strange, feathery model of the solar system.

"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside," she said quietly. "She'll wonder where you've gone."

She walked very slowly and erectly toward the door. Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened.

"Oppugno!" came a shriek from the doorway.

You spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: The little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets toward Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach, and you were not sorry for him in the least.

"Gerremoffme!" he yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and pulled you along, before you disappeared through it, choking on a sob.

----------

'Want one?” said Ron thickly, holding out a box of Chocolate Cauldrons.

It was his birthday, and no matter how angry you were, you dropped by to say an awkward hello.

“Suit yourself,” said Ron, stuffing a second Cauldron into his mouth as he slid out of bed to get dressed. 'Come on Harry. If you don't hurry up, you'll have to Apparate on an empty-stomach ... might make it easier, I suppose ..."

Ron looked thoughtfully at the box of Chocolate Cauldrons, then shrugged and helped himself to a third.

Harry tapped the map with his wand, muttered, 'Mischief managed,”

'Ready?' he said to Ron.

“Excuse me.” You quietly said to make them aware of your presence, “We’re going to be late.”

You and Harry were halfway to the dormitory door when you realised that Ron had not moved, but was leaning on his bedpost, staring out of the rain-washed window with a strangely un-focused look on his face.

'Ron? Breakfast.'

“I'm not hungry,”

You stared ai him. “I thought you just said -?”

“-Well, all right, I'll come down with you,' sighed Ron, 'but I don't want to eat.'

  You scrutinised him suspiciously.

'You've just eaten half a box of Chocolate Cauldrons, haven't you?'

'It's not that,' Ron sighed again. 'You ... you wouldn't understand.'

'Fair enough,' said Harry, albeit puzzled, as he turned to open the door.

'Harry!' said Ron suddenly.

'What?'

'Harry, I can't stand it!'

'You can't stand what?' asked Harry; you were now starting to feel definitely alarmed. Ron was rather pale and looked as though he was about to be sick.

'I can't stop thinking about her!' said Ron hoarsely.

You gaped at him. You had not expected this and were not sure you wanted to hear it. ‘Friends’ you might be, but if Ron started calling Lavender 'Lav- Lav', you would have to put your foot down.

'Why does that stop you having breakfast?' Harry asked, trying to inject a note of common sense into the proceedings.

'I don't think she knows I exist,' said Ron with a desperate gesture.

'She definitely knows you exist,' you said angrily. 'She keeps snogging you, doesn't she?'

Ron blinked.

'Who are you talking about?'

Who are you talking about?' said you and Harry together, with an increasing sense that all

reason had dropped out of the conversation.

'Romilda Vane,' said Ron softly, and his whole face seemed to illuminate as he said it, as though hit by a ray of purest sunlight. You stared at each other for almost a whole minute, before Harry said, 'This is a joke, right? You're joking.'

Think ... Harry, I think I love her,' said Ron in a strangled voice.

'OK,' you said, walking up to Ron to get a better look at the glazed eyes and the pallid complexion, 'OK ... say that again with a straight face.'

'I love her,' repeated Ron breathlessly. 'Have you seen her hair, it's all black and shiny and silky ... and her eyes? Her big dark eyes? And her -'

'This is really funny and everything,' said Harry impatiently, 'but joke's over, all right? Drop it.'

He turned to leave; he had got two steps towards the door when a crashing blow hit him on the right ear. Staggering, he looked round. Ron's fist was drawn right back, his face was contorted with rage; he was about to strike again.

  Harry reacted instinctively; his wand was out of his pocket and the incantation sprang to mind without conscious thought: Levicorpus!

Ron yelled as his heel was wrenched upwards once more; he dangled helplessly, upside-down, his robes hanging off him.

'What was that for?' you bellowed.

'He insulted her! He said it was a joke!' shouted Ron, who was slowly turning purple in the face as all the blood rushed to his head.

'This is insane!' said Harry. 'What's got into -?'

And then he saw the box lying open on Ron's bed and the truth hit him with the force of a stampeding troll.

'Where did you get those Chocolate Cauldrons?'

'They were a birthday present!' shouted Ron, revolving slowly in midair as he struggled to get free. ‘I offered you one, didn't I?'

'You just picked them up off the floor, didn't you?'

'They'd fallen off my bed, all right? Let me go!'

'They didn't fall off your bed, you prat, don't you understand? They were mine, I chucked them out of my trunk when I was looking for the map. They're the Chocolate Cauldrons Romilda gave me before Christmas and they're all spiked with love potion!'

You gave an outraged cry at this information.

But only one word of this seemed to have registered with Ron.

‘Romilda?' he repeated. 'Did you say Romilda? Harry - do you know her? Can you introduce me?'

Harry stared at the dangling Ron, whose face now looked tremendously hopeful, and fought a strong desire to laugh... Y/N thought that he would deserve another punching if he permitted Ron to declare undying love for Romilda Vane.

'Yeah, I'll introduce you,' said Harry, thinking fast. 'I'm going to let you down now, OK?'

He sent Ron crashing back to the floor (his ear did hurt quite a lot), but

Ron simply bounded to his feet again, grinning.

'She'll be in Slughorn's office.’ said Harry confidently, leading the way to the door.

'Why will she be in there?' asked Ron anxiously, hurrying to keep up.

'Oh, she has extra Potions lessons with him,' you said, inventing wildly.

'Maybe I could ask if I can have them with her?' said Ron eagerly.

'Great idea,' said Harry. Lavender was waiting beside the portrait hole, a complication both you and Harry had not foreseen.

  'You're late, Won-Won!' she pouted. 'I've got you a birth-day-'

'Leave me alone,' said Ron impatiently, 'Harry's going to introduce me to Romilda Vane.'

And without another word to her, he pushed his way out of the portrait hole. Harry tried to make an apologetic face to Lavender, but it might have turned out simply amused, because she looked more offended than ever as the Fat Lady swung shut behind them.

You had been slightly worried that Slughorn might be at breakfast, but he answered his office door at the first knock, wearing a green velvet dressing-gown and matching nightcap and looking rather bleary-eyed.

'Harry, Y/N.' he mumbled. 'This is very early for a call ... I generally sleep late on a Saturday ..."

'Professor, I'm really sorry to disturb you,' said Harry as quietly as possible, while Ron stood on tiptoe, attempting to see past Slughorn into his room, 'but my friend Ron's swallowed a love potion by mistake. You couldn't make him an antidote, could you? I'd take him to Madam Pomfrey, but we're not supposed to have anything from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and, you know ... awkward questions ...'

‘I’d have thought you could have whipped him up a remedy, Harry, an expert potioneer like you?' asked Slughorn.

'Er,' said Harry, somewhat distracted by the fact that Ron was now elbowing him in the ribs in an attempt to force his way into the room, and Y/N held him firmly back, 'well, I've never mixed an antidote for a love potion, sir, and by the time I get it right Ron might've done something serious -'

Helpfully, Ron chose this moment to moan, 'I can't see her. Harry - is he hiding her?'

'Was this potion within date?' asked Slughorn, now eyeing Ron with professional interest. 'They can strengthen, you know, the longer they're kept.'

That would explain a lot,' panted Harry, now positively wrestling with Ron to keep him from knocking Slughorn over.

'It's his birthday, Professor,' you added imploringly.

'Oh, all right, come in, then, come in,' said Slughorn, relenting. 'I've got the necessary here in my bag, it's not a difficult antidote ...'

Ron burst through the door into Slughorn's overheated, crowded study, tripped over a tasselled footstool, regained his balance by seizing Harry around the neck and muttered, 'She didn't see that, did she?'

'She's not here yet,' said Harry, watching Slughorn opening his potion kit and adding a few pinches of this and that to a small crystal bottle.

That's good,' said Ron fervently. 'How do I look?'

'Very handsome,' said Slughorn smoothly.

‘It can never be me, can it?’ you asked quietly so only Harry could hear, ‘Even when it’s a mistake...’

‘You have no idea.’ Harry whispered back, patting your hand slightly, handing Ron a glass of clear liquid. 'Now drink that up, it's a tonic for the nerves, keep you calm when she arrives, you know,'

'Brilliant,' said Ron eagerly, and he gulped the antidote down noisily.

Harry, you and Slughorn watched him. For a moment, Ron beamed at you. Then, very slowly, his grin sagged and vanished, to be replaced by an expression of utmost horror.

'Back to normal, then?' said Harry, grinning. Slughorn chuckled. Thanks a lot, Professor.'

'Don't mention it, m'boy, don't mention it,' said Slughorn, as Ron collapsed into a nearby armchair, looking devastated. 'Pick-me-up, that's what he needs,' Slughorn continued, now-bustling over to a table loaded with drinks. 'I've got Butter-beer, I've got wine, I've got one last bottle of this oak-matured mead ... hmm ... meant to give that to Dumbledore for Christmas ... ah well ...' he shrugged '... he can't miss what he's never had! Why don't we open it now and celebrate Mr Weasley's birthday? Nothing like a fine spirit to chase away the pangs of disappointed love ...'

He chortled again and you and Harry joined in.

There you are, then,' said Slughorn, handing Harry, Y/N and Ron a glass of mead each, before raising his own. 'Well, a very happy birthday, Ralph -'

'- Ron -' you whispered.

But Ron, who did not appear to be listening to the toast, had already thrown the mead into his mouth and swallowed it.

There was one second, hardly more than a heartbeat, in which Harry knew there was something terribly wrong and Slughorn, it seemed, did not. '- and may you have many more -

'Ron!' you yelled.

Ron had dropped his glass; he half-rose from his chair and then crumpled, his extremities jerking uncontrollably. Foam was dribbling from his mouth and his eyes were bulging from their sockets.

'Professor!' you bellowed. 'Do something!'

But Slughorn seemed paralysed by shock. Ron twitched and choked: his skin was turning blue.

'What - but -' spluttered Slughorn.

‘HARRY, THE STONE!’ you yelled, frightened at the spasming body in front of you.

Harry leapt over a low table and sprinted towards Slughorn's open potion kit, pulling out jars and pouches, while the terrible sound of Ron's gargling breath filled the room. Then he found it - the shrivelled kidney-like stone Slughorn had taken from him in Potions.

He hurtled back to Ron's side, wrenched open his jaw and thrust the bezoar into his mouth. Ron gave a great shudder; a rattling gasp and his body became limp and still.

-----------

“He’s alright, isn’t he?” you asked Madame Pomfrey for about the hundredth time.

“Yes dear, he’s fine,” she consolingly told you.

“Quick thinking on your part, Harry and Y/N. Using a bezoar.” Dumbledore informed you.

“I agree, Potter and L/N’s actions were heroic! Only, why were they necessary?” Professor McGonagall questioned.

As they moved onto a conversation about a plot, you moved Ron’s flaming red hair out of his face, gently stroking his arm. The thought of someone wanting to poison him was too gruesome.

“Where is he? Where is my Won-Won? Has he been asking for me?” a high-pitched voice suddenly asked as you groaned.

“You.” Lavender spat, “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” you angrily shot back.

“I happen to be his girlfriend!” Lavender said in a dignified voice.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, “I happen to be his... best friend!”

“Friend.” Lavender scoffed, “Don’t make me laugh. You haven’t spoken in weeks! I suppose you want to patch up with him now that he’s all... interesting!”

“Interesting?!” you shrilly cried, “He’s poisoned, you daft dimbo!”

Ron chose that moment to groan in his sleep, muttering to himself unconsciously.

“Ah.” Lavender said triumphantly, “See? He senses my presence.”

“Ugh.” Ron groaned, still sleeping, “Uhh.... Y/N... Y/N/N...”

Your eyes grew wide as Lavender stifled a sob, running out of the room.

The professors stared after her.

“Oh, to be young.” Professor Dumbledore sighed, “And to feel love’s keen sting. I think we ought to leave, Mr. Weasley is well tended to by Miss L/N.”

“About time.” Ginny whispered as she and Harry shared a smirk, sending heat to your cheeks.

“Oh, shut up.” You huffed, still blushing madly as you stroked Ron’s hand.

-----

Ron had been released from the hospital wing, and was once again seated in the common room with you, Harry and Hermione at late night. The room was deserted.

“I’m leaving, Crookshanks is probably hungry,” Hermione announced, getting up.

The silence was deafening.

“So,” Harry said in an obvious attempt to make conversation, though you could practically feel the smirk in his voice, “Aren’t you curious, Ron? About how we drove Lavender away?”

“Not really.” Ron shrugged, “As long as she’s gone, it’s fine by me.”

The truth was, Ron was very much aware of what had caused the girl to run away from the hospital wing a week ago.

“Right.” Harry was smirking worse than ever, “Y/N. Say, why have you been avoiding Ron for so long?”

“Hmm?” you squeaked. Seeing no possible way out of this, you sighed, “He was being a git.”

“Aren’t I always being a git to you?” Ron teased, causing you to roll your eyes.

“And say, Ron. Why have you been so keen to get rid of Lavender?” Harry asked again.

“She was annoying me.” Ron whined, “All she did was snog me. My lips got chapped! Look!”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Harry grimaced in disgust, “But that can’t be all, can it? Is there someone else? Or are you ready to shag whoever asks you first?”

“Excuse me?” Ron’s ears had turned scarlet, “Of course not! So, what if there was someone else?”

“You like someone?” you asked, trying to make the agony in your voice less obvious.

Ron, who noticed it anyway, felt a small glimmer of hope inside his body, “Uhm, yeah. I do.”

“And who might that be?” you struggled to keep your voice even; it was already two octaves higher than usual.

Taking a deep breath and considering that this could prove to be a disaster, Ron told the truth.

“You. I fancy you.”

“WHAT?” you asked, “Did I hear that right?!”

“I said I fancy you!” Ron yelled in embarrassment and pain, scared that you would burst out laughing.

“Oh,” you said thickly, “Oh, Ron! I... I fancy you too.”

“What?” it was Ron’s turn to ask, “Say that again?”

“I fancy you too.” You clarified, cheeks burning.

Ron leaned into the distance between you and you could feel his breath on your face. Gaze flickering to your lips, he ran his thumb over them before closing the distance between you.

The kiss started out sweet and loving, but soon turned angry and passionate as your lips collided multiple times.

“Um, guys?” Harry asked, reminding you that he was still there, “I got the point, you can stop now.”

Ignoring him, you and Ron continued.

[thefanficmonster]

Begone

Streamer Gang & Asexual Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Acephobia, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having recently come out as asexual, Y/N faces some less than pleasant or appropriate responses in their chat during their stream with the gang. Luckily, they’re not alone in battling the haters this time.

Requested by the lovely Anon who told acephobes to begone, yeah you know who you are hehe. Thank you so much for the request darling! Let’s show these acehobes who they’re messing with! Love, Vy ❤

Boy is this nerve-wrecking or what? Sure, I maybe woke up with a ton of confidence, I listened to motivational and uplifting talks and listened to mood boosting music. I had a healthy breakfast and a cup of coffee. Damn it, I went on a run, all in an attempt to convince myself that dealing with the online world again is but a piece of cake for a badass like me. Well, low and behold, that feeling didn’t last very long. Here I am, chewing my nails off at the though of hopping in the Discord call and Among Us lobby with my friends and starting my stream. It’s not like I’m not expecting my friends and fans to support me - of course I am! I know they’re gonna give me a ton of love and appreciation and support and uplift me no matter what. But then again, there’s still those people who believe me and other people like me to be invalid and broken and whatnot.

Those are the ones I wanna avoid. 

It’s not like their words mean much to me but I simply don’t wanna see em, you know? It’s not only about me - it’s least about me actually - it’s more about all those wonderful people they are insulting when they say shit like that about asexuals and all the people on the ace spectrum. I can’t help but flare up and get angry on the behalf of all my ace friends and even people I’ve never met.

It’s also my first time being directly thrown into the fire instead of getting caught in the crossfire seeing as how I came out to my fandom via a tweet and an Instagram post a week ago, telling my identity’s truth: finally bringing my asexuality to the surface to shine its brightest so I can be be my best and reach for my full potential.

But damn am I afraid to see how everyone took it. 

My friends were quick to jump in and take me offline before I start refreshing my own posts to see the comments under them. Lord knows that without them I would’ve driven myself insane, I’ll forever be grateful for what they did and the lengths they went to to keep me offline and whatnot. One word to give you an idea of how invested they were in this: origami. All of us might as well have been born with two left hands and yet we still tried doing origami. Freaking origami.

Damn do I love my friends.

But now I don’t have sheets of paper and my friends to distract me. I have a fanbase to entertain and another friend group I haven’t talked to in a while. I don’t wanna get any predictions in already so I don’t jinx myself, so I’m just gonna say it’s gonna be...interesting regardless of what happens.

Then again, when is it not interesting when the streamer gang’s involved.

Deep breaths, Y/N. You got this

Listening to that encouraging little voice inside my head, I finally equip my headphones and in one fluid motion turn my camera on, officially starting my stream and unmuting my mic as I hop in the call with everyone.

“Hi guys! Guess who’s returned!“ I exclaim cheerfully, desperate to hide the nervousness of my voice.

“You really missed your opportunity to say ‘guess who’s back...back again’ didn’t you?“ Charlie is the one who greets me first, sounding rather disappointed in me in his usual jokester manner. It’s nice to hear, it makes me feel like nothing’s changed in the week I’ve been gone. Like I’m still the same person to these people. I really am the same, I just now am a lot better version of myself. Almost as though I’ve reached my final form. It feels empowering really. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Charlie laughs again, “Congrats, by the way. You keep proving you can get cooler and cooler.“

“Careful there Charlie, I can only handle so large of an ego.“ I joke back, rolling my eyes playfully as a wide grin spreads across my face, “No, but seriously, thank you so much, man. It means the world to me that you support me.“

“Um, how could we NOT?“ That’s very clearly Rae, “Hun, you are so brave and amazing and wonderful, how could we ever NOT support you?“

“Yeah, we’ll always support you no matter what, Y/N. We’ll always be your friends, through thick, thin and beyond.“ Poki too interferes, her words only making my smile wider.

“Alright, alright, y’all are gonna make me cry and I haven’t even read my chat yet, hold on.“ I say, fanning my face to dry the tears I hope the webcam isn’t spotting, “Darn, you guys are the best. Sorry, give me a sec to gather my composure, I’ll be right back.“

I quickly mute my in-game mic as I turn to my chat where I see the same amount of love and support in the form of comments and emojis flooding in from my viewers. A warm feeling spreads throughout my chest, making me feel the most comfortable with myself I’ve ever felt. The most loved I’ve ever felt. The most seen and understood. To finally be you feels like you are finally really living in this world, not like you’ve been already living in it for God knows how long. It makes me so freaking happy and fulfilled to finally be living as me, as the real me.

Unfortunately, in life, nothing can be 100% pure and good. There’s always at least 1% there threatening to ruin all your happiness you worked so hard to build or obtain. It may be one in a hundred, but fuck it’s powerful and effective.

And in my case it comes in the form of two comments that stick out to my eyes. Acephobic comments saying my identity’s fake, claiming I’m faking it, saying us acephobes are immature creatures who refuse to grow up, or attention whores. Or just saying we’re delusional and in denial, confused about who we are.

I hadn’t even realized I was clenching my jaw and fists but when I do, I slowly relax my muscles and crack my knuckles before addressing the two people who spat out that nonsense.

“Ok, listen here, shooterpro69 and yourmom_lol. For starters, I want to apologize for your ignorance and lack of education on the matter of asexuality. In fact, for you especially, I plan on making an educational video, explaining asexuality to people who need or want to learn more. You, my friends, are in desperate need to be fed some knowledge cause damn, God knows how many people secretly think you’re hella stupid. Not that they’re wrong to think so but anyway. Unless you have anything nice or positive to say, begone from my chat. Actually, when I think about it, begone from every chat. No one needs you polluting their communities with acephobia and hate.“ I say, all spoken in a calm tone despite the boiling anger within me. People who know me well would probably be able to tell I’m fuming underneath the calm façade, but at least I got my message across loud and clear.

“WOO HOO, You tell em Y/N!“ Toast cheers, clapping his hands and whistling as more cheering arises from each my friends, leaving me in a state of mild shock and confusion.

Wait, what?!

“Um, wait, you guys heard that?“ I ask, my eyes darting to thein-game mic symbol that shows an not crossed-off mic, meaning it was enabled during the entirety of my speech.

“Hell yeah we did! You slayed them, Y/N! Damn goddamn!“ Rae whistles too, her enthusiasm wafting over me like a breath of fresh air.

“I second that!“ Corpse joins in, “And remember what we said - we’ll support you through anything. Need to bury an acephobe’s body, we’re the people you should call.” He says, confident as heck.

And I just can’t hold it in anymore - I burst out laughing, doubling over from the intensity.

If I thought I was happy and fulfilled before, this has to be the closest to paradise I’m gonna get on Earth.  All thanks to these wonderful people. Friends are really something else aren’t they: they come into your life - often unexpectedly - and change it completely. Suddenly you’re not alone, you’re not forced to deal with everything and face everything on your own. Someone’s got your back and you’ve got theirs.

Through thick, thin and beyond.

And it’s so fucking amazing.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari

[unrelenting-jazz-hands]

There's paperwork and everything, that's my weirdo.

They both think its a stupid idea at first. Big, fussy weddings are a waste of energy, time, and money. They don't need to make some big announcement about it, they already know they're committed to each other.

But then they realized they can put anything they want on the gift registry. There isn't a law that says it can only be shit from Bed, Bath & Beyond. It could be a new microscope, a year's worth of tea, or a non-flammable waffle iron.

Hange thinks of how it would be great time to make Levi dance and take cute pictures. Levi knows how happy a wedding would make his mom. He also sometimes thinks about how beautiful Hange would look with white flowers in her hair and how she would smile before he leans in to kiss her.

He kind of likes the idea of saying ‘that’s legally my weirdo.’

But they hum and hah over the idea, going back and forth between the pros and cons of the concept of marriage. Hange has made more than a few diagrams and slide shows. Levi nods during her presentations, taking notes. They both learn a lot about the history of the modern concept of marriage in their part of the world. Hange digs around to learn about marriage through the lenses of different fields. She likes to have the whole enchilada before making big decisions. As she puts it, you can't make sound decision before there's a whole lot of enchiladas cookin' in the kitchen.

There isn’t anything wrong with the idea of them getting married, but nothing ever gets decided.

Then one day, Levi is walking through downtown Sina, to pick something up for Kuchel, when he pauses at a window. There, on a plastic hand, is the first ring he has ever seen that might just be able to survive Hange. He goes inside and stands there, looking nervous and uncomfortable, until a sales assistant asks if he would like to look at something. He hopes he doesn't sound as unsure as he feels when he asks about the ring in the 3rd window.

The sales assistant nods and asks what he likes about it, he laughs and says it looks hard to break. She smiles and leads him to a table.

It's even prettier up close, he realizes, as he holds in between his fingers. Beautiful and sturdy, not unlike the person who's finger this ring would sit beautifully on.

Hange is messy, loud, and enthusiastic about everything; she can't enter a room without drawing attention or leave a room like she found it. But she is so kind, caring, and gentle (and patient, and funny, and brave, and brilliant). She sparkles all day and smolders during the night. He smiles to himself and imagines her waving happily at him with this ring on her finger.

xxx

He walks out of the store an hour or so later, hands a little clammy. Inside of his pocket there is a small maroon box and a stack of warranty papers. Inside the box there is a silver ring with small sparkling diamonds set flush into the band; nothing to get broken off or snagged on something. It has small indents along one side, where another ring will go, fitting together like a puzzle piece. They can choose the next band together and get a matching one for him. He stops mid-step in the middle of the street, looking more constipated than usual.

Fuck. He's going to ask Hange to marry him.

xxx

Hange looks beautiful that evening. Its a warm summer night and Levi had dinner ready for when she got home. Her favourite meal, drinks, and music were ready to go. He was wearing a nice pair of pants, and the third shirt of the day (he sweat through the other two). She gets home and he's at the door, drink in hand, to kiss her hello. She looks over his shoulder at the patio he spent hours setting up, her eyes widen and a small smile creeps onto her lips.

He's really sweating now.

He shoves the drink into her hand and directs her to the stairs, saying to go put something nice on. If he's going to do this whole thing than they better be able to get some good photos out of it.

He's pouring himself another pina colada (her favourite) when she walks into the kitchen. She's wearing one of her brightly-coloured jumpsuits that she breaks out every summer (this one is held up by straps that tie over her shoulders, and he's had a lot of fun untying them on various occasions).

Barefoot, hair down, and smiling brightly; she lights up even more when she sees the pina colada cups filled up to the brim (they bought them last summer and she insists it makes the drinks taste different).

xxx

Dinner went smoothly, he tells himself. She's chatting happily about work as they sit around the little patio table. Dinner was finished. Time for dessert. Shit. Shit, fucking shit.

He stands abruptly, which makes her pause and raise an eyebrow. He excuses himself, grumbling something about dessert, and rushes back to the kitchen.

Shit. Shit. Ok, its time. His hands are shaking as he takes the little box out of his pocket. He opens it one last time to check that the ring is still there, still in one piece, before placing it in the middle of a tray. It's surrounded with the assortment of pavlovas he spent a good portion of the afternoon baking (they're Hange's favourite). He carefully places a white bowl overtop of the box and then places another bowl, right-side up, on top. He fills it with blueberries, with a mint sprig on top. Beside it, a bowl of whipped cream and two spoons.

Alright. The plan:

1) Put the tray down.

2) When she goes to mix everything in one bowl (like she always does) ask her to pass you the other bowl.

3) She lifts up the bowl and then bam. There's the box.

4) You take the box, get down on one knee, and open the box.

5) "Will you marry me?"

He's run through this a hundred times. He can do it. This is going be fine. He looks outside at Hange, who is facing away from him, head tilted back to look at the sky. He gulps. Game time.

He walks outside, curses as he almost trips (his life flashes before his eyes), but makes it to the table in one piece.

He sets the tray down before taking a seat and proceeds to stare at his hands. She tilts her head to the side and asks if he's ok. You look unwell, are you feeling ok? What did you eat for lunch?

He waves his hand, stammers out an unconvincing excuse, and motions for her to help herself. Hange raises an eyebrow at him but then shrugs and turns her attention to the plate in front of her. She starts to mix everything and Levi's mind goes blank. He can hear her begin to chat in the background but he can't move his body.

He has found himself in some scary situations before, but this was the most terrified he's ever felt. He looks like it.

But before she has the time to ask if he's ok or reach over to place a gentle hand on his cheek, he blurts out that she's hogging the whipped cream and to pass him the bowl already.

No, not that bowl. The other bowl. No, the one under the blueberries.

She lifts the bowl, eyes glued to his face. She doesn't see it, she's still staring at him. His mouth is open, he's staring at her, and he feels like the world's stupidest piece of shit. He shuts his mouth, and clears his throat. She looks at him like he's losing it, and maybe he is.

Fuck. She's looking down now. She's looking down at the tray. Fuck she sees the box. Oh shit, she sees the box.

He stands up, almost tripping over his feet, and grabs the box a little more aggressively than he planned.

For a minute he's just standing there, holding the box. But then she looks at him with those damned brown eyes; they're wide and sparkling... but there is a hint of fear there too.

She looks nervous, he thinks to himself. She hasn't been practicing for this all week and she doesn't know what's going to happen. Neither of you know what's going to happen tomorrow, or in the next year, or in the next 50 years. But... facing the next 50 years with this brave, fierce, kind, loyal, clever, funny, beautiful person would be the best thing Levi could think of.

He feels himself relax and smile softly. He kisses her forehead before kneeling down. He wonders if she can hear his heart beating loudly, and she wonders if he can hear hers.

Now he's down on one knee. Levi looks up at the person he loves most, the person who makes the sun warm and the sky blue. This is the person that helps ground him when his brain gets stuck in a painful loop about some stain or imaginary dust, that tells him when he needs to apologize, laughs at his stupid jokes, lights up his life, and holds him tightly when he wakes up from a nightmare.

He wants to always help her do her laundry, remind her to eat and sleep when she gets too caught up in work, he wants to celebrate with her when she gets a grant or a tenure position at a university, to smile and tell her that her burnt cupcakes and muffins aren't that bad. He's lucky to have her and he'll never stop trying to be a man worthy of her.

They have the rest of their lives to be together; to laugh at stupid jokes, plant vegetables in their little garden, get stoned and eat everything in sight, go for long hikes in the woods, watch shitty horror movies, and hold each other close. There isn't anything in the world he wants than to hold her and kiss her and love her. Fuck, he even wants to dance with her.

He can't believe he hasn't done this sooner.

No, those are not tears in his eyes.

His eyes are locked on hers as he opens that stupid little box.

"Will you marry me?"

[sansacherie]

First Kiss

I.

The Third Month of The Year 298

“You look lovely, Rhaenys.” Aegon smiles at her as Rhaenys enters the Hall of Lamps, accompanied by her three bridesmaids and their escort of guards.

“Only lovely?” Rhaenys wrinkles her nose. “You disappoint me terribly, Aegon. You should not describe a bride as anything less than exquisite. At least, that is what my bridesmaids tell me.”

Arianne winks at her while Sansa and Daenerys giggle. In the Faith, it is often the custom for a bride such as Rhaenys to choose three bridesmaids to honour three of the seven gods- the Maiden who bring bless the marriage with lasting love, the Mother with children, and the Crone with wisdom to survive the years together. Rhaenys had agonized over who to pick among her ladies, not wanting to cause hurt, but thankfully her mother had guided her into selecting Arianne, Daenerys, and Sansa. No one can fault her for choosing family, or soon to be family in Sansa’s case, Elia reasoned.

“Your sister is playing with you, Your Grace.” Arianne drawled. He does. Aegon laughs and offers Rhaenys his arms, before lowering his voice. “You look beautiful as always, Nee-Nee. I suppose I’m just used to it.” Rhaenys smiles sadly at this resurrection of his babyhood nickname for her.

Rhaenys does feel beautiful, however. Of course, although she is not vain enough to deem herself the Maiden’s rival, she also does not find any value in lying to herself when she sees her reflection.

But this is different. The dressmakers have done well, truly. Rhaenys’ gown is a glory, a creation of red silk with long flowing sleeves that felt inviting as sin when she was helped into it earlier. Her bodice glimmers with golden thread. Resting on her black curls is a golden diadem with red rubies and an inscription in Rhoynese at the bottom.

On her wedding cloak, is a dragon whose open mouth reveals no crackling flames but instead a large golden sun that overwhelms the creature in size. The other dress that Rhaenys will change into for today is also just as beautiful, with Sansa gasping in delight upon seeing it. Although it is not demanded, it is not unusual for a bride to wear a gown favouring her new husband’s colours at their reception as if their vows were not enough to demonstrate that she was now his. But Rhaenys has no wish to offend her river lord or make him feel uncertain, so her gown is silver satin and sleeves consisting of myrish lace. Adorning the outfit is a belt made of deep red velvet with blue sapphires.

Aegon signals that they are ready, and from inside the sept proper music begins to play. Arianne lifts up Rhaenys’ cloak from the ground, while Sansa and Daenerys pick up the hems of the gown; the former looking painfully excited while Dany almost looks as nervous as Rhaenys feels.

Arianne nods at her and proudly smiles at Rhaenys in the way that Aegon did, and Rhaenys wills herself to breathe.

As a princess born, her entire life was the realm’s, shaped and nurtured with it in mind. It was the offering demanded for her birth and rank being predetermined by the Seven. It was a truth familiar to Rhaenys as a favoured story might be for a child who delights still in its thousand telling.

However, unlike that small child, Rhaenys could never be allowed to want other stories. Rhaenys is not friendless in this either, she remembers.

Her life belonged to the seven kingdoms, and so it appeared, did her first kiss.

Their kiss does not make Rhaenys forget to stand, or forget the crowd that had gathered in the royal sept to witness Lord Edmure Tully take her for his lady wife.

The number of guests is not as many as the wedding of Aegon to Lady- Queen Cassandra Baratheon, but Rhaenys’ wedding is still the first of a blood princess since that of her paternal grandmother forty years ago. Their noses bump, and his beard tickles Rhaenys chin. Nobody dares laugh to break the spell of the solemnity of the occasion, but Edmure reddens all the same.

When they turn to face the cheering crowd, Rhaenys cannot squeeze his hand- there will be a hundred times during the wedding there will be time for contact, but she gives him a bright smile, to put him at ease. “My lord, I must confess. You’ve rather exceeded the expectations of a maiden’s first kiss.”

Edmure’s eyes widen, then his generous mouth curves into a boyish grin. There is a kindness in it, and Rhaenys’ heart twists suddenly. Did her father smile at her mother on their wedding day? Despite the betrayals that he rained down on her, did he at least do that?

There is no way of knowing. Rhaenys cannot ask her father this, or a thousand other questions since she was old enough to understand how the crown prince almost brought them all to ruin. She does not want to dig up the past for her mother, who now basked in the warm present; with her adoring husband. Elia Martell paid Rhaegar Targaryen little attention in death, just as he paid her little respect and dignity in life.

II.

The Third Month of The Year

Two weeks pass before they enjoy their first misunderstanding.

“Have I done something to upset you?” Edmure asks her, in Rhaenys’ bedchamber.  They have been given adjoining rooms here in the castle.  They will not leave the Red Keep until the end of the month.  Rhaenys is glad of it.  She is not afraid to leave, but she is not necessarily anxious to either.

Rhaenys shakes her head, her sketchbook lying forgotten in her lap.  “Of course not, my lord.”

Edmure frowns.  “In public, whenever I try to kiss you, or take your hand- it’s almost as if I am some stranger and not your husband.  You look uncomfortable.”

Rhaenys feels a flush of shame. She’d not meant to sail down this river.  However, she smiles at him.  “Give me your trust in this, Edmure.”  Edmure’s eyes widen.  Until now Rhaenys has called him Lord Edmure or my lord, while he has alternated between Princess Rhaenys or my lady, or my princess, for Rhaenys will be a princess long after she is Lady of Riverrun.  “If you were a stranger kissing the king’s sister, you would know it.”

“That still does not answer my question.”  It is almost an accusation.

That still does not answer my question.”

Rhaenys sighs.  She must be truthful with him. “It is not because of you, I promise.  It is because of me, and well- Lord Tywin.”

“Lord Tywin?” Edmure echoes her, like the sound of the ocean in one of the seashells that could be found along the beach of Dragonstone.  Then he looks a little ill.  “You mean to tell me that you love Tywin Lannister?” Edmure splutters.

Rhaenys cannot help but laugh; the notion is so ridiculous.   Love is wasted on a man like that.

“No, my lord.”  Rhaenys says gently. “It is because I cannot forget who I am, and who Tywin is.  Or Mace Tyrell. You know the line of succession to the Crown, I trust.  I am my brother’s heir, after any children he might have.  My sons will inherit first over any sons that Viserys might give his Cersei.  May the Seven permit that we have a future where Aegon lives long and has many children.  I want that for him.  But you and I are not foolish to think that Tywin is equally satisfied.

So, I have always been- careful. Careful with my behaviour, with how I am perceived.  I told you that you were my first kiss. I- I had no wish to give Tywin palace gossip that he could use to his advantage.”

Edmure crinkles his forehead.  “Surely nobody would think badly of a child for having kissing games.  Cat and Lysa-,”

Rhaenys now tosses her sketchbook aside. “Forgive me my lord, but your sisters’ experience cannot be compared to mine.  Their mother is not Dornish.”

Edmure looks lost.  “What has that got to do with this?”

“Everything.”  Rhaenys hisses, standing up now.

“People will take innocent kisses and think it proof of a Dornish woman’s wanton ways, as if there isn’t plenty in the Reach or Westerlands who were no maidens when they were married! Or men who have a dozen mistresses!  I know the rumours of Ashara Dayne, my mother’s lost friend.  Everyone assumes that Ashara slept with Brandon Stark, but she never did! She was younger than me when she died, and yet people simply assume that she gave him anything more than a smile.  And Dany-,” Rhaenys wipes away her tears.  “We were only children at the time. I don’t think Dany was any older than five.       We were calling each other stupid things as children do, and my mother had entered the room when Dany called me a Dornish slut.  To this day, I still don’t know where the hell she got that from.   And the look on my mother’s face-,” Rhaenys stares at the floor.  “My darling grandfather called her that, a few times.”

“So, because of this, I have always been careful. My mother has taught me so.  Since I was a maiden flowered, being alone is not something I am used to.  There has always been either my family or my ladies or my guards.  I will not let myself be vulnerable to any rumours that would paint me unsuitable to be a queen; rumours that the lion and rose will try to use for their own ends.”   Rhaenys is surprised by the vehemence in her voice.

She takes a deep breath, before continuing. “Secondly, it is just my nature. I appreciate that you are my husband, but I have never been comfortable with physical affection in public, specifically hugs and kisses.  I endure it for proprietary’s sake.  If truth be told, I am not entirely fond of being embraced.”

Edmure’s forehead creases.  “Even your own kin?”

“No, that’s different.”  Rhaenys corrects him.  “My family is close to me.  My ladies are close to me, so I obviously did not mind when we slept in the same bed, our legs tangled together like branches or held their hands as we danced or played games.   And you and I will become close too, I hope.”  She adds, shyly.

Edmure nods.  “Thank you Rhaenys, for telling me this. I will keep that in mind.”  Rhaenys’ smiles at the use of her name.

He grins.  “Speaking of kisses has made me want to kiss you still, however.   So – may I kiss you?” He asks tentatively. His voice makes Rhaenys remember their wedding night, and how he asked her the same thing in the dark.  Their first coupling was well- it was nice, she supposes.  She does not have anything to score it by.  Still afterwards, she had slipped a hand between her legs, for there was nothing in scripture that forbade such things.  

But a kiss is different.  She nods, and Edmure gingerly brushes a curl from her face. “I hope we have a girl with hair like yours.”

His kiss is long and sweet; as sweet as the smell of rain after a month’s drought.

III.

The Sixth Month of The Year 298

“Rhaenys?”

Edmure’s worried face is illuminated in the candlelight, as he sits down on the bed beside her.  Rhaenys is clutching her knees, her eyes downcast.

They have not yet reached Riverrun, thanks to the river lords who insisted on guesting them for a few days.   Stars have risen in the sky for the third time here at Stone Hedge.   No doubt the Brackens insisted on the third night to beat the Blackwood’s two.  “By the time you do reach Riverrun, you’ll need a new wardrobe.”  Desmera Redwyne had predicted, giggling.

There had been no giggling when Desmera had gone to fetch Edmure after Rhaenys had bolted up in bed, tears streaming down her face.

“Desmera need not have woken you.”  Rhaenys mumbled.

“I’m not sorry she did.”  Edmure counters.   “My lady, you are trembling.”

Rhaenys fiddled with the end of her braid.  “It was a bad dream, that’s all.”

For a heartbeat, silence rested between them.  Then, Edmure spoke.  “When I was a boy, my sister Catelyn once told me that you always feel better after talking about a bad dream.”

Well, what has she got to lose then?  He will not leave her.  “It’s a dream I’ve had before.”  She confesses softly.  “I’ve had it on and off since I was twelve or thirteen.  In it, I’m trying to get away.  But I can never far enough.  They-They never change how they kill me.  With a knife.”

Edmure sucks in his breath.  “Rhaenys-,”

Rhaenys bites her lip.   “And the strange thing is, I’m never the age that I am.  In it, I wasn’t eight-and-ten.  Instead, I’m a little girl.  I might be four, I think.”   Tears well in her eyes.  “Tell me, what chance does a girl of four have against a man who wants to kill her?”

“Very little, I would judge.” Edmure softly replies.  “I’m sorry.  Maybe I shouldn’t have pressed you to tell me.”

“No.” Rhaenys corrects him.  “Don’t be sorry.  I-I do feel a little better now, as you predicted.”  It is not a lie.   She has never spoken about the dream to anyone else, before.  

It feels freeing.

She turns and wraps her arms around Edmure, kissing him.  This kiss feels different somehow.  It is not as though she hasn’t been vulnerable with Lord Edmure before.  She gave her maidenhood to him.  She will feel a little vulnerable in Riverrun she thinks, until she can gain the respect of Edmure’s household.

But this kiss – it is a comfort.  Of course, Rhaenys has been comforted before.  But the solace of a mother or brother is different from that of a husband.  This- the feeling of his lips against hers- is like being told a secret.  But it’s not a secret designed to hurt.  It’s not one where the longer it is kept hidden from the open, the worse the fallout is.  

Instead, it is like being given something small, fragile.  That is a precious thing, Rhaenys concludes.  It is a precious thing to be given such trust.

IV.

The Eighth Month of the Year 298

“I’ve had a thought,”  Edmure says, as Rhaenys massages his aching shoulders; courtesy of his sparring session.

Rhaenys had enjoyed watching that, very much.

“Oh?”  Rhaenys smirks.  Removing her hands from his shoulders, she cocks her head at him.  “Is that unusual for you, my lord?”

To her husband’s credit, he only grins at her.  Other men like Stannis Baratheon or Tywin Lannister were not so kind to such silly little japes.  

“I was thinking that perhaps we could write to some of our vassals’ families and ask for some girls.  For you, I mean.  I know you’ve brought some from Kingslanding.  But the Riverlands can’t be their home forever, while you- I think it would be good for you.  Not that I don’t think you’re not doing well in your duties so far.”  He adds quickly.

Rhaenys smiles warmly.  “That is a wonderful idea.  We should ask Maester Vyman for his counsel on who to choose.  Three seems a good number, I feel. In time, perhaps we can ask for some wards.  Companions for any younger sons or daughters we may have."

Edmure answers her with a kiss to the neck.   Rhaenys gasps. He has never kissed her there before.   Always on the lips or cheek.

She loves it.

“I hope we have a girl with hair like yours, my lady.”

Somehow, she knows that it will not be a wasteful thing to hope in this marriage.

[agentrouka-blog]

When Jon think about wanting winterfell and it's Lord he felt hunger which he later connect with ghost's hunger. Do you think that passage is implying something?

Hi anon!

I think the passage has many layers when it comes to symbolism and foreshadowing.

ASOS, Jon XII is a fun chapter. Jon’s been through a lot. His trip North of the wall left him traumatized and disillusioned in a way that’s hard to sum up. Anything he had hoped to be proud of in life was obliterated, he suffered serious injury, has been separated from ghost, learned that all his family are dead or missing, fought a viciously cruel battle, feels responsible for the death of his stockholm-syndromy abuser, was stripped of all respect and honor by his superiors, and he got to see a woman die in childbirth. Now Stannis and Mel are squatting at Castle Black, and the threat to the North keeps looming.

Life sucks. 

We’d been introduced to some options that were denied to him in life:

His lord father had once talked about raising new lords and settling them in the abandoned holdfasts as a shield against wildlings. The plan would have required the Watch to yield back a large part of the Gift, but his uncle Benjen believed the Lord Commander could be won around, so long as the new lordlings paid taxes to Castle Black rather than Winterfell. "It is a dream for spring, though," Lord Eddard had said. "Even the promise of land will not lure men north with a winter coming on."

If winter had come and gone more quickly and spring had followed in its turn, I might have been chosen to hold one of these towers in my father's name. Lord Eddard was dead, however, his brother Benjen lost; the shield they dreamt together would never be forged. (ASOS, Jon V)

or

“If the boy shows any skill with sword or lance, he should have a place with your father’s household guard at the least,” Jon said. “It’s not unknown for bastards to be trained as squires and raised to knighthood. But you’d best be sure Gilly can play this game convincingly. From what you’ve told me of Lord Randyll, I doubt he would take kindly to being deceived.” (ASOS, Samwell IV)

One fails because of the seasons, the other was prevented by Catelyn. The Watch has been a soul-destroying nightmare, Ygritte’s offer of taking over a Tower “after” is not even worth a moment’s consideration to him. Every hope he ever had about his life has been disappointed. 

Jon’s just about sixteen and is completely done. Sam notes how much time Jon spends in the training yard, even though he’s injured and off-duty for the title of turncloak. He does not bother voting in the Lord Commander election. A maligned outcast again. Forever. 

The warg, I’ve heard them call me. How can I be a warg without a wolf, I ask you?” His mouth twisted. “I don’t even dream of Ghost anymore. All my dreams are of the crypts, of the stone kings on their thrones. Sometimes I hear Robb’s voice, and my father’s, as if they were at a feast. But there’s a wall between us, and I know that no place has been set for me.” (ASOS, Samwell IV

He is lonely. Even Ghost is gone, his one proof that he belongs to something.

Stannis alienates Jon by talking ill of Robb, but he offers Jon recognition for the things he did right, a rare thing, and then he offers him legitimization. Basically, “You proved your worth and you have the Right blood. All you ever wanted can be yours. For the small price of breaking your oaths for real and of your own volition and forsaking your gods.” Downright mephistophelian.

Jon is torn, can’t sleep, fights. For the first time he has a real choice. He remembers the traumatic incident where his bastardy became a true concept to him.

That morning he called it first. “I’m Lord of Winterfell!” he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, “You can’t be Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born. My lady mother says you can’t ever be the Lord of Winterfell.”

I thought I had forgotten that. Jon could taste blood in his mouth, from the blow he’d taken. (ASOS, Jon XII)

And Jon’s response is a near black-out rage against his sparring partner. All his suppressed feelings of grief and anger and longing and loneliness are just broiling inside him.

Why am I so angry? he asked himself, but it was a stupid question. Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father’s heir.

Jon soaks in the hot tub and thinks of Winterfell, mulls restoring it versus not belonging and destroying its soul in the process

When Jon closed his eyes he saw the heart tree, with its pale limbs, red leaves, and solemn face. The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said … but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman’s hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods

The tree is almost described like a person. A person with Tully coloring, like all his siblings save Arya. Like Sansa. The hot springs in Winterfell have a potential link to his decision to join the Watch, or at the very least to his siblings in general. The castle of Winterfell is juxtaposed with the heart, with the purpose and point of it all. Save a structure by destroying what made it a meaningful place? Betray his family in his heart, the person whose castle is truly is, betray all his values and his gods?

He takes a walk past sites of all his recent experiences and North the Wall over the recent battle field and just sits to think. 

Ygritte wanted me to be a wildling. Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? The sun crept down the sky to dip behind the Wall where it curved through the western hills. Jon watched as that towering expanse of ice took on the reds and pinks of sunset. 

There’s an essay I could write about walls, Tyrion, Jon and Sansa (the sun to Arya’s moon) and how they all interact in the books, but let’s say just like this word play, the fact that Jon answers his own question is not an accident:

"Close your beak, crow. Spin yourself around, might be you'd find who you're looking for."

Jon turned.

The singer rose to his feet. (ASOS, Jon I)

The singer rose. Lyanna, his mother, the riddle. But also Sansa, who unwittingly took up her mantle. One unlocks his path to the other and everything that follows in his imagination:

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister’s son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly’s boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger … he could feel it. It was food he needed, prey, a red deer that stank of fear or a great elk proud and defiant. He needed to kill and fill his belly with fresh meat and hot dark blood. His mouth began to water with the thought.

Jon paints a picture of recreating his own childhood with his wolf pack at Winterfell, only this time there are no outcasts, and he is the Father. He gets to be Ned. The Lord of Winterfell with a lady’s love. And a son, something he had, apparently, dreamed of until he stoppped. 

He has always wanted this thing that he has no right to and it filled him with a guilt strong enough to concern the gods. But he admits it to himself, lets himself truly feel it. The feeling flows through him the same way the rage did earlier. powerful and all encompassing. 

Like a dragonglass blade. There we have some lovely foreshadowing for a) potentiall the origin of the Others, b) Jon’s paternity, and c) his own death when his desire to abandon his vows and head to Winterfell is met with, you know, some blades. Not to mention d) his desire to have these things.

Each of these is answered by his primal hunger response. Which is of course, his connection to Ghost. The wolf he has so woefully said goodbye to, that he missed deeply and bitterly, chooses this moment to reappear. This moment where Jon returns to his own feelings, his true self.

a) the answer to the Others are the direwolves, the Starks, their magical connection to Winterfell and what happened way back when.

b) the answer to Jon’s paternity is a violent embrace of his mother’s side.

c) the answer to his own stabbing will be warging into Ghost and biding his time in there, becoming more wolf than he ever anticipated.

d) the answer to his heart’s desire...

It was a long moment before he understood what was happening. When he did, he bolted to his feet. “Ghost?” He turned toward the wood, and there he came, padding silently out of the green dusk, the breath coming warm and white from his open jaws. “Ghost!” he shouted, and the direwolf broke into a run. He was leaner than he had been, but bigger as well, and the only sound he made was the soft crunch of dead leaves beneath his paws. When he reached Jon he leapt, and they wrestled amidst brown grass and long shadows as the stars came out above them. “Gods, wolf, where have you been?” Jon said when Ghost stopped worrying at his forearm. “I thought you’d died on me, like Robb and Ygritte and all the rest. I’ve had no sense of you, not since I climbed the Wall, not even in dreams.” The direwolf had no answer, but he licked Jon’s face with a tongue like a wet rasp, and his eyes caught the last light and shone like two great red suns.

Red suns. Arya’s wolf has golden coins (haggling for death, faceless men coins, spinning fates), Grey Wind has molten gold (like a crown that kills you). 

Jon’s wolf has red suns. Like the colors that the sun painted on the Wall. The direwolf in heart tree colors, inverted bastard colors of house Stark, Tully colors, Sansa colors. 

Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they’d found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then.

Not the red gods, not fire. The old gods. the heart tree, the wolves. He may be a Snow, but the old gods gave him Ghost. His own wolf. His white wolf. His place was made by their will. 

There is honor in that choice. No matter what anyone else says, Jon knows who he is and he has that power: to reject betraying his heart. 

How does this choice led by Ghost fit the layers?

a) The answer to the Others: don’t steal, don’t trick. Be honest. Accept what was painful. Not the Wall matters, the answer is in the heart tree.

b) The Dragon father does not Need to guide his decisions. He can let that go. He is a Snow.

c) Being in Ghost will lead him back to himself. Not fire, not Melisandre. The old gods.

d) Well... What does Jon want? What IS his answer?

Jon is filled with sudden energy. He strides back, rejects Val in his mind, stalks dramatically into the dining hall and is suddenly voted Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. We close on this:

So Jon Snow took the wineskin from his hand and had a swallow. But only one. The Wall was his, the night was dark, and he had a king to face.

Jon’s answer? We never hear it in this chapter. 

We hear it in ADWD, Jon I:

"By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa." 

And ADWD, Jon IV:

Jon said, "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa." 

The chapter is followed by? Sansa. Rebuilding Winterfell out of snow. 

When Jon lets go of pretense, honestly asks himself what he wants, shame or not, his wolf takes over and helps him find the answer and the path. The answer is not in taking the Castle and creating a mimicry of what it was, it is in honoring what it truly was and truly means. The heart over the structure. 

And in giving supremacy to the heart, to the red-white heart, he unknowingly paves the way for his own place: Winterfell built of Snow. He doesn’t have to steal the castle, he will be invited to belong.

That’s my own humble interpretation, anyway.

[babycracker]

Fire Meet Gasoline: Chapter 6

chapter rating: teen & up story rating: explicit pairing: morgan/m!oc (tanner drake) & farah/f!oc (sadie kennedy) word count: ~2.7k chapter warnings: none story warnings: eventual smut, canon-typical violence, au - canon divergent a/n: as you can see, pairings have changed and i've added some warnings for the future bc this entire story has taken an unexpected turn and it's going to be much bigger than manner now. please don't hesitate to let me know if you wanna be taken off of the tags!

read it on ao3 here

--

Sadie was sure that she'd have more time than this. Six months isn't long, after all. Well, technically four months. She's been basically on the run for the last two.

She'd had four months to enjoy being twenty-one before the Agency had contacted her about signing the treaty, and for the two months since not so politely telling them to shove it she'd been dodging the bounty hunter that she'd evidently been assigned to.

He was an idiot. A troll, she was sure of it. Big and imposing and clumsy and menacing… but stupid. She hasn't seen him in a few weeks though, and she's starting to relax, fairly sure that she's lost him.

So, for the first time in the week and a half that she's been in this city she's daring to leave her room at the hostel and check out some of what could well be her new home. She pulls her hoodie on, reluctantly pulling the hood over her head and eyeing the bland grey of the fabric with disdain for a moment. Dreadfully boring, and dreadfully cliché - a banshee roaming around donning a grey hood - but she still needs to keep a low profile. Just for a little bit longer.

Everyone's heard about the supernatural bar in the city, such things are not exactly common, though no one seems to know where it is. It would seem the only way to find out is by word of mouth, and unfortunately she doesn't know anyone here, and she can't exactly go up to random people and ask them where the local supernaturals hang.

It would really be preferable; at just over 4'3 she doesn't exactly fit in with humans, but she supposes she'll just have to make do as she heads down the street. She sticks cautiously close to the buildings, avoiding the laughing groups of people and curiously looking around at the bright and colourful nightlife.

She could get used to this.

But for now, she resigns herself to something less flashy, a not quite as cheerful and slightly shabby bar with a bright green neon sign shining from its façade reading Shakers.

Looks good enough for now, so she steps inside, a grin spreading across her face as she takes in the atmosphere. God she's missed being around humans, and this place is packed with some of the rowdiest ones she's ever seen. Her favourite kind.

There's no dancing space as far as she can see (disappointing) but the bar is huge and there are booths lining every wall, the space in the middle filled with several pool tables.

She weaves her way through the crowd, thankfully remaining largely unnoticed, and slips up onto a stool at the bar, breathing out a sigh of relief now that her height is less obvious. She spins around on her seat, leaning one elbow on the bar and watching a group of guys at the closest pool table, trying (unsuccessfully) to gather some kind of hint at how to play the game, when a voice from behind distracts her.

"What are you drinking, pretty?"

She turns, expecting to find a bartender but instead there's a man on her side of the bar and uncomfortably close, a charming and yet slightly unsettling smile on his face. She forces one to her own to keep her frown away, the eerie sense of this guy being bad news creeping through her mind and making her thoughts slightly foggy.

“I’m really not much of a drinker, thanks anyway.”

He’s good looking enough, blonde hair, bright blue eyes and dimples in both cheeks on proud display as he grins at her. But her advanced senses are ringing every bell inside of her, warning her not to trust him.

“C’mon darl, no one comes to a bar unless they want a drink,” he presses, reaching out and letting his fingertips brush against the sliver of bare wrist peeking out from the sleeve of her hoodie.

She gasps and recoils too fast to be able to reign it in, her face twisting into a frown as she pulls her sleeves down and clutches them in her fists to cover her hands entirely. She really should've worn her gloves.

Demon.

He lifts both hands in front of him, a kind of peace offering, and takes a slight step back. “Woah, take it easy. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“It’s fine,” she clears her throat, hoping it’ll take the obvious rasp out of her voice as she struggles to get any words out at all. He grins and slides onto the stool next to her.

“If I promise not to touch you again, will you come and join us?”

She eyes him carefully for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and giving a small nod. He seems nice enough, respectful enough. And she’s never been given any kind of guarantee that her perception is always one hundred percent accurate. Maybe she gets it wrong sometimes. Maybe she’s been disregarding people her entire life based on what she sees of them on the inside, and some of them didn’t deserve disregarding.

She’s been on her own since she ran away from home after her parents’ relentless persistence that she signed the Agency’s treaty became too much, she could do with some friends. Maybe now she can’t afford to turn down every single person that gives her a slight dishonest vibe. Who is completely honest these days anyway?

He grins again and gets to his feet, nodding towards one of the pool tables as a gesture for her to follow him. “I’m Axle.”

“Sadie,” she replies, reluctantly slipping off her seat and noticing the way he immediately arches an eyebrow at her height. He’s a demon, a supernatural, he’s probably already worked out that she’s not human and she just about winces as she waits for the inevitable questions.

They don’t come, however. He’s either much more polite than she’d expected, naïve and just thinks that she’s short, or he’s already worked out what she is and is choosing to stay quiet about it in this public space.

She follows him over to the pool table where a group of five other men are standing around playing a game, and a brief wave of panic surges through her when she realises that they’re probably all demons. They usually hang out with their own kind, and it would mean that she’s heavily outnumbered by a group of supernaturals far more dangerous and powerful than she is.

They barely spare her a glance though as she comes to stand at Axle’s side, and he barely offers an introduction in turn, instead waving his arm around the group and simply referring to them as “the guys”.

It’s probably for the best. She can handle one demon, should the need arise, she can slink away from him unnoticed, but once she has the attention of an entire group of them she’s not exactly sure how she’d get away if she needed to.

--

For someone that doesn’t talk a whole lot, Morgan sure spends a lot of time on the phone. Tanner hadn’t expected her to be so… clingy. She seems to really miss the rest of Unit Bravo now that she’s stuck away from them, which seems strange to him given that he’d assumed she wasn’t so different from him and would enjoy the break and getting to do her own thing (apart from having to work with him, of course) for a while.

But she’s on the phone again. Granted, she’s talking to Adam about their mission, but still. The number of questions she’d had about what they were supposed to do had been alarming to Tanner until he’d realised that she was most likely just coming up with the need for so much clarification as an excuse to speak to someone from her team.

Whatever her reasons though, he’s bored. He gets bored quite often with her, he realises, and he finds himself watching her on the other side of the room from where he’s kicked back on the couch, obviously and shamelessly checking her out as she paces and speaks in a hushed voice into the phone. Maybe it’d be different if he worked with her a little more; in regard to both her flirtation and their current job. At first, it’d been fun to irk her and get on her nerves but it’s already starting to get old - even for him - and he decides that maybe he should make more of an effort to be agreeable if they’re going to be stuck together for now. Or he could at least sleep with her. That might relieve some of her tension and get her to stop being such a hardass, at least.

She runs a hand through her hair and turns to face him, scowling when she notices his attention and lifting her middle finger at him before turning away.

He grins and sits up straight when she finally ends the call and turns to face him again.

“They want us to go to that bar tonight,” she tells him before he has a chance to say anything, and he groans dramatically and slides down to a slouching position, throwing his head back against the back of the couch and closing his eyes.

“It’s all work with you,” he complains, opening his eyes again when he hears her moving and watching her cross the room and start to pull her jacket on.

“We are on a job at the moment, so yeah, it’s all work.”

“You know this place isn’t gonna be like Mickey’s, right?”

She pulls a face, only small and only for the briefest second but he catches it anyway and for the first time sees how uncertain she is about having to be in that kind of environment.

“You gonna be good?” he adds, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic.

It actually surprises him how much he cares about how much this is going to affect her, and not just for the job. It’s going to be a pain in the ass, definitely. Having to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s not overwhelmed while trying to do his job at the same time, but more than that, whenever he thinks about how painful this is going to be for Morgan his stomach twists slightly, churning uncomfortably and making him feel… he doesn’t even know. Worried? Is this what worry for somebody else is?

Probably not. He’s probably just dreading having to babysit her.

--

He can already practically hear her teeth grinding by the time they get to the door of Shakers, let alone inside. They can hear (to be fair, godawful) rock music as well as the noise of what sounds like a pretty big crowd through the door, and he casts a glance in her direction. Her jaw’s clenched, brow furrowed, and eyes narrowed as she stares at the door before turning to the side and meeting his gaze.

“What? We going in or not?” she snaps, and he shrugs and waves a hand at her, gesturing to her general demeanour.

“I dunno, are we?”

She rolls her eyes and steps away from him, but he sees her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath before pushing the door open.

It’s loud. Really loud. Not too bright at least, but even he immediately catches the faint scent of alcohol, cigarettes and weed in the air. He can only imagine how strong it is to her.

His concerns for her are quickly overshadowed though when it takes less than a minute for his eyes to land on a group of men playing pool near the back of the room. He recognises them straight away, which means that they’re going to recognise him straight away and they’ll be gone before he and Morgan have gotten anywhere near them.

“Shit,” he mutters, ducking his head and turning to face Morgan more so as to turn himself away from them.

“What?” she snaps, glaring at him and not seeming to realise that something’s gone wrong, too caught up in trying to distract herself from the sensations bombarding her.

“I know them,” he answers distractedly, looking her up and down for a moment before casting a quick glance around the room in search of somewhere quieter. Something that doesn’t seem to exist in this bar.

He grabs her hand and pulls her over to the bar, nudging her to sit up on one of the stools and standing beside her, draping an arm over her shoulders and leaning in close to her. The close contact seemed to work the previous day when she was starting to become overwhelmed on the street outside, there’s no reason to think that it won’t work again in here.

“What do you mean you know them?” she asks, her voice a little less impatient as she leans back against him slightly, and he doesn’t miss the soft sigh of relief she lets out as he feels her body start to relax a little.

He doesn’t know why physical contact with him, of all people, seems to help her out but he’s going to count it as a bonus when it means that he’s able to set her at ease enough for her to function in these situations.

He glances back towards the pool table, but looks away again just as quickly, leaning down closer to Morgan to hide his face when he sees that the group are starting towards the door.

“They know you?” Morgan finally seems to click on, looking quickly towards the group and then back at him, and he only just realises how close he’s gotten to her when her nose just about brushes against his when she does it.

“Mhm,” he distractedly hums in reply, and she studies him for a moment before a small smirk crosses her face.

“I’ve been trying to get this close to you since we met, and now you’re telling me all it would’ve taken was a few demons to scare you?”

This bitch. He frowns at her, his arm dropping away from her shoulders as he straightens up again and moves away from her, temporarily forgetting that he’s trying to hide himself.

“I am not scared.” He spits indignantly.

Of all the things for her to say. Scared.

“You sure, sweetheart?”

Condescension drips from every word and his frown deepens into a glare. “Fuck you.”

“They’re going to see you,” she ignores his insult and nods behind him, and his eyes dart towards the group that have thankfully already moved past him when he remembers that whatever she thinks about him, them seeing him would be a disaster and if they knew that he was after them they’d be looking for them for weeks.

He subtly watches them go, waiting until the last two people are through the door, a blonde guy and a freakishly short girl, and then grabs Morgan’s hand and pulls her off of the stool. “Come on.”

He practically drags her out onto the street, making sure to keep a fair distance away from the group without losing sight of them through the crowd until he realises where they’re going.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Morgan mutters from beside him, obviously realising the same thing at the same time, and he stops and watches them step through the doors of the same motel that they’re staying in.

He grins and looks over at her, letting go of her hand. “Our job just got a whole lot easier.”

“You think?”

He doesn’t bother answering, just heads towards the motel once he’s sure that they’ve had a chance to get to their room and he’s not about to run into them in the lobby.

He’s stayed here countless times, he knows pretty much the entire reception staff, it shouldn’t be too hard for him to find out what room they’re staying in and pay them a visit when they’re not expecting it. Then all he needs to do is convince Morgan that he doesn’t need her help with his next job, they can go their separate ways, and everyone will be happy.

--

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