#Most people are retiring but some are moving or going back to uni so that leaves open positions

[chiropterx]

◎ 𝙸𝙼𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴𝚁

CAN THEY USE CHOPSTICKS? Kirk enjoys a nice lunch of sushi from time to time and while he's not the most skilled chopstick user, his fingers are deft and articulate enough to allow him halfway decent usage. He prefers using a fork whenever he can (or even just use his fingers as they do in Japan) but as long as the food tastes good, he won't complain either way. He's quite the fan of chinese cuisine as well.

WHAT DO THEY DO WHEN THEY CAN’T SLEEP. It's not so much that Kirk can't sleep... rather that his research consumes him and before he knows it, the sun is rising and he's spent the whole night working again. On rare occasions when he does get to bed at a reasonable hour, he'll get dressed and go for a walk should sleep elude him, bundling up in warm clothing before paying a visit to the closest convenience store in order to pick up a few things he might be missing or Gotham Park in hopes of spotting a few bats flying around. He'll take his notebook along for the latter journey, jotting down a few key points such as how many bats he can see, how healthy they are and anything else of interest such as species, behavioural patterns, how they're faring in their local environment and what could be done to improve life for them here in the city. They may not be the same bats he uses in his research but Kirk still cares about all species of animals and is an avid environmentalist despite the gloom and pollution of Gotham's industrial facilities.

WHAT ORDER DO THEY WASH THINGS IN THE SHOWER. Starts with his hair first. Kirk turns on the shower and climbs in straight away, not minding the cold water spraying across his skin before lathering up a generous dose of shampoo and working it into his roots. While that gets to work, he'll take a bar of soap and scrub his body all over, starting underneath his arms, then his stomach, between his legs and working his way further down until his skin is thoroughly soaped before rinsing off under the shower's flow. He may apply a second application of shampoo and conditioner, liking his hair to be as clean as possible before finishing up and drying off.

WHAT’S THEIR COFFEE ORDER. ANYTHING SWEET. Seriously, Kirk loves creamy drinks such as frappuccinos, mocha lattes and the like! He'll always request his beverages to come with extra whipped cream, caramel drizzle - anything that sounds sweet and oh so unhealthy for you and would absolutely finish up work early just to be able to go out and order something with pumpkin spice as soon as it's avaliable. He doesn't normally consume such sugary treats other than prinsesstårta when visiting family in Sweden so creamy drinks can really comfort him when the weather is bad or he's feeling low.

HOW DO THEY ACT AROUND CHILDREN. Very patient and understanding. Kirk is definitely a family man at heart and has several younger relatives, not to mention children of his own in some canon depictions so it stands to reason he's equipped to handle kids and would treat them as well as his parents treated him while growing up which is to say a lot. He doesn't mind how rambunctious children can be nor how inquisitive their little minds are - young people need to learn and mistakes are one way that happens, so he would rarely lose his temper unless they did something incredibly stupid/dangerous, or pointlessly cruel. Even then, his anger would be more of a cold disappointment than fury, openly remarking on how he thought they were better than that. All in all, Kirk would be a respectful adult, neither berating a child nor talking down to them. Instead he'd be keen to help them learn with whatever they're interested in, knowing how important education is to a child's future. He's a very good uncle to his own young relatives, keeping contact with them even though he lives in another country altogether.

WHAT WOULD THEY WATCH ON TV WHEN THEY’RE BORED AND NOTHING THEY REALLY LIKE IS ON. He's not much of a television watcher. The news is full of doom and gloom, making it rather depressing to watch even on the best of days. It's also hard to find suitable channels for the hearing-impaired and while his cochlear implants are sound, he can't help but be a little disconnected from it all anyway. He might watch some older reruns from years ago and if he's got time, watch foreign movies where subtitles are absolutely necessary in order to understand what's going on. Kirk's just not the sort of man who'd waste precious time watching cheesy shows unless spending quality time with somebody who does enjoy that sort of thing.

TAGGED BY;; @arkhampsych, probably one or two other people over on Roman's blog? TAGGING;; Whoever hasn't done it yet!

[blingblong55]

Walking in the wind-141

A/N: sorry but I'm a directioner at heart babes so the title was a must

GN!Reader, angst, some fluff, platonic!relationship, death of character

20 years later, 141 was officially retired, all married, happy families, peaceful sunny days and most importantly, no war, no guns, just peace.

A week ago you said to me "Do you believe I'll never be too far?" If you're lost, just look for me You'll find me in the region of the summer stars

Every month, no matter where either one of the people in the team was in the world, they would fly to a small home in town in the southern part of the U.S. And arrive between 6-7 in the afternoon, to talk and catch up because it's better to see the person than to text them. The stories shared between all, the wives/husbands, kids and how old they were getting. Unlike the rest, you moved to America, and wanted that movie-like life, in some small town, driving a truck, passing through quiet streets where all anyone worried about was the leaves that would fall in autumn. You and your partner opened a small pub.

The name for it was 'R/N's Place" This was after you finally get out of the toxic part of your life, the family and the ache it gave you when you were there. Not a normal name for a pub but the locals loved it. Your favourite part was that you received lots of veterans, they all told you about their time serving and you, like the proud friend you are displayed a picture of you and the team in your first and last mission together.

It was almost around the time the men arrived, Price being the first, followed by Gaz who flew in with him. Soap arrived late, his children wanted to talk to their father before bedtime and Ghost arrived last, getting a call from his partner to which he always answered, he always made it clear his partner was a priority now that he is retired. You waited by the table with the rest for Ghost, your wife/husband serving the clients. "And there he is, Simon." Price smiled a little, proud to see his family again. "Alright, who's first?" Gaz asked and drank from his pint.

"I'll go first," Ghost said, which was a definite first. "Go on, son." Price passed all a cigar. A tradition he started once his grown soldiers/children were all retired. "Me and my partner are expecting a son." A secret he kept until it was assured the baby would make it this time. "Congrats mate!" Soap hugged him, feeling proud of a man he considered his oldest brother. "That's very much well deserved, man." Gaz smiled and you stared in awe. Price looked down with a soft chuckle, wanting to dismiss the tears that formed in his eyes. His wallet would be getting a new picture of the newest addition to the family soon. --- "R/N, I won't make it, go!" Ghost said to which you shook your head. "No, this is the one command I will not take! You will get old and fat but you will NOT die on me lieutenant, not today!" you yelled over the loud noises. ---

He looks at you and you hug him, whispering in his ear, "See, I told you it would be possible this time, Simon. I'm so happy and proud of you." Words that definitely made the tears well up in his eyes.

The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye Means we've already won A necessity for apologies between you and me Baby, there is none

"Now you are all making me feel old." Price jokes and finally looks up. The four people he fought with through wars, all living the lives he knew were all much earned. Through the wounds, blood and sacrifice, somehow, five mad people are still alive. And the entire night, Soap told stories of his farm, and Gaz gave advice on how to fix some stuff, a trip he would soon have to make to Scotland. Gaz on the new tricks his little ones make, how he knows karma got to him and his back aches, so much for the jokes he told about Price. Ghost with his wood-making business, one he started in the backyard and now in Manchester's best small business. Price on how his kids are now in uni and the youngest one is in secondary.

And then you, with their favourite pub in the entire world, how you adopted a child and your eldest in primary already. Your wife/husband watching you smile from afar. You always were excited for these meetings, it was the one time someone other than the local veterans understood the stories you told.

We had some good times, didn't we? We had some good tricks up our sleeve Goodbyes are bittersweet But it's not the end I'll see your face again

And, as each month passed by, it turned into 10 years later. You and the other men in the team gathered not in America but back home in England. All in black dressing, lifting the coffin of the father you all shared. Price had peacefully passed on a calm night. As his wife puts it, he was finally ready to go, his mission was over and the children he raised were all old enough to understand and his little soldiers as he called you were well off in life, the one he made sure you all had. In years you had never seen so many of the toughest and now retired soldiers you worked with cry so much. You did too. The ceremony was as expected, memorable, beautiful and for the last time in John Price's life, peaceful.

Yesterday I went out to celebrate the birthday of a friend But as we raised our glasses up to make a toast I realised you were missing

You all flew back to the first ever pub he took you to. Raise your glasses and shed more tears. You see, this was a promise you all made. An oath between Task Force 141. When one passes, those that remain must go to the first pub we talked to as not a team but a family, and just then we can mourn but also celebrate we once lived.

And I know we'll be alright, child Just close your eyes and see And I'll be by your side Any time you're needing me Oh, yeah

Ghost chuckles, "And he told me, 'you reckon I can make it?' and that old man did it, the deadliest move ever and he fuckin' made it." he takes a sip of his drink. Gaz smiles, fond memories shared between him and Price, to be remembered until his final breath. "He used to do this trick with the smoke from his cigar just for my little girl to giggle, and man does she still ask for that trick," Soap shared. All four of you, smoking a cigar, just like he would've. "Can you believe the old man never complained too much about his back?" you ask to which all others nod. Now in your late 40's to early 50's, you never understood how he never once complained of the aching bones or back, proving he was and will always be the strongest and toughest man to ever grace your lives.

And you will find me Yeah, you will find me In places that we've never been For reasons we don't understand

tags: @warenai @liyanahelena

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my mom to stop singing?

okay so a couple months back i (a uni student) moved out of my old apartment and back in with my parents while i try to find a new one. the only issue is, since i first moved away, my parents had moved into a smaller house than they had when me and my siblings were growing up. they now have their bedroom and my dad's study, but no additional bed or guest rooms. for this reason, i have been sleeping on their living room couch.

my mom also doesn't have a room of her own, so her laptop is also in the living room, as is mine. so basically the living room is our shared domain for the time we spend at home. i have class and friends to spend time with, so i'm away relatively frequently (though i'm on winter break now of course), while my mom is retired and is at home basically 95% of the time year-round.

me and my mom both listen to music a lot and our tastes do not overlap basically at all. i listen mostly to indie, folk, rock, the kind of stuff white queer kids love, while my mom's music is almost entirely soulful christian pop about big j and stuff.

up until recently, my mom didn't wear headphones. she'd play music directly from her laptop speakers. this obviously bothered me somewhat, but i hadn't said anything about it. recently (i.e. a couple weeks ago) i asked her if she'd consider starting to wear headphones, which she has for the most part, though sometimes she forgets. i just kinda let her do whatever if she does, i haven't mentioned it again since.

so that's the first time i asked my mom to be quieter, and i don't think i'm an asshole for that. my worry is about the second time. you see, over the last week, she's taken to singing along to her tunes. maybe she did that before and i just didn't notice over the actual song itself? anyway, i can definitely hear it now.

and of course it's not the best musical performance, it's a lady with little singing experience belting along to her favourite songs, but it's not really about the quality of the singing. i don't like the music she likes and would prefer not to listen to it, is all.

today, whilst she was singing, i gently asked her: "could you stop singing?" i didn't mean forever, just in that moment. i really tried to say it in a nice way, and i don't think i sounded particularly rude? it should be noted, though, that my parents do seem to think of me as some kind of sensitive sally intent on criticizing every little thing they do. that feeling does kind of go both ways, but i admit sometimes i can be harsh on my mom, because she can be overbearing and a bit neurotic, and i don't really get to have the space i wish i could, especially not now when i'm living with them.

anyway, so i ask: "could you stop singing?" and my mom says something like "okay- well, i would prefer not to." the way she said it really made it sound like i had hurt her feelings. so i said, "okay. that's alright. you can sing." she stopped singing and has been sort of running around for the last 10 minutes or so restlessly doing random things.

my parents are that kind of people who are really really deep in "politeness" and genuinely baffle me since i'm autistic (like, a couple of days ago we had some leftover cake, and my dad straight up forced me to take half of what was left over even though i said i didn't want it. i still don't really know why?) so i'm sure even though i said "okay, nevermind then," my mom didn't believe me.

while she was running around doing random things, i told her, "sorry if i hurt your feelings." and she said, "oh, it's nothing." i genuinely don't know if i'm in the wrong here. i feel like, on the one hand, this is a space we have to share, and i should have the right to ask her not to make noise (i always wear headphones and never sing along to music or vc with friends when my parents are around), but on the other hand, it's her house, and she should have the right to sing in it, right? i don't know.

TL;DR: i asked my mom to stop singing in the only space for our computers in the house and i'm pretty sure it upset her. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[callmewrinkles3]

Snapshot.

February 2029

For as long as she could remember, Em never really liked family gatherings. Not even when she was a kid. The immense pressure on her every single time was something she hated to deal with. She had to be the perfect child. Sit straight, use the right fork, not speak with the adults were talking but keep an ear out in case a question was directed to her and she couldn’t answer it. It was the pressure of remembering all of the things that her mother and her nanny said to her. Plus the questions thrown at her that felt impossible.

Being asked “what do you want to be when you grow up?” made her nervous because there was no right answer. She didn’t want to be an art curator like her mother or a lawyer like her father. She was just a kid and all she knew was how much she loved books, horses, and painting. As she grew up the stress and the pressure seemed to grow with her. That stupid question was still there but in her teen years she couldn’t laugh it off as a joke. Her family was wondering and waiting for her answers, ready to point fingers and judge and nitpick every single one of her choices.

But then she shocked them all with her university decision, picking a career and the questions moved from what she did in uni to when she was going to settle down and get married. Find a man and have kids and clearly give up the “unsuitable” career that she hadn’t even tried to pursue because she hadn’t even graduated. It made her anxious about every family gathering, no matter how big or small they were.

She had a hundred and one reasons why she had armour surrounding her when she met Dan. She had all of the reasons in the world not to trust people without a second thought, but all of that ice and security started to melt thanks to Dan’s warmth.

None of it was a walk in the park, especially considering how many friends Dan had and the popularity he had. It was a ridiculously long journey that included going back to their bedroom when his home mates surrounded them at the farm, anxiety attacks when there were so many new people. But with time, love, and patience she started to feel better about the annual reunions and parties he held when they got home after the season ended. With time she got used to the mess and noise that came with the man she loved, and at some point she started to enjoy it in a weird kind of way. Whether it was his loud friends and watching them on dirt bikes doing jumps, or at a family barbecue, she got to realise that the noise that sometimes made her hide and take deep breaths also brought Danny’s most contagious, happiest laugh. They were the things that made him smile and recharge his batteries the most, so she got through it.

But what Em never imagined was that at some point she would end up loving the mess and the noise. After Dan retired for good and they traded in the life of hotel rooms and planes for one fully installed in the farm, the barbecues, dinners, and celebrations became bigger. The farm was the centre of everyone’s events and she loved it. That’s how she ended up staring at the beautiful mess that was tables linked together with the Clarkes and the Ricciardos celebrating Charlie’s birthday. Every year she insisted she didn’t want to do anything fancy and just be surrounded by the people who loved her most in the world. So there were two big families who had adopted each other and joined together as one, laughing and joking while eating and drinking. The three toddlers were half asleep in the playpen as night began to fall, Lulu insisting she was awake and sitting on her daddy’s knee.

Em was only supposed to be gone for a second to pick some ice up from the kitchen, but she took an extra few seconds to look through the kitchen window and soak it all in for a moment. This was all she had ever wanted, everything she never thought she’d get to have. She had a wonderful family who loved her and supported her through thick and thin. Who asked her questions out of love and not to make her feel bad. Who’d helped fix her broken and battered heart.

Just when she was about to take her phone out to take a photo that would last so much longer than the one in her memory, Em felt an arm wrap around her shoulders. After so many years she didn’t have to turn around to know it was Blake standing next to her and pulling her close.

“We really did it. Didn’t we, Timmy?” Blake asked with a smile on his face, looking down at Em for a moment. There was nothing to explain. They were so, so lucky. They’d married the loves of their lives, had a wonderful life and two gorgeous kids, and it all felt like a crazy dream. But it was nothing but true.

“We really fucking did it, Blakey. We really did.”

[rozinaaa]

I Got My Instagram Account Back

I know this seems like a rash and hasty decision, but I decided to reactivate my Instagram account (and save it from being deleted, which would have happened in just 3 days from now), mainly because I would fear that I'd end up losing everything that I put onto that platform.

On top of that, I've also realised that artists and designers need to be on Instagram, as much of an annoying rat race and battle against the algorithm that it currently is, just so that other people can actually see the work in a casual way (which seems a lot better than sticking it in a museum, since I always find museums and galleries to be an awkward experience because you're expected to quickly move along and be mindful of other visitors, so you can't really stand in front of a piece of art for half an hour and analyse it in depth, and is also better than having your work live exclusively on your site (and nowhere else), because although it's recommended, people need a gateway to your site, and social media seems to solve this problem, because no one is really going to go out of their way to casually view one person's site, as they would with their Instagram profile), since it's most likely going to be easier to discover new people on a platform that most of the population uses, especially one that's designed to be social.

Additionally, Instagram is a bit of an archive for me, since I get to see my work over the years, although not all of the work is posted in a linear way, mainly because I tend to mix it up by showing some new work (I haven't really done any pure art/illustration work since I handed in my uni work, so I'd love to just dive into it again whenever I get the chance), as well as showing some work that I created 5 years ago, but ones that still look decent to me.

I know that the r/nosurf and digital minimalism echo chambers that exist online basically tell you to ditch everything, don a flip phone (seriously, I haven't actually seen anyone use a dumb phone, apart from a few old people that are most likely past the retirement age, but even then, most people around that age tend to have a normal smartphone), live like it's still the 90's and make your life harder just to avoid a few distractions (little do they know that my mind itself is a distraction, especially when I've axed all of the other distractions and there's nothing left for me to do), because there were probably addictions and distractions before the age of social media that were just as bad, if not, worse.

You know what? Screw those pointless and ironic echo chambers, where people talk about leaving the internet… on the internet itself.

I am a visual person and I need a way to show my work (especially since most jobs ask for a portfolio, so I guess my Instagram account can also act as a portfolio), as well as being able to see what others are doing, essentially being able to stay in touch with the industry and on top of trends, mainly so that I don't run the risk of looking outdated.

I could have just waited a few more days until my account would get tossed into the void, but then I'd end up losing a bit of myself in the process, since that would have been all of my work gone, along with the revolving door of followers that I have.

It's easier said than done, but going forward, I'm going to focus less on the metrics and more on just posting consistently.

On top of that, I'm also going to unfollow everyone, and only follow people/accounts that genuinely bring me joy (as in, I get genuinely excited when I see a new post from them, and I enjoy the things that they post), because there's no point in following an account if it feels like a drag.

For this, I'm definitely going to avoid people who are way too metaphysical about the platform itself (especially those ones that either complain about the algorithm left, right, and centre (honestly, just cry about it), the so-called "entrepreneurs" peddling some generic course about hustle culture (aka burning yourself out) and whatnot, or the ones that provide "informative" posts about anything), since that gets boring really quick, and also because I'm going to be on there to avoid the risk of being out of touch with reality.

That's the first step, but later on, I'd like to perhaps create an account for the curation front (basically just consume and create content at the exact same time, essentially turning my common bad habit of scrolling through content into something that's more productive), as well as creating a new finsta account so that I can show up as myself without having to fuss about having a personal brand and all that, with the finsta basically being a slightly updated version of the ones (I had a LOT of throwaway accounts) that I used to have in high school and college.

Overall, it's good to be back I guess.

[cowboyhorsegirl]

hellooooo, 8, 17, 40, 45, 50 <3

*shows up a month late with coffee* helloooo thank you for the ask! <3 <3 <3

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)?

I love this question, there are simply too many songs I want to see fic-ified!

Somebody Else by the 1975

I always imagine this as like a college AU where stevetony are together, but then steve's childhood best friend bucky moves back to the states to go to uni after having to relocate with his family to Russia when he was a kid. steve is so excited to have his best friend back and at first, tony's really happy for him too! but slowly, he starts to feel more and more like there's something else going on, but steve keeps reassuring him that there definitely isn't. i like to think that there is some emotional infidelity, but steve is honestly in denial about it himself too until one day he realizes that he's in love with bucky, he'll always love bucky, and that their history is too great to ignore, so while he still cherishes tony deeply, he breaks up with him anyway. anytime i listen to the song, i imagine a fic with a scene where tony, steve, and bucky have all found themselves at the same party together and tony is just trapped there watching steve and bucky be so incredibly happy together and just bitterly ruminating on the whole thing, with steve feeling guilty for the way things ended and wanting to be a kind ex but tony just truly doesn't have the capacity to try and accept any sort of kindness from the guy who broke his heart. I don't think this is something i'd actually write though, but it's a fun scenario to Rotate :)

April Come She Will by Simon & Garfunkel

In my head I've been writing an 1872 fic based on this song for like 2 months fjksdlfjklsdjf.

It's pretty self explanatory, Sheriff Rogers has a whirlwind summer affair with this mysterious, brilliant and clever blacksmith who tears into town like a tornado and leaves Steve just as breathless. I think a lot about what the impetus for Tony leaving so suddenly would be, and the best idea I've come up with is that Tony finds out that Steve was shot with Stark bullets out of Stark rifles during the war, and it just reminds Tony of all the destruction and pain he caused that he had been running away from. The guilt from the fact that it was his own bullets, something he designed and created, that had caused this injury to Steve is just too great to deal with, so Tony starts distancing himself from Steve. He vanishes all too suddenly on Steve's birthday, with only a simple note and a small device he invented that will let Steve intercept Mayor Fisk's outgoing and incoming telegrams and help him save the town left behind to remember him by. in a few months, steve has done just that, and it's then—when he's finally ushered in a semblance of peace in the town with the help of tony's invention—that he hears the salacious news about millionaire weapons manufacturer Tony Stark dying in obscurity by the bottle in some unknown town even further west than Timely. Steve doesn't realize who it is until he sees the picture in the paper, and he suddenly understands why Tony was so stricken when he told him about his wartime injuries. :(

Heart of Gold by Johnny Cash

Another 1872 fic (but only in my brain😔✌️) about steve and tony, old and weathered and just about as married as you could be without ever realizing I love you stargazing and confessing their feelings to each other and it's all so soft and sweet and perfect in my head <3 <3 <3 Like they're talking about Steve retiring from being Sheriff and finally officially passing the baton to Red Wolf, and Tony's like got any big retirement plans Sheriff? i hear most people travel, I suppose if you're right willing i could take you to london and new york and paris and milan. wouldn't even make ya beg for it, retirement present and all and steve's like i don't know about all that stark, 'sides, i reckon there ain't anywhere on earth that's got stars that shine half as bright as the ones in timely do and tony's like an' how'd you know, world traveler that you aren't and they keep talking and joking and it's just like always and then steve admits his feelings for tony without being even a little shy about it, like it's a sure thing and it always has been and tony gets all flustered and they hold hands (they hold hands!!!!!!!!!!!!) and then Steve's gazing up at the night sky with a soft perfect smile on this weathered, wrinkling face and sure the stars aren't quite as crystal to his aging eyes as they were when he was a youngin' but that don't mean he can't enjoy the heavens blinking back at him like the angels themselves are sending him morse code messages. and tony isn't looking at the stars at all, not even a little bit. he's just holding on to steve's hand and can't stop looking at his face, in awe and in love with the cosmos, and he sees the moonlight glint off the Sheriff's badge and he thinks that in all the places he's ever traveled, he can't remember a brighter star than the one he's found here in timely, neither <3

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

In S1 E12, Gamma World Part 1, the first scene between Black Widow and Madame Hydra in the entire show is Black Widow showing up to offer the Hulk's blood to Madame Hydra but the exchange is interrupted by Hawkeye bursting in and ruining the deal and tying up Black Widow and it's extremely a little BDSM-coded. But the minute i saw Madame Hydra & Black Widow in the same room together my brain just went *WOMEN* and since then i've always wanted an AU where Hawkeye isn't successful in stopping Black Widow from handing over Hulk's blood and instead of all the commotion that took place in the actual episode, immediately after the exchange Madame Hydra has sex with Black Widow in a power play and at the end of it Madame Hydra reveals to Black Widow that they've killed Clint and even though she and Clint are lovers, Natasha could never tell him she wasn't actually a HYDRA double-agent so he died thinking she betrayed him but she can't reveal any of that in the moment bc Madame Hydra is still watching for her reaction so instead she simply doesn't react at all to the body of her dead lover who was killed at the orders of the woman she only consented to sex with under threat that she'd find out she's an undercover SHIELD agent otherwise

40. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

Yeah I reread fics all the time!! If it's a longer fic though, I usually just revisit the more emotionally cathartic or smutty bits and pieces whenever the whim strikes me

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?

hmmm, i think i'm getting better at not being afraid of my own words and letting things be a little bad so that they can have a chance to be written at all.

Also i like to think i'm improving at writing dialogue, but i suppose the reader would be the better judge of that

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

i feel like i'm all talked out lol 😅 But I like this question: 4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of? bc i'm really proud of that tiny treatise on religion i wrote in Paradise Blue.

"Religion is the price of admission men pay to gamble for a chance at receiving the Lord's mercy"

It's not an outlook I necessarily agree with, but it's definitely an understandable perspective and it was fun & challenging & very rewarding to figure out how to convey this sentiment in so few words and in a tone that I think fits 1872.

[tomtenadia]

Dreams of Gold

Rowaelin month day 11  - Surprise kisses

Rowan loved swimming. He had been doing it since he remembered. His parents had put him in a swimming pool when he was very young and according to their stories he had loved it immediately, so when he was a bit older they had sent him to swimming classes and then once at school he had started competing as well. Small tournaments while he was in elementary and middle school, but once in high school he had joined an actual club and had started competing seriously. He had won his fair share of medals and trophies and his parents loved to brag about their son’s athletic prowess. Sometimes it was bordering on embarrassing. 

Now at uni and on his second year of a degree in computer engineering he had taken his love for swimming even further.

He had joined an actual professional club and with time he realised that butterfly was his favourite stroke. He was quite skilled at freestyle as well but he loved the raw power in the butterfly. It had taken him a lot of time and training to master it to perfection but now that he did, he’d never change it for any other stroke.

Juggling university and a heavy and very strict training schedule had been exhausting at times. Sometimes he even wondered why he bothered studying but his parents had made him promise he’d have a plan b. They had faith in him and supported him throughout his career. Drove him for hours to competitions when he hadn’t his licence yet and then following to all his events. But they also believed that the sports world was fickle and that glory would not last forever. He had agreed and had a plan b. At least he liked working with computers and was pretty skilled at that as well. He had fixed both his parents laptops and taught them as well how to use them properly for their jobs.

*

It was a January day and Rowan was running across campus to get to his car as quickly as possible and get to training. He hated Thursdays. His last class of the day finished twenty minutes before he was due at the pool and without traffic it took him seventeen minutes to reach the sports complex. He was looking forward to the semester to be over and rid himself of that boring class.  

Luckily for him, that day the traffic had been light and he had made it with four minutes to spare.

He parked his car, grabbed his duffel bag and ran inside.

He peeked through the big glass windows and saw the team already gathered at pool side for the daily briefing.

What he had tried to avoid thinking was that it was a special day. The federation was going to release the names of the people who were going to be chosen to attend the olympic games the following year. Rowan had been training even harder, smashed records and won a few more competitions to prove that one of those spots was his. 

Sighing heavily he ran and joined the team.

“Sorry coach.” He apologised. 

“Don’t worry, Rowan. It’s Thursday and I am aware of your class finishing late. Glad you could join us.”

Coach Gavriel was a legend in the swimming world. He was a multiple olympic gold winner. He was  a butterfly swimmer like him and his regime was strict. Once he retired he had created his own professional team and many of the people he had coached had gone and won medals.

He moved closed to the blonde woman with the blue swimsuit “Galathynius.”

She turned and gave him the most beautiful of smiles “Whitethorn, excited for the big announcement?”

He nodded.

“I don’t think I ever wanted anything so badly.” She told him eagerly.

I do. Thought Rowan. You.

His secret was that he was madly in love with her. It had happened all of a sudden. One evening they had both stayed late for extra practice. Aelin was a freestyle specialist. That night during training he had noticed a small error that she would do and that he was sure would cost her time. So he had coached and fixed the slight issue allowing her to cut the water perfectly and almost null the friction. With her long golden hair and her deep turquoise eyes with a ring of gold in them she was like a goddess. And he was madly in love with her. But he never said anything. He had bottled up his feeling. Plus he was positive she saw him as nothing but a friend.

“I am sure we are all excited to discover who is going to represent Terrasen in next year’s olympic games.” Gavriel started, drawing the attention back to him “Some of you will go home and will have a lot to celebrate for. Having the chance to attend the olympics is the greatest goal for an athlete, it’s the prize after years of hard training and sacrifice.” His tawny eyes swept the group in front of him “For some of you it won’t be this olympic games, but I don’t want you to be discouraged. Keep training. It will happen.”

Rowan cast a side glance to Aelin and saw her head high and a hopeful face. He wanted her to get a spot too.

“Ok, people here we go.” Shouted Gavriel flapping a sheet of paper in the air. The list. The list of those who were going to the Olympics.

Rowan’s heart raced.

Gavriel went through the list and announced all the specialties for the guys. He was slightly detached until he announced his specialty.

“Men 100 and 200m butterfly,” Gavriel’s voice woke him up and he closed his eyes for an instant. That was it. That was the moment of truth. “Rowan.” 

His heart stopped. He knew that there were other three guys in the team up against him for that spot but he had got it. He was going to the olympics. He turned to Aelin and the smile she gave him made the moment even more precious.

Gavriel started calling out the names for the relay teams and Rowan almost cursed when he was added to the freestyle one and then in the butterfly leg for the medley. He hated relays.

He took another step closer to Aelin “I have all my fingers and toes crossed for you.” He whispered to her.

“Thanks and well done for making the team.”

He nodded and went back listening for the female selections.

He zoned out until he heard the magic word freestyle and refocused straight away on Gavriel.

“Aelin will swim both 50m and 100m freestyle.” Rowan’s head flipped to her side. He saw her look at him with the biggest smile ever seen. 

And then, his body moved of his own accord. He closed the distance between them and swept her in his arms, up high and tightened his strong arms around her body. She folded her legs around him and he started spinning in joy and then out of the blue he kissed her. Deeply, with passion and with all the love he had for her for a long time. Everything around them disappeared. There was only the two of them wrapped in each other arms and the taste of her lips on his. He had been dreaming about that for so long and it hadn’t disappointed.

“We are going to the Olympics.” He whispered against her lips.

“You just kissed me, Whitethorn.” She replied.

“Any complaints?”

“Yes, only that it took you so long to do it.”

 Eventually he put her down and apologised to the team for the extreme level of PDA. Everyone had laughed and told him it was about time. Apparently it was not a secret that he was in love with Aelin.

“Ok, people Rowan finally made his move. Now let’s all go back to training. You won’t win a gold metal by sitting on the side of the pool relaxing.

Everyone scattered and Rowan went to the changing room with the biggest smile on his face.

He was going to the olympics and Aelin at his side.

Tag

@thegreyj​

[corinnesamuels]

The One about the Cupholder

This is for @mppmaraudergirl, who mentioned a conversation about a cupholder on a couch not being conducive to cuddling on the jily discord. I spent all day thinking about that couch. And the next few thinking through this fic.

“Well?” He asks excitedly.

“It’s. . . a couch?”

James Potter rolls his eyes with a sigh. “It’s a sectional, Remus. Look at all this space! And the recliner!” He walks around the back so that he can gesture grandly at his favorite of the sectional’s amenities. “It has a cup holder!”

The third friend, Sirius Black, shakes his head in annoyed confusion. “We have a coffee table, James. What do we need a cup holder on the couch for?”

“Sectional.” James replies. “And for the convenience of it. Whoever sits here won’t have to lean over to pick their drinks up from the coffee table!”

James looks between Sirius and Remus excitedly, waiting for their unimpressed stares to dissipate and shift into fond acknowledgement of his forward thinking.

“Did the breakup addle your brain?” Sirius asks finally.

“Maybe it is a cry for help.” Remus nods as he looks James over curiously. “He really hasn’t had any time to process it.”

“True. The breakup and the betrayal were a hefty one-two combo.” Sirius says, rubbing his chin. “The betrayal was just one thing for us. We were happy to see the bird gone.”

“Nothing addled my brain!” James scoffs. “A man can’t want a comfortable couch to come home to after a long day’s work?”

“James, you work from home three days a week.” Remus says.

“That is beside the point, but thank you for remembering.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, clearly growing bored with the ordeal. “Look, if you want to get a couch, fine. It’s grey, it’ll work with most things. Looks comfortable enough. The cupholder seems unnecessary, but whatever. Can we go now?”

“Sectional.”

“Whatever.”

All in all, James considers it a win. And he could desperately use a win. In a month’s time, he had experienced a not-so-amicable breakup with his girlfriend and a betrayal by a friend he thought of as a brother. While the breakup had been long overdue, it meant that he had quickly needed a place to stay. The upside (if you could call it that) of their friend’s betrayal meant that there was a room available in Remus and Sirius’ flat.

On the other hand, the list of things stolen in the betrayal had included the couch they’d had since uni. How he’d managed, they had no idea. But Peter Pettigrew had been full of surprises, it seemed.

After a thorough cleaning, James moves into the vacant room and gets re-acquainted with Sirius and Remus’ daily habits. Soon, James instinctively knows when Sirius would be returning home from the motorcycle shop he owns, as well as which mornings he could expect to find a man or woman half-dressed in Sirius’ clothes at breakfast. He could tell when Remus would need time to vent or consume several stiff drinks as he trudged through his dissertation. It was almost like uni all over again.

Through it all, James gives himself time to sulk, drowning himself in FIFA, Call of Duty, and crisps after work. He knows that things will sting less over time, and for now, settles for being at peace and drama-free with his best mates. James spends the next year claiming the recliner portion of the sectional and keeping a drink in its trusty cupholder at all times. In fact, when teammates from the recreational football team he plays for on the weekends commented on the great shape he maintained even while eating his body weight in crisps, he credited it to the cupholder, saying hydration was always just an arm’s reach away.

Remus had raised his eyebrows and folded his lips inward at the comment but chose not to speak on it. Sirius just snorted and rolled his eyes.

Living with Sirius and Remus also meant spending more time with their friends that lived down the hall, who he’d known before, but only in passing. James finds himself watching football matches with Marlene McKinnon, a riot who often gives Sirius a run for his money. He makes it a point to ask Mary McDonald for the weather report (“You wanker, you know I do the traffic report and local stories!”). James also trades jokes in passing with Lily Evans, the cheeky pediatrics nurse who curses like a sailor and keeps her stash of lollies and stickers next to her stash of whiskey.

Cheeky and attractive pediatrics nurse.

James has no desire to interact with the opposite sex again anytime soon, though. For now, all he needs is his gaming consoles, his favorite spot on the sectional, and a drink ready for him in his cupholder. But the more their friends hang out, the more Lily seems to grow on him.

She didn’t do anything in particular. She was just . . . her.

He knows he is a lost cause when Lily manages to get herself locked out of her apartment one evening. Mary is covering a shift at the station, and Marlene and Sirius are out wreaking havoc on some unsuspecting establishment, so she waits it out at the flat with James until her roommates return. Lily has her hair in two buns atop the sides of her head, a sticker on her cheek, and is still in her scrubs, and James can’t help but grin at her as she walks in. He watches as she digs deep into her pockets and pulls out a handful of lollies, allowing him to take his pick. He takes a green apple-flavored one while she settles on lemon.

“Now, teach me how to play this FIFA game you’ve been playing nonstop since you moved in.” Lily says, picking up the second control and making a show of pressing all the buttons madly.

Sitting on either side of the cupholder, James and Lily play the game, joking and laughing the entire time. James realizes that though he had stopped moping some weeks before, he laughed more with Lily that night than he’d laughed in who knows how long. When Marlene and Sirius return, Lily thanks James for his hospitality and leaves a sticker and another green apple lolly in the cupholder as she says goodbye.

James spends the next few weeks subtly watching Lily when they pass each other in the hall or go out for dinner or drinks with the gang. He honestly doesn’t even really realize that he is doing it until one day he thinks he sees her watching him, too.

When Remus defends his dissertation, the gang decides to throw a celebratory party at the boys’ flat. Remus is deliriously drunk, taking votes on whether he should burn his dissertation or build a shrine to it. James mingles and laughs with their friends and Remus’ colleagues but eventually retires to his favorite spot and places a glass of whiskey in his cupholder as he pulls the lever to recline the seat. He looks over to the other side of the sectional and sees people squeezing themselves onto the cushions and sitting on the floor as they chat drunkenly. James smiles to himself, thinking of how the cupholder had ensured that he not only has his drink close by but that he also had enough space to relax. He toasts to his own foresight and takes a sip from his glass. It’s a brand of whiskey he knows is Lily’s favorite. James had gone to three different liquor stores to find it for the party.

Lily comes to say hello a few moments later and, seeing that there is no additional room on the sectional, chooses to sit next to him on the armrest of the recliner. While they talk, she reaches over him and takes his glass from the cupholder, stealing a swig of the amber colored liquid. She closes her eyes and smiles, relishing the taste. James finds himself very distracted by the euphoric look on her face—her closed eyes, head tilted back, dark red hair tumbling around her in waves, neck elongated . . .

He clears his throat to gather himself and reign his thoughts back to safer ground.

They talk about everything, or maybe nothing. James can’t be sure since he is still so damned distracted by her every move. He gets a reprieve when Sirius calls for a group picture to document the occasion. Mary has set up a camera and tripod that she, ahem . . . borrowed from work—though definitely not for the act of taking quality selfies, she says.

As Sirius makes his way to the front of the sitting room, he sees James and Lily talking and exchanges a devious look with Marlene that Lily sees too late.

Suddenly, Marlene shoves Lily off of the armrest. Lily attempts to brace her fall, but James’ reflexes kick in, and he catches her right before her back bangs into the cupholder. They lock eyes for a moment, or maybe a lifetime, before they seem to realize that James is holding her in his lap.

“I’m so sorry, Marlene pushed me and—”

“So incredibly sorry, Evans, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just didn’t want you to get hurt—”

They stop and lock eyes again. James watches as Lily’s cheeks grow pink, and when she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, he wishes he could have been the one to tuck it there.

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Lily says, uncharacteristically bashful as she looks up at him through her lashes. James is so distracted by the way she is biting the corner of her lip that he almost misses it.

Oh. Oh.

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding out of breath.

“Yeah.” She confirms softly. Her hair falls out of place again, and this time James does tuck it back into place.

Around them, Sirius and Mary are getting everyone gathered and placed around the sectional. A drunken Remus sits in the front, holding his dissertation like he’s posing for a picture with a toddler.

“Everyone one say ‘PhD’ on three!” Mary yells over the lively crowd. James hears Sirius count them down, but James can’t take his eyes away from Lily.

“One!”

Lily rests a hand on his forearm.

“Two!”

James wraps an arm around her legs to hold her to him more securely.

“Three!”

“I’m not uncomfortable either.” James tells Lily.

“Yeah?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

“PhD!” The camera flashes, and everyone yells and cheers around them, clapping Remus on the shoulder and toasting with their drinks. But James and Lily still only have eyes for each other.

The previous year had been full of emotional upheaval for James Potter. But at that moment, he had never been so grateful for his cupholder or the fact that it meant there was less sitting room on the couch.

Sectional.

Whatever.

Read on ao3!

[scriptaed]

bygones of the sun. 07 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok;

length: 6.7k;

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

Ten bucks for club dues and fifteen bucks for transportation plus utility fees and you’d think boot camps really are as luxurious and happy-go-lucky as movies paint them out to be. Unfortunately for you and your recently trance filled state, confronting the face of reality only comes colliding into you just a couple of weeks since you last saw him. Despite the malicious side effects of reading into rumors, people really aren’t lying when they say the dance club’s boot camp is synonymous to a “living hell disguised as a getaway paradise by scheming club officers.” While you aren’t attending as an official member of the team, and therefore forfeiting the rights to proclaim the overbearing stress and practices that are soon to come, there are certain other issues weighing your mind.

First off, paying twenty five bucks just to see this one despicably sly and retired dancer resume his role as the captain is all too pricey of a fee, because even you're not sure why you’ve invested so much time and effort into someone who only sees you as his next victim of his black book filled with female contacts. You thought you had gotten over him, but the mere fact that you’re attending despite claiming to be “dragged into this” is a direct opposition of such a foolish belief, or better yet, desire. But such questions become trivial when the first obstacle you face of the four days long journey ahead of you is simply tossing two overly stuffed duffel bags into the luggage compartment of the towering, chic black and white charter bus.

Struggling to weave your way through the bustling crowds of fellow trip attendees, consisting of mainly guys and specks of girls, you puff in a deep breath before picking up one bag on each hand and hustling through with all your might and diminishing courtesy. The task proves to be worse in terms of pleasantness than labor, for squatting down and searching for the smallest of a few square feet of free space while squinting your eyes against the smoke of hot, steaming gas and water vapor released from the roaring engine.

“Do you need help?”

The familiar honey-like base yet raspy edge to his voice strikes a sense of panic against your thumping chest. Is this a rise of excitement or is this a fight-or-flight defense mechanism against the threat before you?

Hesitantly turning around, you crane your neck to peer up at the one and only boy towering over you from above, an effort made in vain as all you manage to catch sight of is the black silhouette of his figure and the smug signature look of his all underneath the blinding sunlight his head so conveniently blocks.

“Or are you going to ogle and drool all over me while standing in everyone’s way?” Hoseok chortles. Your eyes follow his every move, too taken aback to move or respond. It’s been at least two weeks since you had last seen him and two weeks since… that had happened. Your lips burn and your first immediate response is to smack your hands right over them as if to cover the beet red of your cheeks and lips… or largely to prevent future advances. Hoseok only scoffs in response, smirking and squatting midway to strategically whisper into your ears, “we have lots of time to do that in the camp later, if you so want.”

“Excuse me?” you lean back as far as you can and gape, but he only squats down to your level before grabbing the bags of luggage from your hand.

“Don’t worry, I got this. After going through this entire process at least six times by now, you just gotta learn to…” his words are cut off by huffs as he forcefully pushes and tosses and squeezes bags further into the compartment before tossing his and your own along with them. “There,” he brushes his hands, “I don’t know what Jimin has been teaching them, but the new recruits seem to be awfully spoiled taking up so much space. This is boot camp, not vacation.”

“Thanks,” you say after chuckling.

“Is your gratitude exchangeable?” he asks, turning to cock his head to the side and revealing the structure of his jawline; and as much as you’d like to deny it, it takes every ounce of sheer willpower not to stare at him in awe.

“For what?” you’re barely able to utter. Hoseok stares at you in silence, dark eyes eating and drinking you up with each passing second, and that’s all you need to get the hint. The knot in your throat catches your silent gasp as you avert your gaze to the ground, cheeks burning, heart skipping, and lips throbbing. “I don’t know what you’re implying.”

“Oh, my bad, I forgot. Can’t corrupt my prude little princess just yet,” he muses, and you can just feel his sultry gaze piercing straight through your temple as he flashes you his charming damn crooked grin. Hoseok cocks his head in the direction behind the crowds of incoming baggage bearers, “go on. Your friends are waiting for you. I gotta help out here.”

“You sure you don't need any help?” you offer, standing upright to brush the invisible dirt off your lap.

Hoseok glances up at you and scoffs with the most teasing smirk possible. “Are you implying you're willing to help me? I'm thankful for the offer, your Grace, but I don't think standing there and checking me out is going to do us much good,” he laughs and throws a quick glimpse over at your friends with a lopsided smile. “I know I said this is camp and all, but you should at least have some fun now before it's too late.”

“...okay,” you hesitantly mumble, giving him a small wave and stumbling through the crowd once again to join your friends spectating from afar.

“What took you so long?” Junghwa ponders aloud, a small pout resting on her bottom lip as her foot impatiently taps against the floor.

“Sorry, the luggage compartment was almost full—”

“—wait, wait, wait, Y/N… was that Hoseok who helped you with your luggage over there?” Hani interjects with wide eyes, going on her tiptoes to confirm the back figure of said man just a few strides ahead. Not even a split second after, Junghwa’s eyes pop and the both of them turn in sync to stare at you with gaping mouths.

“No way,” Junghwa drawls. “Jung Hoseok? The ex dance captain? Your long time crush—”

“—keep your voice down,” you hiss before timidly glancing at the ground and twiddling your thumbs. “...maybe.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this, Y/N,” Hani utters, the drop of her jaw and the void in her voice conveying just how shocked she is from your sudden course of actions.

“I know right,” Junghwa jumps in, hooking her arms around Hani’s crossed ones. “I mean, dance camp? Basically a trip? With Hoseok?”

“It’s not only with Hoseok,” you articulate. “There’s at least twenty other people going with us.”

“Uhuh, right, but you won’t be paying attention to any of them except Hoseok, so it’s basically the same thing. How did you even manage to convince him to return?” Junghwa exasperates, a series of blabbering shortly follows before you hurriedly clasp your hand over her running mouth to muffle her words.

A few seconds of incoherent mumbling goes by before Hani taps you on the shoulder and chuckles, “okay, Y/N, any second longer and she’s going to faint.”

As much as most normal, rational human beings would opt for breathing through the nose than the mouth in situations like this, whether out of instincts or simple common sense, it’s also painfully obvious that Junghwa is unlike that of any other. All that’s on Junghwa’s head at the moment is getting her thoughts said and heard, and not even her very own being can top that priority. So pressing your lips, you figure Hani’s right—like always—and the well being of your best friend is more important than answering a few questions. Reluctantly and ever so slowly, you retract your hands from her lips, the absence of her voice’s vibration immediately leaving your hand empty of sensation.

The second your hands unclasp from her mouth, thus letting her words loose, Junghwa desperately gasps for air before, unsurprisingly, blurting out yet again in an all too ear-spitting manner, “or is he returning because of you? Did you make some sort of deal with him?! Y/N, why didn’t you tell us? You need to tell us—”

“—shh,” you hiss, immediately and strategically placing your middle finger against your lips to hush her back into silence. Eyes wide and alert, you hastily glimpse around to check for any possible bystanders dropping in on your conversation. When all coast is clear, everyone too busy chatting away with their friends and loading their additional luggage onto the bus, you shoot a death stare straight at your friend who gulps in terror. “Are you trying to turn this trip into hell before it even starts? I know it might come as a surprise to you, but I don’t want anyone spreading rumors about Hoseok and I!”

“I know,” Junghwa pouts and grabs ahold of your hand only to sway it side to side, as if to win you over with pity. “I’m sorry… I won’t do it again. I promise!”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“I swear I’m serious! Curiosity just got the best of me this time around,” Junghwa cheekily smiles. “If someone happens to hear us, I’ll treat you out for dinner. Better yet, I’ll confess to Jimin or anyone you want and make a fool of myself, yeah? Mm?”

“You don’t even like Jimin!” you refute, appalled by her lackluster offer.

“Oh, you know how she is, Y/N,” Hani laughs, rolling her eyes. “At least no one has ever really paid attention to her yelling. Plus, I really am curious as to why he’s back. How did you convince him to join today? I thought he always stayed at least a mile’s distance from anything related to dance.”

A hard thump hammers against your chest when the answer to her question echoes in your mind and rests on the tips of your tongue. A kiss. You exchanged his attendance this morning for a kiss; but there’s no way you’re going tell your friends something as embarrassing as that, especially seeing how they had taken the news of your previous dates with Hoseok. However, judging by how fervently your lips burn of the apparition of his soft lips pressed up against them, you convince yourself you’ve already given the answer away.

“Hey, we’re just about done here,” a familiar voice melts in your left ear like honey as a heavy arm swings over your shoulder and pulls you into his side. You glance up to find Hoseok raising a brow at your two friends, “oh, I’m sorry, but I don’t quite seem to recognize…”

His words trail off, and for some reason you think you can see a flash of the old dance captain resuming his courteous, welcoming ways; hence, unbeknownst to you, a smile gradually stretches across your lips. While you’re stuck in your reverie, Junghwa and Hani’s head snap towards each other, eyes widening and words failing to leave their gaping mouths as looks of admiration and awe oozes from the glistening windows to their souls. The ogling eyes of theirs nearly evokes a snort from the back of your throat, because finally, finally they can first-handedly witness the melting charms of Hoseok and actually understand the reasonings behind your recent irrational actions. But then their eyes dart to you once again, lips formulating silent threats and teeth gritting like a desperate call for your help.

As much as you’d like to blame your lack of a response to your friends’ plees solely on your short-lived trance of catching the returning glimpse of your long-time crush, a part of you just knows the truth lies in the satisfaction of observing the petrified look on your friends’ faces. Is this the look you had plastered all over your face when they made fun of you for your crush on Hoseok? Was this the mirror image of your state of panic when Junghwa nearly exposes your “relationship” with Hoseok to the entire class? Just recalling the pain your friends had put you through endorses you to sit back and relax as you watch karma do its work.

“...new recruits?” Hoseok chirps after a few seconds of silence, quirking a brow and flashing a clueless, lopsided grin. “Did Jimin actually manage to acquire new members while I was gone?”

“Actually no,” Hani quickly blurts, shaking her head violently, “we’re not a part of the club.”

“Oh?” Hoseok cocks his head, glimpsing at you in confusion before returning his eyes to Hani when you only stand in silent amusement. “Sorry, my bad. So what are you two lovely ladies doing here then?”

Did he just call them lovely? In front of you? With his arm wrapped around you and his recently numerous flirtatious advances on you? Even though you have no idea why you’re so irked in the first place, there’s something about his smooth, charismatic ways that tugs at your heartstrings in the rather painful manner for once.

Unbeknownst to you, a twitch of your face is evident enough to your friends and Hoseok for them to jolt in place, petrified over whatever fiery hazard scorches from within the vicinity of your glare. And unlike your friends who take a step back and glimpse at each other for help, the boy beside you only pulls you in even tighter until your head has nowhere to rest but against the calm, warm beats of his chest.

“Uh,” Junghwa utters, eyes popping when she notices Hoseok’s firming embrace.

“We’re just sending Y/N off,” Hani finishes her friend’s sentence and averts her panicked gaze back to you as you narrow your eyes at the audacity of Hoseok.

“Well that’s nice of you two. So that’s where Y/N gets it from,” he muses before continuing, “are you sure you two don’t wanna join? I’m sure we have enough space left to accommodate for you two.”

“Oh no, we couldn’t—

“—well actually, we wanted to but Y/N forced us not to because she was ‘embarrassed’ or something—ow!” Hani nudges her elbow straight into Junghwa before she can mutter another word.

Hoseok turns his head at you with warmth radiating from his dark chocolate orbs and the most suggestive of smirks tugging on the corner of his lips, “and what does that mean, Y/N?”

You freeze. You don’t know why or how or when, but for some reason your body’s immediate response to his gaze locking with yours is to drop everything and freeze. Heart panicking, hammering, and nearly stopping, you completely forget your friends are watching just a few feet away—

“—we didn’t bring any money for club dues and trip fees,” Hani quickly comes to the rescue, shooting you a subtle smile, and for once, you’re actually glad that your friends are here to support you in the wake of Hoseok’s impact.

“Oh, that’s fine. Any friend of Y/N’s is welcome with or without dues. I’d rather gain two new recruits than lose the opportunity to because of a few bucks or so. Plus, our club has more than enough funds to cover your fees for now,” he quips, cleverly interjecting before Hani can provide a rebuttal, “you don’t really think I’m letting you off the hook, do you? Nah, what kind of a captain would I be if I did that? You can pay me back afterwards.”

“That’s very kind of you, but…”

“...or your friend here can pay for you,” Hoseok smiles smugly, pointing his thumb to the side and at you. Traumatizing your lips and paying twenty five bucks to humiliate yourself for the sole sake of potentially watching Hoseok dance again were already too high of stakes to pay in the first place, so all you can do in response to his absurd suggestion is gawk at him in disapproval.

“She’s the last person who would do that,” Junghwa grumbles.

Hani nudges Junghwa once again, “I’m sure Y/N is going to have lots of fun at camp… although I do worry if she’s going to be alone—”

“—I’ll be fine—”

“—don’t worry, she’s in good hands,” Hoseok cuts in with a wide grin, arm firmly gripping your right shoulder and pulling you even closer into him.

“...what do you think you’re doing?” you finally mutter through gritted teeth. Your friends hesitantly exchange and dart glances between the two of you as they watch the narrowing of your death stare.

“What? This?” he pats his hands on the side of your arm and pulls you in once again, cocking a brow at you to feign innocence. “You didn’t seem to mind skinship last week? Or are you shy about PDA?”

Your jaw slacks open in sync with your friends. Did he really just say that? In front of your friends? So much for having fun and saving the embarrassment for later on in the trip.

“I don’t know what you’re saying…” you mutter, snaking your hand behind his back and tugging on his shirt to signal for him to stop… which he doesn’t.

“Oh c’mon, you couldn’t have forgotten already, Y/N!” Hoseok chimes, and his grin grows wider and wider as he watches your cheeks burn a brighter shade of red by the second. He cocks his head and begins listing the events of that night which still burns so fervently in the back of your mind, “fridge… bet… tabletop… ki...tchen.”

The second to last syllable nearly evokes a heart attack from your already weak condition, thousands of needles piercing straight through your chest as you glimpse at your friends; luckily for you, it seems like they haven’t caught onto anything yet, for they’ve never worn a more confused look than they are now.

Hoseok only grins in amusement before proceeding to his grand finale, “ki—hey!”

The smug look on his face is wiped and replaced by utter shock. He gawks at you with eyes wide and mouth open the second his brain registers the fact that you had just pinched him as hard as you could from the back.

“...kinda have to go help out Jimin and the others. Yeah, that’s what I meant to say,” Hoseok chuckles after a few seconds of bewilderment, turning to flash one last smile at your friends and waving them goodbye. “I’m sorry but I don’t believe I ever got your names…?”

Your two friends just stand there in what you’re unsure to make out as either fright for the scene that just played before them or in awe over the radiant sight of his killer smile—or perhaps, a mix of both. Hani’s slouched shoulders suddenly straighten upright the second she snaps back into reality and checks up on her friend, whom had failed to escape her trance. She stutters, “H-Hani, I’m Hani, a-and this is Junghwa.”

“Right. It was nice meeting you, Hani and Junghwa. I promise you I’ll look over Y/N, even if she refuses to accept my help and assaults me with acts of violence. And remember, I know it might be boring without me as the captain, but it’s never too late to join the club,” he sing-songs, voice velvety and soothing like always but his last statement leaves you frowning even more so than the former.

He’s resuming his role as the dance captain, and yet at the same time he’s rejecting the permanence of such a task and even foreseeing his absence in the near future. You know you’ve been too greedy and too needy for the fulfillment of your dreams, but somehow along the way you had lost sight of reality. While the past Hoseok brought you into cloud nine where things like stress and school were of trivial matters, the present Hoseok slams you straight back into reality where not everything always goes your way.

Only a comforting, firm pat against your right shoulder is enough to bring you out of your daze as you glance up to find Hoseok making his way to the bus with his front half turned towards you. “I know it’s hard to contain your excitement, but at least try to spend a few more minutes with your friends, Y/N. Don’t take too long though, or even I’ll have to leave you behind,” he quips, calling out to you before winking and biting his lips—as if trying to hint at something, no, you just know he’s hinting at that very thing which still doesn’t fail to flood heat into your cheeks—and turning his back on you to jog up the steps, disappearing behind the black tinted windows of the bus.

“I hate the living hell out of him. I hate the living hell out of him. I hate the living hell out of him,” you repeat, reminding yourself once again of the treacherous bet you had so regrettably made. Sighing, you turn to face your friends once again only to jump in place out of shock when your friends glare at you with the most dead eyes and stern frowns.

“Girl, you have a lot to explain when you get back,” Junghwa crosses her arms.

“...yeah, I know,” you timidly laugh, reclining as you scratched the back of your head when Junghwa continues to narrow her eyes at you for your lack of an explanation.

“That guy’s dangerous. I knew he was good looking, but wow, in person?” Hani shakes her head. “He knows his ways with words. Charming. Too charming. You better be careful, Y/N.”

“...yeah, don’t worry. I’m not a fool. I might’ve liked him before, but there’s no way I still do with him being like that now,” you mutter, and out of the blue, your only source of transportation roars in place behind you as if to remind you of the quickly approaching departure time. “Okay, I really have to go now.”

Despite how hard Junghwa had been staring at you, she does a complete 180 turn when she pounces on you along with Hani, “I’ll miss you so much. Don’t go! Don’t leave me for a man! But if you have to, at least tell us what happens!”

“Make sure to call us every night, okay?” Hani says before quickly adding, “and be careful! Don’t ever leave yourself alone with a boy like Hoseok!”

“Alright, alright,” you chuckle, words muffled as they nearly choke you in the bear hug. After what seems like eternity, you finally retract yourself from your nearly sobbing friends and wave them one last goodbye before running up the steps into the bus and away from the partially cloudy forecast of the morning.

Now the real torture begins; it's like highschool all over again—finding an empty seat without looking like a longer or bring too out of place.

“Sorry, this seat is reserved for someone,” you hear someone say in the deepest yet softest of tones.

Glancing over to the very back of the bus where the courteous voice had struck you as familiar, you find a girl apologizing to Hoseok before scampering forward to the seat next to whom you presume to be her friend. Word must've gotten out that the Jung Hoseok was making his return to dance with this camping trip, because whether for the better or worse, it doesn't take very long for the next girl to approach him.

“Oh my God, I can't believe you're actually back! I've always loved watching you practice!” the petite girl exclaims.

Hoseok presses a smile in response, “thanks.”

“Um… can I sit here if this seat isn't taken?”

“Sorry but I'm actually saving this seat for my friend,” he softly repeats himself, craning his neck up to give one last apologetic smile from his seat and to the standing girl.

Tch, lucky him, you scoff to yourself, being Mr. Popular With Girls must have its perks in social gatherings like this. People like you, on the other hand, have to deal with being on the worse end of the stick.

So you shuffle your way through the chattering cliques seated primarily at the front, never-minding the glaring open seat next to Hoseok as you make your way to just a few rows ahead of his in a successful search for another seat; but before you're even able to sigh in relief and plop into your temporary home for the next six hours, a hand clasps onto the crook of your elbows and grips your arm firmly enough to pull you into another seat. A yelp leaves your lips as you stumble backwards in a vain attempt to regain your footing, and before you even know it, you find yourself in another seat at the very back of the bus.

“This seat is actually reserved for you,” the one and only Hoseok coos, and your heart undeniably skips despite the roll of your eyes.

“I didn't ask for you to reserve it for me.”

“Ouch,” Hoseok winces, “was that you rejecting me or you rejecting my friendly gesture?”

You shrug in a fruitless attempt to suppress your smile, “perhaps both. No, definitely both.”

“Then what was that supposed to mean?” Hoseok gasps and places a hand over his chest. “Are you leading me on?”

You scoff, “what was what supposed to mean?”

“You know,” he leans in to whisper, “our ki—”

“— alright fine, I'll sit with you,” you interject and slump into your permanent seat with a loud sigh. “Now can you stop bringing that up.”

“To think that you'd play me like this... you're breaking my heart, Y/N,” he fakes a whimper and frowns, shaking his head. “But whatever makes you happy.”

You snort at the irony of his words. Who's the one playing who? “Oh, quit it, will you? If being around me hurts you so much, then why aren't you sitting with Jimin and them?”

“Actually, there's nothing I like better than spending my time with you. See, I'll prove it to you.” Without warning, Hoseok’s right engulfs your left in and places it straight against his chest. You're caught off guard, jumping in your seat and rocketing your pulse at an all time high, but what surprises you most is the irregular pacing of the thumps against your hand. Maybe it's just you and your hopeless imaginations, but for even a split second you'd like to think he's being the genuine self he used to be for once. “You know, I actually prefer sitting alone on these trips.”

“...why?” you're barely able to utter when you realize your hand is still trapped between the warmth of his chest and his hand.

“I like listening to my own music and going through the routines in my head. It helps me focus for camp,” he explains before turning to wink at you, “but I'll make an exception for you.”

“Why…?”

It must be something about the way his hand holds yours so firmly in place or the way you're just practically melting in the gaze of his warm brown eyes, because a question you already know the answer to slips right through your lips. He had promised your friends to take good care of you, didn't he? He had seen you wandering through the crowd and bus like some lost child, didn't he? Man, you really must have appeared to be quite pathetic enough for him to reach out to you like this. So with your eyes down at the ground and your ears shut, you prepare for the embarrassment ahead of you.

“Didn't I just explain it to you?” Hoseok says lowly, and you glance up in curiosity. Your chest constricts when your eyes trail up to meet his. Your insides melt at the sight of his soft, lopsided smile, and you can't help but mentally squeal when you realize that his unmoving gaze has been observing you all this time. Then he makes his final blow, “I like being next to you.”

Pressing your lips into what seems to be a half smile half frown, you slowly retract your hands from his and into your lap before turning to face straight forward where Hoseok is no where in sight. But despite your efforts to keep your pulse under control, there's really nothing you can do to stop your heart from nearly jumping out of your chest and prevent the adrenaline from running through your wrist to your stomach to your legs; for the rest of the ride, you find yourself distracted in one way or another.

First, you somehow find yourself sharing an earbud with Hoseok. He shares his favorite playlist of tracks to freestyle to, humming and counting to the beats, and even goes as far as to show you the tracks he plans to share with Jimin to use for the upcoming showcase. It's silly for you to extrapolate any meaning beyond the simple sharing of an earbud for the sole sake of killing time, yet you can't help but acknowledge the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach when you steal glimpses of your old crush as he walks you through the technicalities of a routine. He drones on and on for hours about a world close to him, a world of flow and deep appreciation which nearly no one but him could reach, however, even sitting there and being forced to listen to this boy who never ceases to tease you is enough to make this entire trip before it even begins. There’s something about the way passion just oozes from his eyes as he talks about the love of his life reminds you that this is the boy you fell for.

The second thing that keeps you on your toes is when you suddenly find yourself draped in his oversized sweater. It’s an all too familiar scene, a scene that has occurred one too many times, but it’s not like you had wanted it or hoped for it to happen… did you? Having forgotten how cold buses tend to keep the temperatures at, you had regrettably opted to stuff your one and only jacket into your bags—now thrown several dozens of feet under you—and unknowingly put yourself in this situation. 

While everyone around you continued to chatter and laugh at the most disruptive of volumes amongst themselves, completely undisturbed for they had jackets to protect them from the blasting AC, you were suffering in your chair trying to keep yourself from shivering and exposing yourself to the watchful Hoseok; but alas, he was and is always able to see right through you. Seeing you curled up into a ball, you had heard Hoseok half snorting half chuckling before removing his hoodie in one swift motion and plopping it straight onto your head. 

The sudden warmth of his worn sweatshirt resonates off your freezing cheeks, your bare nape of the neck, and down your shuddering back, but those newfound comforts aren’t enough to keep you from turning around to frown at him with furrowed brows questioning the intent behind such actions. He just smiles that smug smile of his before patting your head and remarking, “I don’t know if you’re actually cold or if you’re acting out to steal another one of my sweaters again, but you should put it on before you freeze to death. Can’t have any casualties under my watch, especially not you.”

The third and last thing you remember from the long bus ride, six hours of pain that for some reason you wish could’ve lasted forever, is the intoxicating scent of him radiating from the sweater engulfing you from within. Reclining in your seat, the collar of his sweater rises just enough to cover your neck, lips, and tip of your nose from the harsh winds circulating throughout the bus, but burying your nose in the inside of his cotton sweater only magnifies his clean, spice cologne mixed with the scent of home. You can’t believe you actually accepted his offer, but what petrifies you even more is the fact that you might just pass out right in front of Hoseok. As if witnessing the return of the ex dance captain isn’t enough, sitting right next to him with your arms brushed against his and an ear sharing the same set of headphones while wearing and drowning yourself in his scent is like the ultimate blow against your weak heart.

Subconsciously, you mumble aloud—whether to yourself or to Hoseok, you don’t know—and squeeze your heavy eyelids shut to black out everything around you, “I feel really light-headed for some reason…”

You can’t see him with your eyes closed, but the shuffling beside you allows you to envision him scooting closer and leaning forward to check up on you with worry plastered all over the frown on his face. “Are you okay? Are you still cold? Or do you need to take some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine. I just need to… take a nap—hey,” you nearly yelp when you feel his rough, warm hand cupping your right cheek to gently push your head onto his shoulders. Your eyes shoot wide open and your heart rate escalates as you scan through the bus for any witnesses. Finally, when all coast is clear, you hiss, “what’re you doing?”

“Go ahead. Nap,” he instructs, patting your cheek before leaning his own head against the top of yours. “Don’t worry, we’re in the back. No one’s going to see.”

Even in the blizzard that is the blasting AC, your cheeks never fail to burn a bright shade of red as every inch of contact between your body and his begins to flush of heat and thrill. You want to pull away, to deny the indisputable comfort of his shoulders, but you’re simply too tired to argue. So before you know it, pitch blackness surrounds you and the yells of the others drown into the background where the sound of Hoseok’s counting and humming echoes akin to that of the night where you had first introduced yourself to Hoseok long ago.

-

You are dreaming, right?

No, this must be a dream; because the very first thing your still blurry, half-asleep mind comes to register—that is, after gathering your bags and settling into your temporary room before leaving for the welcoming event like a zombie—is the fact that the Jung Hoseok is standing in front of the dance studio and leading tonight’s practice.

The studio lights hanging from the high ceilings above give off warm, yellow edges to your already blurry vision. The cleanly waxed wooden floor squeaks with every sharp step of his as he gives a quick demonstration to the daily stretching routine every member must undergo before practice. Decked out in the all too familiar, albeit retired, attire of his—black sweater, black joggers, and black pair of sleek sneakers with the occasional headband he had opted out of tonight—you simply can’t believe your eyes. This is everything you’ve been dreaming for. You just want to see him dance again, and here he is… closer to dancing than he has ever been in the last year.

It’s all too surreal. Really, your gut instincts tell you this is all too surreal to believe in.

“I know this isn’t the exciting stuff I’m sure everyone of you came here for,” he sarcastically remarks, and you wonder if he’s well aware of the real reason for the spike of female recruits attending this camp for the sake of meeting him, “but it’s important that you learn how to properly stretch and prepare your body for the impact that comes with dancing.”

“How long are we going to be stretching, Hoseok?” a girl whines.

It takes everything in you not to scowl at the girl for her interjection. While you’ve risked everything from your dignity to your sanity to get to experience this first-hand, she’s piggybacking off of your efforts only to threaten the slim opportunity that you’ll even get to see Hoseok dance again in the first place.

Hoseok continues stretching, neither affected nor amused by her remark before lowly stating, “a few minutes goes a long way.”

“Yeah, but we want to dance,” a boy calls out.

“We want to see you dance,” another girl adds.

God, any second longer now and you swear you’re going to cuss them out; do they want to see him dance or not?

“You won’t be saying that when you pull a muscle,” Hoseok simply states, switching to stretch his other leg before shooting a stern look at the rows and columns of students lined up and following his every move. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him more irked than this, because a chill runs down your spine the second you find the darkening of his eyes settling on one particular girl only to threaten and etch his next two words into the back of her mind for the rest of eternity, “trust me.”

You figure dance practice really must be a serious matter to him, because you’ve never seen him go so long without cracking a joke or even comforting a student he had accidentally rebuked—which is odd now that you think about it, since that’s the exact opposite of what he had been known for back in his days as the captain; but maybe you just didn’t know him well enough in the past, perhaps his passion for dance is much stronger and takes a much more different approach than you had observed on the surface level.

It’s not exactly a turn-off per say, because you do find his passion honorable in every way, but there’s something about the frown on his ever-so-slightly downturned lips and the crease between his brows that tells you something is off. Does he actually despise dance as much as he had claimed? Your mind wanders off wondering if bringing him here is the right decision after all.

“Y/N, if you want to see me dance, then you better not space out.”

You’re thrown straight out of your trance when your head snaps up to find Hoseok staring straight at you.

“We’re on the right leg now,” he presses a smile, cocking his head at the fact that you’re still stretching your left arm. Your entire face turns red as you hastily plop yourself down to the ground and stretch your left before your right leg out in front of you. Hoseok only snorts, “alright, because of Y/N, we’re just going to hand this off to Jimin to teach you the choreo now. I have something else to do.”

“What?!”

“No, you can’t do that!”

“You promised you’d be leading tonight’s session!”

A dozen protests come tumbling from the students, a majority of them being female fans, but then all eyes start glaring at you as if you’re the actual reason Hoseok is skipping out on the actual dance portion of the practice. You nearly jump in your seat, wanting to dig a hole for you to hide yourself in when everyone throws you a few death stares. To be honest, you’re completely satisfied with seeing Hoseok even associating himself with the dance club right now, but it seems like others had a separate standard of satisfaction than you.

Hoseok intently observes the scene playing out between you and the girls before clearing his throat and sighing, “on second thought, I have a few minutes to spare.”

You can hear a collective gasp echo throughout the room. A loud cheer then erupts, and you actually find yourself smiling at his announcement despite being the most hated person in the room for a split second.

“But I’m only introducing the simple parts tonight,” he adds and a mixed reaction filled with cheers and whimpers follow shortly afterwards.

Was he going out of his way to indulge in an activity you know he’s been avoiding all too well in order to save you from the others? Or was he doing this because he genuinely had a change of heart? You figure the questions don’t matter at this point, because you’re beyond ecstatic. You might not agree in the methods others had attempted to utilize in pushing him back into his role as the captain, but you do agree in terms of the end goal point. Just seeing him lead a group through stretches is enough to make this entire trip, but seeing him lead a group through actual routines and choreographs? You think you’re on cloud nine. You’re selfish for pushing him into something he claims to despise to the very bone, but after calling you out and teasing you in front of everyone, you like to think you deserve at least this.

You just want to see him dance again, and nothing else matters but that.

-

Hoseok was serious when he said he was only teaching the most simple of choreographs, because even you were able to get through it all without tripping or falling or spacing out like you usually would. After just five minutes or so, he was prepared to switch out with Jimin when Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook ultimately decided on ending the first day of practice early and heading off to dinner.

So here you are, somehow finding yourself seated across where Hoseok had sat just a few minutes prior before excusing himself from the table and next to the rest of his old group of friends.

“Where did Hoseok go?” Jungkook finally questions, stuffing himself with one or two potstickers.

“Probably went back to his room,” Jimin shrugs. “He doesn’t seem to be in a good mood today.”

“Do you know why…?” you hesitantly ask and finish the last speck of food on your now empty plate.

“No idea,” the boy you learn to be Namjoon quips. “Maybe he’s just tired and not used to camp anymore.”

“Maybe,” you mumble, pursing your lips when the image of the irritated look on Hoseok’s face before he left dinner early. Placing your plate and utensil onto the table, you push your chair back and stand upright, “I think I’m going to head back to my room now.”

“Already?” Jimin’s eyes widen, neck craning to look up at you in surprise.

“Yeah, my legs are already so sore from practice.”

“You know we have a complimentary pass to the spa at this resort, right?” Taehyung adds.

“Oh?” you’re genuinely intrigued by the idea of soaking in a hot tub after hours of being drenched in sweat.

“Yeah, feel free to use that if you’d like,” Jimin grins. “I’d go now before everyone heads there after dinner.”

“Alright, thanks. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then!” you wave them goodbye before skipping off to your room to change into your bathing suit and happily scampering to the paradise that waits for you at the spa…

...unfortunately for you, that paradise doesn’t turn out to be quite what you had envisioned it to be, for the fact that it’s a public spa and not a private one reserved for you hits you right in the face when you see him sitting right there in the pool of water in front of you.

“It seems like fate really wants us to be together,” Hoseok quips, the absence of playfulness and effort in his usual teasing raising a question of worry from you once again.

“Psh, as if,” you scoff, turning around and ready to march off in the other direction if he hadn’t interjected.

“It’s okay, I’ll leave and you can stay if you’re that shy about seeing me half naked,” he rises from the water, and your mind goes completely blank when they register his words.

You weren’t even thinking about seeing his bare chest, but now that he’s mentioned it, that’s all your eyes can even see. His abdomens are as toned and defined as you had imagined them to be for an ex-dancer, and they’re just as tan and smooth as honey which matches the tone of his sun-kissed skin. You don’t know if it’s the steam of the water which causes your cheeks to burn for the hundredth time today, but something about the accuracy in his statement challenges you to rebuke his claims.

So instead of denying nor accepting his offer, you plop down into the euphoric heat of the water and submerge yourself until your chin hits the surface of the water. “No, it’s fine. You can stay or leave. It doesn’t matter to me because your body is the last thing I’m thinking about.”

“Really? Doesn’t seem like it when you just stared at me for a good minute or two,” Hoseok coos, sitting back down with his arms resting on either side of the circular pool. “So, what you up to?”

“Sitting in here and trying to get a good hour of relaxation for once.”

“Whoa, my bad,” he raises his hands defensively with a slight chuckle. “Sassy as always, I see.”

You know you said you wanted an hour of relaxation, but the minutes of silence that follows shortly after is deafening. It’s odd for it to be so quiet around Hoseok, the Jung Hoseok who always teased you to your nerves’ ends. Something is most definitely odd about tonight. You don’t know when it started or how it started, but it’s the things that he chooses not to partake in rather than partake in that startles you. Maybe tonight he had started to dance again, but there are countless other things he had sacrificed in return.

He’s no longer as lively, playful, and easy going as he used to be. While the past Hoseok had been a combination of all these traits even with the passion and dedication for dance, this is yet another reminder to you that this isn’t the same boy you had loved; but even so, even if this person isn’t the one you so wish for the return of, you can’t help but worry for the boy you’ve actually come to know.

“...I’m happy to see you dancing again,” you finally say. Hoseok lowers his head and gaze from the night sky to look at you—neither surprised nor intrigued, just empty. Your brows furrow at the lack of a reaction and you quickly add, “is something wrong?”

“What makes you ask that?” the monotonous tone in his voice only pushes you further.

“Just answer the question. You’re acting… strange... today. Ever since practice,” you shake your head and frown. “Is it because of dancing? Should I not have forced you to come?”

“You didn’t force me to come. You didn’t force me to do anything,” he says before looking off to the side; the harsh edge in his voice tugs at you in the most aching way you had never known to be possible with someone like the current Hoseok.

“Fine, if you’re gonna be like that, then let’s play a game. You like games, don’t you? That’s the only way I can ever get you to talk or open up or do anything,” you retort and Hoseok only raises a brow. “We’ll take turns asking each other questions. If the other fails to answer to our satisfaction, and you have to be honest, then we get to do whatever we want with the other.”

“Y/N wants to play games? Am I dreaming?” Hoseok cocks a brow.

“Trust me, I feel like I’m the one dreaming. It’s not like I want to play games, especially not with you, but it seems like it’s the only way I can get you to talk,” you say, shaking your head. “Okay, I’ll start first then. Tell me what’s going on. Why are you so upset? Is it something that I did?”

“That’s more than one question, Y/N.”

“Okay, fine,” you scoff. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“No,” he simply answers, eyes looking straight at you before adding more to complete his answer, “well, maybe a little. I don’t know how I can answer that accurately when even I’m not sure. You’re not the main reason, but now that you have become a part of the reason, I guess it only adds to the fire.”

That’s the most vague answer you had ever heard in your life, but to be fair, you had only asked him whether or not you had done something to upset him. He isn’t obligated to answer what you had done, and plus, the intense look in his eyes warns you to better play by the rules.

“Alright, fine. Good enough. You pass. Your turn.”

His fingers tap against the poolside, but his piercing eyes never leave yours.

After what seems like an eternity of silence, he speaks, “are you happy to see me dancing again?”

You frown and raise a brow, “of course…? Yes, I’m beyond ecstatic—”

—your words are cut off when he stands upright and takes one large stride to the other end of the pool where you sat, and the next thing you know, his lips smashes into yours. And unlike the last kiss you had shared with him, this one is much more forceful. He’s impatient, he’s twisting and turning and pushing like he’s running out of time, his hands snake to wrap around your back and pulls you in until the two of you are chest-to-chest.

Somehow, you manage to pull away for a split second, “Hoseok, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m dissatisfied with your answer, Y/N,” he states before pushing you into him once again and collides his lips with yours.

Your head is dizzy and you can barely get enough oxygen each time he pulls away for a split second to give you some time to breathe, but there’s something about the haste in his movements, the impatience in his pulls and pushes, and the look in his eyes that’s screaming for help that tells you this kiss isn’t about passion or lust or anything like that; it’s about desperation and the most twisted way to express the sorrow that resides with him. And even though he isn’t playing by the rules of the game, there’s a part of you that sympathizes with him, for your heart drops at the mess of emotions his wet, sloppy kiss conveys to you.

Maybe he isn’t answering your questions with words, but there’s no doubt that he’s opening up to you more than he ever has before.

Finally, you put a hand against his chest and push him an arm’s distance away before managing to say in the midst of heavy breathing, “I don’t get it, Hoseok. I’m confused. You’re acting out. You’re… different.”

“How is this any different from the last time I kissed you?” he refutes with knotted brows.

“No, there’s something wrong,” you shake your head. “What’s wrong, Hoseok? Please, just let me help you.”

“Then answer my question correctly,” he says, calling out to you as he watches you get up and depart from the poolside. “That’s all you can do right now.”

“Am I happy to see you dancing again?” you repeat the question, grabbing and wrapping a towel around you from a table. “I don’t know… not if this is how you’re going to act, then no, I’m not. But I was happy to see you so immersed in dancing again earlier today. I just want to know if… you’re happy...?”

Something flickers in the dark ditch within his eyes, and after a long deafening silence, he finally answers.

“Yeah…” he finally answers with his eyes at the other side of the pool where you had just sat before drowning himself back into the pool, “I guess I’m happy too.”

[bibliocratic]

jon and sasha

part of a series of archive polycule oneshots

“Blue,” Jon declares triumphantly.

He sets his incomplete circle of pie pieces down harder than necessary in his eagerness. The TV remote nearby gives a plasticky rattle.

Sasha leans forward from where she’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, the space cleared where the bandy-legged coffee table usually sits to accommodate the board. She wobbles like a bowling pin as her fingers strain and scrabble before her long arms reach, and she grasps another card from the box, recovering her balance to rock back to seated.

They don’t get to play this often. Neither Tim nor Martin will play with them; apparently, they’ve been accused of getting too competitive on occasion. But Tim’s out with some uni mates, probably winding down a pub crawl which has ended two bars in because they’re all skint and there’s no point in moving once you’ve snagged good seats somewhere growing crowded. Martin had joined the two of them for a bit earlier when they were channel-hopping between Gogglebox and a Marvel film on Film 4, but he’d gone to bed early, planning on taking an early train to Devon in the morning. Now, here the two of them were, both on five pieces out of six with one more to go, and Sasha refuses to be beaten.

She takes another sip from an overloaded gin and tonic and reads out the trivia question on the card.

“What is the capital of Switzerland?”

“Aha!” Jon’s face is flushed and smug. “Geneva.”

He goes to take a victory swig of the beer that’s surely gone room temperature in the time he’s been nursing it and reaches out to claim his final piece.

“Nope!” Sasha makes certain to pop the ‘p’, knocking his hand away and grinning as she sing-songs. “My go!”

“What, no! It’s Geneva. The capital city of Switzerland.”

“It’s not.”

“Course it is!”

“Better luck next time, Jonny boy!” Sasha crows, and casts the die in her hand. The number’s too high to land on the square she wants, and she curses, but she’s distracted by Jon, who is looking grumpy and argumentative and going for his phone. She grabs it away.

“Look, let me look it up,” he protests, and he’s moving closer, shuffling nearer to her. His jaw set in that way he gets when he’s sure he’s absolutely right.

He tries to take his phone back, but she holds it up high and out of his reach.

“That’s cheating, we said no phones.” Jon lunges again and he almost knocks her back. “You’re a complete cheat! Jon!”

Jon leans in as though to kiss her, but it’s an obvious distraction ploy, and she pushes his mouth away with a giggle, and shoves the phone into her pocket. Jon attempts to retrieve it, and she shrieks and flails back, intensely ticklish which he knows, the arse, and he relents when she kicks at him and says “Would you – stop it! We’ll wake Martin! Shhh, we’ll wake him!”

Jon huffs, but his petulance is short lived as he leans back next to her, angled up by his elbows, the fight drained out of him like water through a sieve. He takes another sour-faced sip.

“What was it then?”

“Huh?”

“Sasha.”

“Bern.”

“What?”

“The capital of Switzerland. It’s Bern, not Geneva.”

“Huh,” Jon says, sounding surprised, and she can almost hear the sound of him filing the fact away in his brain.

Sasha gestures with a lazy hand to the board and pieces she upended with her kicking.

“You want to keep playing?”

“I think we can safely say you won,” Jon replies, though he doesn’t sound like he minds so much any more. He moves himself again, because he’s even more fidgety with a drink in him, and reads out the first card he manages to find.

“What is the largest internal organ of the body?” he asks her.

“Thought we were finished?” she replies, but still, she makes a humming noise. “Liver?”

“Bingo.”

She takes a card from the box offered to her.

“How many noses does a slug have?”

It’s no longer competitive. They trade questions and answers idly, flicking through to find random cards, questions that pique their interest, that they think will stir the slow-moving waters of their late night conversation. Jon leaning at her side, partially against her like a tree gradually bending in the breeze, is a straight line of indolent heat. Sasha gets to the bottom of the glass of paint stripper she’s been suffering through – it was Martin’s, which he didn’t finish before he retired, and he always goes too heavy on the sprits for her taste whenever he makes them.

“Ok. Most dangerous animal in the UK?” she asks.

“Based on what?”

“Fatalities.”

“Hmm. Ok. Um… stags? We don’t have any wild boars anymore, do we, and there’s not exactly any wolves roaming the headlands…. Soooo, yes. Stags.”

“Cows.”

“No.”

Sasha’s grabbed her phone and is checking anyway.

“Apparently so. 2015 survey, seventy odd people over fifteen years.”

Jon raises an eyebrow.

“It’s not exactly the box jellyfish, is it?”

Sasha hums in agreement.

“I think there’s some cursed cow skin in Archive Storage.”

“Oh?”

“Can’t remember what it does exactly.”

“One would hope it doesn’t turn you into a cow.”

“Oh, one would, would one?” Sasha mimics Jon’s accent, giving it a regal snobbery, and he shoves at her shoulder with his.

“Here,” he says, passing over his can. “Help me finish this?”

“Not a fan?”

“It’s one of Tim’s IPAs from the fridge. I’m not convinced.”

Sasha dutifully takes a swig and finds it a marked improvement on what she’s been working her way through.

“You think there’s any drinking songs about IPAs?” she asks.

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve got… um Mistletoe and Wine, and Red, Red Wine, and they’re about, er….”

“Methylated spirits.”

“Wine, smartarse.”

Jon makes a thoughtful sound.

“Whiskey in the Jar,” he responds after a minute.

“Good one. I’m pretty sure… isn’t there a Kiss song about gin?”

“Cold Gin.”

“That’s the one. Oh! I know!” Sasha’s moving then, her limbs more sluggish than they were before, tugging her headphones out of her pocket and untangling them. “There’s that – er, Finnish band – ah, Christ, what are they called – and they’ve got, like, heaps of songs named after alcohol.”

That rabbit hole of questioning leads down into music for a while, and they sit with their heads touching so they can both use the headphones, listening to snippets of drinking songs.

“Give this one a listen,” Sasha says.

“What is it?”

“Just listen, would you?”

Jon, if anything, gets even more intense when he’s got drink in him, so he listens through the song with a furrowed brow.

“it’s… different.”

“It’s called math rock. Martin put me onto it. It’s all about like time signatures or something.”

Jon snorts and says, “That sounds exactly like something Martin would listen to” (and oh, she thinks with mild but not revelatory surprise at the way Jon has said that like an endearment, and looking at Jon’s face, she wonders if he’s realised it yet himself), before he’s heavy-handedly typing something into the search bar, backspacing repeated to correct the errors made by his imprecise fingers before he presses play.

She winces at the volume as the music starts aggressively loud.

“What is this?”

“Pirate metal.”

“No way.”

“Uh-huh.”

She watches him, his head nodding off-tempo to the raucous beat, and she mimics the motion, feeling him slide down further against her, his head cushioned against her shoulder.

“Neat.”

[diyeoracha]

fanfic recommendations

for @kittensocute bc i heard “atsukita” and “iwaoi” in reference to fanfiction and i am There

i took your “i love slow burn or slow build fics... so i like relatively shorter burn fics (20-30k). If its a 10k oneshot slow burn hELL SIGN ME UP” and absolutely ran with it.

i listed my fav iwaoi fics (17) with a longer word count (longest is 80k) that are all mostly either canon compliant or divergent with only two straight up AUs. none of them feature heavy nsfw content and most if not all are tagged as friends to lovers lmao. feel free to read the my thoughts or just go into them blind!! and they’re all in order of how much I absolutely adore them :^)

now atsukita is not a big ship *sobs* but here are some of my favorite fics (7) of them! a lot of them are shorter bc i guess that’s just. what happens when it’s a small ship LOL. 

the formatting in this is fucked if you open it from ur dash but if it’s on my actual blog it should be fine!

Iwaoi

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle

Word count: 66k

thoughts: my absolute absolute absolute favorite iwaoi fic. the characterization, the fact that oikawa’s a bastard but because he and iwaizumi are older (late 20s i believe), it feels more realistic and sad rather than oikawa being a bitch for the sake of it. spoiler alert it’s slow burn and pining and mostly oikawa not realizing his feelings. this world building is pretty cool bc iwaizumi is the professional player while oikawa is an entomology professor! also i love non-linear narratives bc of This fic. there’s mutual pining in this fic but it’s really really really subtle to the point where you dont even know if oikawa likes iwa. this made me cry like twice.

sunset towns

Word count: 33k

Summary: In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

thoughts: the tone in this is So similar to the courtship ritual that I liken this as an alternate story even though it’s still oikawa’s pov. professional player oikawa and regular guy iwaizumi and oikawa is just. bumming around at iwaizumi’s place and naturally he messes up but things happen.

told before and told again

word count: 4k

thoughts: i looked through literally all the tags i could’ve thought of for this and nearly cried when i found it agian. outsider POV!!

In damp earth my body

Word count: 15k

Summary: Onscreen, the nation’s favorite setter has arranged himself so that he’s bowing, forehead pressed to the court, like he’s thanking everyone for their kindness thus far, like he’s asking for forgiveness. Hajime thinks: shit, it’s really happening

thoughts: oikawa retires and moves in with iwaizumi and they blur the line between roommates/best friends and being fwb. this is an iwaizumi pov and the pining is obvious on his end. as a iwa stan the tone made me feel weird bc it makes it seem like iwa cares more abt oikawa than he cares abt himself but. its a good fic

i grew up, you grew down

word count: 19k

thoughts: this is also SO funny bc basically oikawa retires and moves in with iwaizumi and becomes his stay at home wife and a bunch of shit happens like people think that oikawa is dating ushijima and oikawa basically loses it every time. here’s one of my favorite quotes:

“Oikawa also bought a new ultra-strength vacuum cleaner he’d decided to name Ushiwaka out of sheer spite, because it sucked all the air right out of the room. Iwa-chan didn’t think the joke was that funny when Tooru told him, which was frankly very hurtful and insensitive.”

Mint

Word count: 19k

thoughts: iwaizumi is moving and oikawa planned a perfect last hangout and it goes to shit featuring matsuhana. oikawa pov where he pines more than iwa which is something i can get behind!! and this was written in 2015 and iwa’s moving bc of a sports medicine program so iwaizumi stans know and love him sm ;;

Almost a Stranger

Word count: 16k

thoughts: same premise as mint LOL except they’re on a trip together and there’s more non-linear narrative!! this one is a little more mature in tone than mint i would say (funny how people just like splitting them up and throwing them in different countries huh)

with every second that you could give

Word count: 9k

Summary: The journey of Iwaizumi and Oikawa going for gold.

Quote: He knows they’re too close. Iwaizumi knows it too, and they both decided to move in together anyway.

thoughts: iwaoi roommates and they’re both obviously and really pine-y for each other and everyone sees it but them. srsly. they’re sleeping in the same bed. like my god

Lost in Translation

Word count: 9k

Summary: Because misfortune come in threes, Iwaizumi Hajime starts his Thursday having a screaming fight with Shittykawa, spends his lunch break listening to the UCI women’s volleyball team gossiping about how Ushijima Wakatoshi had gone public about his longtime love affair with Oikawa Tooru, and closes out the day by drunkenly dropping his phone into a sewer grate.

thoughts: so funny. so sososoosso genuinely funny. the tone is so snappy and iwaizumi honestly just sounds like a confused teenager (which he is in this) and it gets extra points for including a lot of american culture that a lot of the other iwaoi college au ones don’t include for like. obvious reasons lol.

Something Borrowed

Word count: 16k

Summary: In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been a foregone conclusion to everyone else, but a massive, unanswered question to one another.

thoughts: iwaoi roommates thats abo but it’s like. mentioned twice. whiny and possessive oikawa makes an appearance in this but it’s done really well

things that change, things that stay the same

Word count: 8k

Summary: Oikawa realizes he’s in love with his best friend; it sucks for a while. (But only for a little while.)

thoughts: high school getting together!! my second iwaoi fic ever and this one is just. so sweet. just an unsure oikawa realizing iwaizumi might be more than someone he wants as a best friend. this fic is honestly really really lovely.

galaxies, within you

Word count: 21k

Summary: Hajime and Tooru move in together at the start of university. Too bad they’re stuck with the two gremlins that haunt their apartment.

thoughts: ok this fic was so funny. theyre uni roommates and matsuhana just come fuck shit up and they all act like idiots together even though they go to different schools. and this really throws me back to university days.

Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad)

Word count: 19k

thoughts: pro! oikawa and iwaizumi haven’t been close for a while until oikawa invites iwaizumi to go to the games with him. there’s a lot of frustration and pining and actually talking about feelings (aka iwaizumi losing his mind and getting advice from people like akaashi)

when it starts to rain, they go inside

Word count: 33k

Summary: “Where?” starts Iwaizumi.“ My parent’s old lakehouse, silly, didn’t you hear me the first time?” OR: Oikawa takes Iwaizumi to his lakehouse for two weeks, post-graduation.

thoughts: this was actually my first iwaoi fic which is funny bc the author doesn’t even like oikawa much and i didnt even ship anything in haikyuu before i read this fic and now im in iwaoi hell. oikawa is really frustrating in this in that it’s basically a really good character analysis on how oikawa comes off as a Mean person all the time bc he’s manipulative and there’s some explicit content

shiver

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa was always the brave one. Hajime just followed two paces behind.

thoughts: iwaoi roommates with oikawa admitting his feelings first back when they were in middle school and iwaizumi putting that thought on the backburner until. obviously. things happen.

Desperado

word count: 80k

thoughts: one of my favorite aus. it’s all from kyoutani’s perspective and it’s almost so au that they’re original characters (if that makes sense). basically iwaoi matsuhana are ex-grifters except iwaoi are estranged and daishou somehow brings everyone back together. excellent world building and reading the pov from someone not involved with the iwaoi drama was refreshing

sing with me a song of conquest and fate

word count: 26k

thoughts: a mythical kings au that’s just. so pretty. iwaizumi ends up becoming oikawa’s servant for some reason and the world building is a+ because you can feel the trust and frustration from both of them build

Atsukita

dreams of me and you

word count: 10k (incomplete)

my second atsukita fic that rly sent me down atskt hell ;; what is essentially post-break up when atsumu gets signed to msby and he’s just Pining and sad for the most part. but the established relationship pre-break up was written really nicely because it just fits my hc of them just being domestic and atsumu being blatantly head over heels

take me home

word count: 4k

i read this this morning and it wrecked me. domestic relationship atsukita?? sign me up

No time like the rest of my life

word count: 19k

mythology au with kita as a regular person and rest of inarizaki as fox spirits! it’s cute and the world building is absolutely lovely but it is an au so they might seem ooc but their core character values are still there

wild blue yonder

word count: 6k

literally full of similes and metaphors and it’s more of an abstract read i guess? but it’s so beautiful and soft and this is exactly how i imagine their relationship

reap and sow

word count: 8k

atsumu confesses and kita ignores him and it’s a couple years after the fact and it’s mostly just weirdly domestic almost roommate like except for the fact that atsumu makes it clear he likes kita LOL. they’re really in character for this!

weightless souls

word count: 2k

pillow talk before atsumu’s first game! the atsumu pov and voice is amazing

if we were both alone

word count: 7k

now this was actually my first atskt fic that sent me down this rare pair hell. it’s an explicit chat fic (both tropes i usually try to avoid) but atsumu types like me (except for the nsfw parts alksfjd) so i guess i like. feel appreciation LMAO.

if you do read like any of these fics pls let me know so we can discuss

♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡

[sparkles-and-trash]

Modern ATLA AU Headcanons Meme

Reblog this post, and your own answers!

I love myself some modern AU's, and I love how different they all are, so, I made this so we can all share, and feel free to add characters if you want, and just not do any of these if the character isn't important to you!

General:

Bending? Yes! Always!

Monarchy? Nope

Our world or theirs? Their's all the way

Animals? Boring ones from our world, it's what I know the best lol

Aang:

Tattoos? yes, always, and I keep the inspired by the ones in the movie (the movie is awful but the tattoos are cool and actual rl inspired?

Home life/family/upbringing? I usually go with him being raised by Monk Gyatso, and keep everything else kind of vague

Major/job? I go back and fourth, but I like him as a tattoo artist, or as a vet, anything with animals, or as a nurse, preferably a pediatric nurse!

Hobbies? Skating, in any form, yoga, meditation, painting and art

Vegetarian or Vegan? I think he's be cruelty free as far as it's possible

Appa and Momo? Big, fluffy rescue dog and small, shifty cat

personality compared to canon? Pretty similar, maybe a tad less traumatized considering the war didn't happen, but he's still the Avatar, and he still suffered great loss very young

how long have they've known the Gaang? Toph since always, water sibs since middle- or high-school, Zuko either middle school or uni, spending on the story, Suki in high school when she dates Sokka

some random headcanon(s)? he doesn't drink, but he does occasionally enjoy some ouíd at parties or when others drink

Katara:

Home life/family/upbringing? Their mother died when they were really young, and Hakoda married his lifelong best friend, Bato. They're generally a happy family.

Major/job? I love doctor Katara, and vet Katara, but also Katara in Politics, working hard making the world a better place!

personality compared to canon? Extremely similar, kind, brave, not afraid to speak her mind, awkward in certain situations, a pesky but loving younger sister, etc.

how long have they've known the Gaang? meets Aang and Toph early high school, Suki pretty fast after, Zuko late high school or uni

Hobbies? Sporty, likes to play all sports but doesn't do any seriously, swimming, surfing, writing, reading

some random headcanon(s)? she very good in school, but she's not a goody-two-shoes, she likes a good party as much as anyone

Sokka:

Home life/family/upbringing? Their mother died when they were really young, and Hakoda married his lifelong best friend, Bato. They're generally a happy family.

Major/job? I always like him as some type of engineer, but anything clever and creative is cool!

personality compared to canon? Similar, but maybe a little less... insecure? in that he never had to protect for his entire Tribe very young, and he did very well in school and had lots of talent, but also he has enough struggles to not be a dick? Extremely competitive and protective tho.

how long have they've known the Gaang? meets Aang and Toph early high school, starts dating Suki soon after, Zuko late high school or uni

Hobbies? Surfing in summer, skating, always, drawing and painting, gaming

some random headcanon(s)? has ADHD, is a bi-king, very comfortable with that, and is somehow good friends with all of his exes

Zuko:

Home life/family/upbringing? Similar to canon, just a modern rich asshole version of Ozai, who's either a huge criminal or just inherited a lot of money, Ursa out of the picture, Iroh as caretaker from a young age, but still lived kinda sheltered and was very lonely in his kid and teen years

Major/job? I like tons of stuff for him, either him managing a Jasmin Dragon, preferably with him adding a book café, but also a writer, photographer or tattoo artist

personality compared to canon? very similar, but since I usually write them uni aged or older, he's more mature? But he does still have some anger management issues, can be oblivious to social settings, awkward, brash and has very little knowledge of some basic stuff due to growing up rich. But he's also very loyal, loves his friends so much, and wants everyone to be okay, all the time.

how long have they've known the Gaang? Aang either middle school or late high school, Toph from a young age, and the others either late high school or uni.

Hobbies? Writing, photography, reading, fan fiction, musical nerd, bad gamer

Scar story? Ozai, in some way, preferably when Zuko speaks against something evil he did in front of the wrong people, so similar to canon

some random headcanon? used to have a pretty bad stutter, and even tho it's almost not noticeable anymore, he's very insecure about it

Toph:

Home life/family/upbringing? Extremely sheltered, barley got to go to public school, snuck out a lot, moves out the second she can and has a tense relationship with her parents

Major/job? I never know tbh, so many possibilities, but I like her as some sort of teacher, either in earth bending, or martial art!

personality compared to canon? Pretty much similar as canon? Loud, unapologetically herself, fiercely protective over her friends, funny af

how long have they've known the Gaang? Toph and Aang since childhood, water sibs since early high school

Hobbies? passionate about good music, is a talented drummer, knows piano from childhood, is a fairly popular youtube gamer/streamer

some random headcanon? demiromantic bisexual, she teaches Zuko how to play the piano and he loves it sm it's their thing

Suki:

Home life/family/upbringing? Was raised by a single mom and has a bunch of siblings, not poor, but lower middle class, but comes from a loving home

Major/job? Professional athlete of some type, then a coach when retired

personality compared to canon? The same as for what we know! Good attitude, including, funny, very passionate.

how long have they've known the Gaang? most of them from high school when she starts dating Sokka!

Hobbies? Surfing, gaming, material arts, music, plays the bass

some random headcanon? flannel bi, has lots of freckles and big, green eyes

Mai:

Home life/family/upbringing? Similar to canon, but her mom divorced her father around the start of high school, and they had it a lot better then. She loves her little brother a lot, he's pretty similar to her and looks up to her a lot.

Major/job? Forensic Science major, usually

personality compared to canon? Similar, very similar. Quiet and calculating, but loves her friends and family dearly. Witty, in a quiet way.

Hobbies? plays the violin, reads a lot, goes to a lot of concerts

some random headcanon? I think of her as a lesbian, but I like aro ace Mai, too

Azula:

Home life/family/upbringing? Same as Zuko, but she moves in with Iroh a little later than him. No contact with her father after that tho, goes on the fitness stand against him after the Zuko thing. Very protective of Zuko, and she doesn't hide it, but she can be ruthless with him, too.

Major/job? Leadership, of some kind

personality compared to canon? She's definitely still Azula, she's amazing at reading people, can be cunning, and mean, but not cruel. Had a major psychological breakdown a few years after their father got sent to jail, a reaction to pushing everything away for. so long, and spent some time in a psychiatric hospital, and dealt with a lot with the therapists and doctors there. A very loyal friend.

Hobbies? material arts, advanced fire bending, fashion and reading

some random headcanon? was the leader of the debate club in high school, became a straight up legend in that crowd.

Ty Lee:

Home life/family/upbringing? Basically the same as canon

Major/job? professional gymnast

personality compared to canon? Same as canon

Hobbies? Dancing, cosplay, fashion

some random headcanon? Knows everyone's name, always.

Idk, tag a few people if you wanna, but no pressure to ever do it!

@flamelo @littlespoonsokka and literally everyone who wants to sorry I'm so bad at tagging jslkgg

[lessonsat30]

Lesson #4 - Bring about your own revival

In the process of looking back, I've realised how many things I loved that I no longer do anymore. I don't know why I stopped most of them - I guess as I moved away from places, and grew apart from people, and the priorities in my life changed, I just let some things slide.

Don't be like me. Don't let go of the things that make you happy. And if you have, then bring them back in your life.

I miss going to gigs. They were good nights, enjoying and discovering music, letting yourself go, and being part of a community who bonded together through music. I don't know what the music scene is like in the city I live now, and I suspect it's a bit muted at the moment because of COVID. Nevertheless I've decided to make more of an effort to go to live shows where I can, even if it means going on my own. I'm even thinking of starting my daughter's musical education by taking her to a few day festivals - she's responded in surprising ways to Ville's playlist. She seems to be a big fan of the pagan/folk/viking stuff (that's my girl) as well as black metal (I don't understand this at all. My kid apparently likes spinning around in a circle to it) so I'm hoping to foster some good musical taste in her.

It's not just events I'm talking about though. It's the little things too. I've been going through old journals and messages logs while doing this project, and I've come across so many things that used to be in my life but aren't anymore. So I'm bringing them back.

I miss the coffee we used to drink in Finland - it's costing me an arm and a leg but I've finally found somewhere that sells that brand and have some on the way. Although if anyone can get me a regular hook up to Juhla Mokka I'd appreciate it! Similarly I really want to drink salmari again, and have a bottle waiting in my basket for payday. One time I brought a bottle back for my uni friends, and no-one else could stand the taste, they thought I was joking when I said I love it.

I loved my old horror films, the atmospheric silent works of Murnau, the classic Universal monsters of the 30s, the fun campness of Hammer... My husband hates anything like that, I once took him to see a showing of The Cabinet of Dr Caligari with a live orchestra and he fell asleep. I didn't want to bore him so I stopped watching them. Screw him, I'm putting on The Black Cat tonight - Lugosi and Karloff, what's not to love?

Listening to the playlist has reminded me of how much I loved rock and metal music, so I'm playing it around the house more often. Again, my husband doesn't appreciate it, he condemns all my music as "noise", and when I was trying to enamour myself to him in the early days I stopped listening to it. But now I figure if he can take over the TV watching his YouTube videos about knives and campervans, then I can take over the kitchen and enjoy my music.

I was always very interested in linguistics, but let it slide after graduating and leaving that academic environment. It's not much, but I've subscribed to a magazine to try to get back into it. For obvious reasons I was learning Finnish, but stopped after that part of my life imploded. I'm starting again from scratch. Who says you have to be visiting a country to learn their language? It's very slow progress but I'm enjoying the challenge - I reckon I might just be able to hold a whole conversation by the time I retire.

It's not just about things that I did, but includes actions of those around me that cultivated a little happiness. As a kid, we'd arrive home from school and mum would make us hot chocolate and crumpets. There's no better combination when you come in from the cold, and I've started to do the same for my kid. I hope it can create the same warm, loving memories for her as it did for me.

I think it's natural to grow out of stuff, or to downplay something you like to impress your new beau (urgh) but if they truly bring you joy then it's never too late to bring them back into your life. Have a think about what things you've let go, and start your own revival. Do the things that make you happy. You won't regret it.

It's a whole variety of things that I'm re-establishing. I won't lie, some are causing some tension in my marriage, but I'm fed up of having to pretend I don't find happiness from something just to impress my husband. If I'm not the same person he knows as "me", then that's my fault for changing who i was to impress him, but it doesn't mean I should hide what makes me happy for the rest of my life.

[hellitwasyoufirstsergeant]

Hi everyone! I’m not really sure why I’m posting this here, I suppose because I’m not ready for people I know ‘irl’ to see this, and this is the only account I have anywhere where none of my irl friends follow it. As to why I’m posting this at all, I’m not so sure either. I suppose largely for myself, in the hope that it will exorcise some demons, and partly for other people, because eating disorders just are not discussed enough and perhaps by posting this I can show someone else that they’re not alone. 

There may be mistakes in this and it may not all be 100% coherent, I found it hard to write and I didn’t wish to read it back over.

WARNING: The following post contains discussions of eating disorders and mental health issues. Please do not read if this is a trigger for you, and please not not read if you’re only here to pass judgement 

Looking back now, it’s so easy to realise why I felt the way I did, and to see my descent into mental illness. At the time, it was confusing as hell. I wasn’t diagnosed with generalised anxiety disorder and clinical depression until I was 17, although I had been suffering from both for six years already, I just didn’t realise it, because I just didn’t know they existed. I didn’t know there were medical conditions to describe how I felt, perhaps if I did I wouldn’t have felt so alone and so alienated. It wasn’t until last year that I realised I’d suffered from an eating disorder. Before that, I didn’t know that binge eating was an eating disorder. 

The words ‘eating disorder’ to me conjured up images of skeletal bodies, of people making themselves sick. I wish that preteen and teen me knew that I was suffering from an actual condition, that other people suffered from too. 

I don’t recall specifically the first time I binged on food, but over autumn (fall) of 2011 it became a regular occurrence, a habit. It was my way of coping with the changes in my life - starting a new school, my mum being diagnosed with a clinical illness and an increasingly fractured relationship with my dad - and my feelings of loneliness. I was also self conscious about my body, I was in a more advanced stage of puberty than most of my peers and I was aware of the fact that I was a little overweight. Bingeing became an outlet for feelings that I couldn’t understand, and therefore that I couldn’t process. 

It was a process that I repeated regularly for six years. It was like a paradox, the more I looked at myself in the mirror and hated what I saw, the more I binged, the very thing that made me carry on putting on weight. I was overweight, I still am today, but I wish that I could have seen myself the way others saw me - slightly chubby but not the ugly monster I thought myself at the time. I ate my feelings away, it was the only coping mechanism I knew. Even when in some ways my life improved - when I was 14 I finally fell in with a group of friends who were kind and who made me feel accepted - my mental state continued to decline and I continued to eat to cope. I was also feeling confused about my sexuality, something that increased my sense of alienation and otherness. It was often the only thing that got me through the day, the only thing that made life bearable to me. 

I never confided the way I felt or my problem with food to anyone during this period. My mum knew that I had issues with food, twice she found hidden stashes in my bedroom. She has been a good parent to me, but I so wish she’d handled it differently. She made me feel ashamed, something that made me more determined to hide my problem and therefore to not confront it. I think perhaps that she would’ve been a lot more understanding had she known the feelings behind the problem, but I didn’t know how to go about telling her. 

I can’t remember how old I was exactly when I shoplifted food for the first time, I think around 14. The £10 a week pocket money was no longer enough to fund my problem, even though I always chose the cheapest food so that I could buy as much as possible. I shoplifted semi regularly from the local supermarkets for around 18 months, I still don’t know how I was never caught. 

In September 2016, I started sixth form college. It was a fresh start that I so badly needed, my five years at secondary school having been so unhappy. It was hard to begin with, only my oldest friend went to the same college as me and old feelings of loneliness resurfaced. A part of me had hoped that the change of school would allow me to leave my bingeing habit behind, but it wasn’t to be. Even when I settled in and began making friends, I continued bingeing. 

New friends at college told me of their mental health issues, and I finally felt understood - there were other people who felt the way I did, other people who wanted to die. These feelings may not be normal, but I’m not alone anymore. Despite feeling accepted properly for the first time in my life, I continued to eat. Perhaps it was the stress of A levels (my fellow Brits know how fucking hard these are), or my mum’s decline in health, or my increasingly worsening relationship with my dad. 

In May/June time of 2017, my oldest friend, Imogen, who was one of a few friends now aware of my poor mental state, told me that I should go to the doctor. After a little persuading, I agreed. She came with me, but the appointment achieved nothing. I tried a few more GPs at my local surgery and eventually found one who made me feel listened to, and who was kind and sympathetic. I don’t recall the exact time I was diagnosed (to be honest this period in my life is a bit of a blur), but after some months I was finally diagnosed with GAD and clinical depression. I still continued to stay silent about my problem with food. 

Ironically, it was actually the further decline of my mental state that allowed me to break my old habit. My mental health had declined fairly slowly over the past few years, but the decline accelerated over autumn and winter of 2017. I don’t know if there was a trigger behind that, I guess mental health doesn’t need a reason. I didn’t know how to deal with the way I felt, I lashed out and fell out with Imogen, which hit me hard. We didn’t talk at all for three months. Before this period, I had often thought that things would be so much easier if I was dead, but my thoughts had never progressed beyond that. Now, it became more active. I actually wanted to die. I stopped looking when I crossed the road, I stopped looking after my physical health at all. Fears about hurting my mum were the only thing stopping me from taking it further. But, I finally stopped binge eating, so disinterested in life that even the that no longer made me feel better. 

My mental state didn’t take a turn for the better, but I grew used to these new feelings and started to process them properly. I got better at pushing them out, but I did eventually decide to tell my parents about my diagnoses. My mum was very supportive, she still is, my dad not so (although I probably should’ve expected that). I made up with Imogen, my behaviour started to normalise. I felt so free from my old bingeing habit, it had only been a few months but it felt like a lifetime ago. 

In February 2018, my mum told me that she’d be moving to Yorkshire. She’d been forced by her job to take early retirement due to ill health, she was only 50 at the time, and wanted to live somewhere cheaper so she could save on living costs and pay off her mortgage. I was scared, and considered for a time moving in with my grandparents so that I could stay in a place where I knew people, but eventually decided that I’d move with my mum. Still, despite the biggest change ever to happen in my life, I managed to avoid a return to my binge eating habit. I’m still not sure how. Perhaps now that the habit was broken it no longer had the hold over me that it once did. 

And then, around March 2018, my dad gave me £500. To this day I still have no idea why, I guess guilt. But it was so much more money than I’d ever had. The temptation not to spend any of it on food was too great. I decided to treat myself, I’d spend £100 on food and put the rest in my savings. 

By the time I finished college at the beginning of June, the entire £500 was gone, at least £450 of it spent on food. I still remember the binge I had the day after me and mum moved out of our old home and in with my grandparents, who we lived with for seven weeks before going to Yorkshire. My mental state declined still further, and I wasted most of those weeks in bed, not having the energy to do anything. I kicked myself later for not using it to spend time with the friends I was leaving behind. 

After we moved to Yorkshire in August, I spent two of the worst months of my life. My old feelings of loneliness resurfaced, not helped by the fact that one of my closest friends just stopped talking to me. I seemed to alternate between binge eating, my binges even bigger than they ever had been, and hardly eating at all. 

But, eventually, I managed to settle in. I got a job, I made new friends. I didn’t make a conscious decision to stop binge eating again, it just happened. I wasn’t lonely anymore, but my mental state didn’t seem to get any better. But, I had healthier ways of coping and I didn’t need to binge as an outlet for my feelings anymore. In September 2019, I started uni, and I finally felt like my life had a purpose. 

Now, I have more and better friends than I ever had. I’m glad I made the move to Yorkshire, where I live now is much nicer where I grew up and if I hadn’t made the move there are so many amazing people I wouldn’t have met. Most of my friends are aware of my mental health issues, although I rarely discuss them in detail. 

However, only one of my friends is aware of my eating disorder. I didn’t realise until last year that binge eating was classified as an eating disorder. I’m not quite sure why, but this discovery prompted me to finally confide in my oldest friend, Imogen. She was very supportive and understanding, and I know my other friends would be, but it’s still something where I look back and I’m like ‘woah that actually happened’. Putting it out of my mind as much as possible has been my way of coping with the fact that it did happen. I have been slightly more open online that I have irl about the fact that I had an eating disorder, but this is the first time I have discussed it this in depth with anyone. 

I’m going to say now what I wish preteen and teen me had known: you are not alone. Whether you’re suffering from an eating disorder, from mental health issues, or from something else, you are not alone. I can’t say truthfully that I have never regretted confiding in someone, but the majority of the time it has helped me, even in a small way. Please talk to someone if you have an eating disorder, be it a friend, a family member, a GP, a teacher, even me. It is nothing to be ashamed of. 

I stopped binge eating as a regular habit at the start of winter 2018. Although I relapsed a couple times last year, it’s been twelve months and counting since my last binge. 

[irwinkitten]

men of mayhem | a.i

notes: so the majority of this is written already. but i probably won’t post the next part too soon. however, this is a sons of anarchy!au and i’ve been so excited about. you do NOT need to have watched the show to know what’s going on, but if you have seen the show, you may spot some familiar names and places. to give you a rough timeline, the oc (Michelle) and Ashton are born in 1978 and this part has various stages. She attends university in 1996 and the ending is taking place in the summer of 1998. We don’t see all of the guys in this part, but they will be making more appearances as the story goes on! A big thank you to @sexgodashton​ for going over this with a fine tooth comb and to @spicycal​ and @softbabiestan​ for being my cheerleaders. Love you guys.  warnings: mentions of violence, hints of smut, mentions of guns word count: 5.7k

donate to my ko-fi here 

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               When Michelle Morgan left the small town of Charming at the age of eighteen to pursue her dream career, she knew she was leaving behind more than her parents and baby brother, Matty. She was leaving behind a group who she’d grown up with. Many said that her childhood sweetheart would leave her in the dust, break her heart whilst she was in the big city, studying her chosen profession. But those many knew nothing about her hometown life.

Growing up with the Irwin’s had been something of a blessing for her. The Morgan’s took it as the sign that it was, because nobody in Charming messed with the Irwin’s. Although her father had never joined SAMCRO—the known biker gang who ran many things off the books as well as their mechanics business—he fully supported them, helping out with transport when they needed it. 

Her friendship with Ashton—the only son of Anne-Marie and Bert Irwin—only formed because she’d been cornered by the playground bullies at the age of five, and her vicious kicks to their shins followed by Ashton pulling them away from her had the two kids as thick as thieves since.

They’d been childhood sweethearts from the get go, and with the rest of SAMCRO being an influence in her life, her father knew that she was going to be involved somehow. Her mother  first mentioned being Ashton’s “Old Lady” when they were sixteen—celebrating her sixteenth birthday no less—causing both teens to blush furiously at her words. The other club members had laughed, and despite her bright red face, she scoffed.

“Don’t like the idea of that, lil’ lady?” Bert teased her, the nickname filled with nothing but the affection that he and Anne both had for Michelle.

“Someone is gonna have to pull your sorry asses outta the fire when your plans go to shit. That’s gonna be me. I’m gonna study and get into those bigshot firms. And I’m gonna come back and keep the lotta you out of trouble.” She missed Ashton’s look of awe, but the other club members hadn’t. 

But her words had hit home for them, and so they toasted her luck on her sixteenth birthday.

That night, when the two were hidden away in their den—despite what their parents assumed when Ashton pulled her away—they were lay on the various throws and pillows that lived on the floor, cuddled up as he played with her fingers, gently bringing her knuckles up to his lips.

“Did you mean that Micha? You really gonna go away for however long it takes to be a big shot lawyer?” When it was just the two of them, he never hid from her. The fear was laid out for her to see.

“It’s gonna be seven years of school at least. Maybe a couple more to work with the big firms and get cases under my belt.” 

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. Silence for them never had been since he’d confessed that he loved her when they were fourteen and had loved her since they were six. 

“Ten years is a long time, sweetheart.” She turned in his arms to face him, her eyes searching his face. She could see the fear sitting there, plain as day for her. 

“It is. But I’m not letting you go, Irwin. We’ve got ten years of love on our side, with another two before I’d have to go to University. Surely we can make it through another ten? I know your dad won’t put you on any of the runs, not till you turn twenty one. Which means we got four years of unfiltered time for you coming to visit, right?” 

“Of course.” He whispered, his lips brushing against hers softly. “Reckon you’ll let me into your pants before you leave?” And she giggled, his own face lighting up in joy.

“Reckon you can wait till I’ve gotta leave. I know you’re not gonna complain when my lips can be put to better use for the next two years.” He rolled over with a playful growl, pinning her down which earned a small giggle as he playfully nipped at her neck. 

“I reckon I can do that. But, I’ve gotta treat my birthday girl tonight.” His lips met hers and she didn’t argue. 

When she was accepted into University, the club had celebrated with her, watching in anticipation for her acceptance. She’d studied so hard for her entrance exams and had already imparted some knowledge to Bert to keep him out of trouble.

Her first year had been daunting. Ashton visited her once a month at most thanks to the cost of gas, but it was enough for them.

That was when people began to tell her that they’d never last. 

Men in her class would tell her that she’d be better off with them, but Michelle held her own. They didn’t like that. They tried to get vicious with her in the mock court sessions and various debates, but she had a secret weapon.

She’d grown up with SAMCRO, and in the words of Chibs, “she’s got balls of diamond that one”. Ashton had laughed at his words, and she’d thrown the drinks mat at his face, making the other club members laugh.

When she’d come home for the holidays, Bert had heard enough from Ashton to track her down and ask her if she wanted a second layer of protection. 

“I can’t give you Ashton, I need him here unfortunately. Him and Hood get into enough trouble.” This made her grin. 

“Throw in Hemmings and Clifford, and that’s going to be a disaster when they start doing runs.” Bert had snorted at her words.

“Either it’ll be crazy enough that it’ll work or a disaster.” He muttered before pulling the two of them back on track. “Instead of Ash, I figured it was about time that Chibs and I taught you how to shoot a gun, don’t you think?” 

“I know how to shoot a gun,” came back the retort, and Bert smiled.

“Ah, but from a moving vehicle? And what about awareness of your surroundings, lil’ lady?” Michelle paused before reluctantly shaking her head at his questions.

“I guess not.” She finally muttered and he grinned.

“Chibs and I will start you tomorrow. Ash can come as well. Maybe get him to rope Hood, Hemmings and Clifford into it. The four of them are gonna be a force to reckon with when he takes over.” 

“Oh no bet on that one. Cal will be his VP. You need to make sure that Bobby doesn’t murder them when they prank him because you know he’s gonna be their easy target.” 

The two of them made their way back into the Irwin household. Michelle laughed as her little brother rushed to greet her. It had definitely been strange being away from Matty for so long.“You’re not wrong. C’mon lil’ lady. You’ve been missed by a lot of people.” 

He’d guided her into the main dining and sitting room to find nearly all of the club there along with what was considered the next generation of club members. All of the younger members kept away from the free flowing alcohol, knowing that the following day was going to be daunting as it was. Michelle was happy enough to stay sober to talk to her parents and sit with Matty on her lap, listening to him going on about all the things he’d done in the months that she’d been away. 

Ashton barely left her side. 

The following morning felt like it was straight out of the movies. But she knew that this was the reality for the club members who did the various runs. 

Unsurprisingly, Ashton helped both Bert and Chibs. Michelle hadn’t expected anything less from her boyfriend, but even then, it still stunned her the trust that he had in her not to hit him with a bullet when it came to being aware of club members versus rivals. 

“Am I gonna really need to know this kinda stuff?” The complaint had been good natured, but the elder Irwin understood her hesitation. He hadn’t risen to her complaint, making her go through their course again. It was late afternoon before Chibs finally called to a halt, and they began to pack down, making sure nothing was left behind.

Once they were ready to go, Bert motioned for the other two to head off. Ashton scowled for a moment before his dad sighed.

“I just need to talk with your girl. I’ve got intel on her uni, and you need to go meet with Hood. the Harris’ have payments due.” With a quick kiss to his girlfriend, Ashton handed Michelle her helmet and then he was gone with Chibs.

“C’mon lil’ lady.” She didn’t hesitate to climb on the back of Bert’s bike. It was a level of freedom that she understood and part of her wanted her own to travel back to uni with, to show those men who thought she was easy that no one messed with her. 

The drive wasn’t too far out of Charming. It was mostly desert, but there was a little spot that gave a nice view of the town.

When the bike was parked up, Michelle was off first, heading to a small bench that had been left there by a previous resident.

“Ashton’s gonna be Club Prez one day. You and I both know this.” Michelle did know this. Both her and Ashton had known since they were kids. Ashton had always so desperately wanted to follow in his dad’s footsteps.

“What time frame?” She finally asked, turning her head to the man who had turned into a second father for her.

“Maybe by the time he’s twenty five. I’ve been CP for nearly forty years, and it’s time to retire for me.” This shocked Michelle, her eyes going wide. 

“But, Ash thought he wouldn’t be Prez til he was in his late thirties at least?” The surprise that coloured Michelle’s tone made Bert laugh as he threw his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her gently as he kissed her temple. 

“I’m glad that you both have faith in this old man. But unlike the others, I wanna be able to spoil my grandchildren when they come. I’m surprised that my boy hasn’t made an honest woman outta you.” 

Michelle blushed, making him laugh. “Shove off old man.” She groaned, pushing away from him, making him laugh even more.

“I just wanna know, what’s gonna happen. That’s all.” He raised his hands in surrender, and she sighed.

“We talked about it before I left in September. I want to finish school. He knows I’m already planning to spend maybe a couple of years in the big city in a firm so I have a few cases under my belt. He also knows that I want him. I never really wanted anyone else.” 

“And I know that, lil’ lady. That’s why I want to help you protect yourself. When Ashton becomes Club Prez, you know we’ve got problems that he’ll inherit. The second they find out you’re a lawyer? That’s a pretty lookin’ red target painted on your forehead.” 

Michelle nodded. “That’s why you had me take out the opposition vs our own.” 

Bert nodded. “I don’t anticipate you being part of the club like that. But if you get into a situation, I’ll be relieved to know that one of my girls can get away safely. You know we’d be devastated if we lost you, Anne-Marie especially.” Michelle felt her heart swell for this man and his wife. 

Her parents were good to her, and she knew that. And so were the Irwin’s. But knowing that they valued her like a daughter already made her appreciate just what she had in her life.

“At least by the time I’m finished with school, I’ll be there to haul his ass out of the fire coals.” Her murmured words made Bert laugh before patting her knee.

“And he’d be lucky to have you hauling his ass from the fires. C’mon lil’ lady. Let's get back before he goes off at me. I know you’re only here for a few more weeks, and he wants to spend as much time with you as possible.” 

When the two of them returned, Ashton didn’t hesitate to almost drag Michelle out to the den that they’d built as teenagers, making Bert laugh at her exasperated eye roll. But once the two of them were secluded away from the world, she happily nestled against him, their clothes long gone as she traced his tattoos.

“What was dad after?” His fingers ran up and down her spine, her body melting against him as she fought to keep her eyes open.

“Told me why he was doing that today, why he wanted me to know how to at least fight back.” She murmured and his lips pressed against the top of her head.

“And why would that be, sweetheart?” Her head tilted up so that her chin could rest on his chest, her eyes catching his. 

“You’re gonna be Prez eventually, Ash. Everyone and their mother know about us. He’s worried that when you take over, you’ll be inheriting problems he’s been dealing with for years. Just being associated with you paints a target on my back. When they find out that we’re together? That target moves to my forehead.” There was no way to paint it nicely, but Ashton understood, even if there was crease between his brows at her words.

“Hopefully being in the big city takes it away, you’re out of town for too long.” She smiled sadly at him before letting the subject drop. 

“He also asked why you haven’t made an honest woman out of me. I think he forgets we’re only eighteen, and I’ve barely been away for six months.” Ashton laughed, and the mood changed drastically as she shifted, straddling his hips. 

“Trust me sweetheart, when I’ve saved up, I’ll be making an honest woman outta you. Those big shots can get fucked when they see a nice, shiny diamond on your finger.” 

“Oh there better be a shiny diamond eventually, Irwin.” He laughed as she leaned down to kiss him. 

Time passed by for them. Whilst he was saving up the money he earned from helping the club and working with Bobby in the garage, Michelle worked her ass off. 

Despite repeatedly telling men that she was taken, none really believed it. However, when she landed a few punches after one of them got too handsy with her, they quickly realised that it didn’t matter what they believed.

She could fight back, and she could put them down quicker than they’d ever be able to step away from. 

When Ashton had found out, he’d taken a month away, despite Bert half-heartedly arguing, he realised that if anything, it would keep her safer if they saw what kind of boyfriend she had.

She was surprised when he turned up after her lecture to pick her up. The roar of the bike engine was so familiar that it sounded out of place in the big city.

Michelle had been chatting with Jennifer, as they’d left, deliberately ignoring the few guys that seemed to invite themselves along. When Jen had spotted her ride, she hesitated, unwilling to leave Michelle with the guys from their course, circling around her like vultures.

“I can see if Jack could drop you off, save you from these creeps?” They shared a giggle.

 “Thanks but I need to head to the bar. Old Jerry wants me to stop by soon to try his new cocktails...” The roar of the engine made her pause, her eyes immediately searching out the sound.

“Chelle?” Jen had prodded her to get her attention, but once Michelle spotted the bike, her face lit up in undisguised glee.

“I don’t need to worry about getting a ride, mine just arrived.” The guys that had been lingering, scoffed. 

“Really Morgan? You’re going after a lowlife, probably with no stable job and an arrest record?” She wasn’t sure of his name, Mike or Marc, but his words triggered her anger. As the bike pulled up, she spun around, ready to punch him before remembering where she was.

“If I wasn’t so determined to become a lawyer, I’d have decked you with no hesitation. However, that apparent lowlife has been my best friend since we were kids. Add in the fact he’s literally the love of my life, and you get the picture. No arrest record, his dad runs and owns a garage that he’s set to inherit one day and not to mention, I like my men a little rough around the edges. How about you go fuck the blow up doll your buddies got you for Christmas and get off my fucking ass.” She snapped and she watched as he glanced behind her.

“He gonna come in and save you then?” This time, she smirked.

“When you run around with men that look like they could kill you, you get taught how to defend yourself from creepy assholes. Try it and see where this will get you. Not to mention that I’m a scholarship student. Why would I jeopardize this chance for a career?” Her voice had turned innocent, sweet. But the dare was laid for all to hear.

“You’re an ugly bitch anyway.” He finally muttered before turning on his heel and leaving. She shared a look with Jen before they both started laughing. Michelle hugged her friend goodbye before running to where Ashton was standing, leaning against his bike. 

The hindrance of her skirt meant that he could only pick her up and swing her around, but she was finally in the safest place.

“It’s been a minute.” She finally breathed when their lips pulled away, his smile only having grown wider.

“I know, but there are reasons. However, you’ve got me for a good chunk of time, doll.” This made her light up in excitement.

“How much time?” His smile was impossibly wide at this point as he dipped his head to kiss her once more.

“At least a month.” His voice was low, setting the fire off in her belly, but even that couldn’t squelch the joy that surged through her as she kissed him.

“Lets head back to mine then, handsome. I’ve got some new things for you to enjoy.” He had to swallow his reply as she got herself sat on the bike, a laugh escaping at the put-out look on her face.

“Sorry doll, but it looks so strange to see you dressed like that on my bike.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. I haven’t got much of a choice. Dumb dress codes.” Ashton ignored her dar mutter as he placed her helmet on for her before climbing on and kicking the bike into life.

She’d missed the feeling of the bike underneath her. The way the engine rumbled was a reassurance, something that had come with years of riding around with Ashton and being taught to ride by Bert. It was a level of freedom that she never felt in the city, so enclosed and overrun with either pedestrians or cas. Bikes were around, but not ones like these, they were more what Bobby would call flashy toys, built for speed but would never survive one of the runs they did. 

When Ashton pulled up to Michelle’s place, there were nosey neighbours who peered from their windows to see what the noise was about. She outright ignored them as she took Ashton’s hand and led him up the stone steps to the house she was renting, the door barely closed before he had her pressed against the wall with his lips on hers.

 This was another thing she missed as she sighed into the kiss, the soft moan escaping as hands pushed up her skirt, and he began to tease.

“Do you think you’ll get complaints about any noise?” He murmured as his lips moved to her neck and she moaned at the sensations.

“Don’t care.” 

She didn’t hold back and neither did he.

When they were nestled up in her bed, having gotten their welcome home out of their systems, Michelle was dozing off against his chest when he leaned over to the floor, rummaging through his jacket pockets.

“What are you doing? I had a comfy pillow.” She muttered indignantly. He chuckled.

“I had a whole thing planned out, but being with you like this? Honestly it's the best moment I think.” 

This had her confused as he resumed his previous position but this time, she tilted her head so that it was resting on his chest, staring at him.

“And what moment would that be, Irwin?” He gave her the softest smile, one which she knew was reserved just for her.

“The moment to tell you that I’ve loved you for nearly my entire life, and I don’t want a life without you in it. Michelle Morgan, will you marry me?” he had the ring in his hands, and she couldn’t stop the gasp as she sat up, staring at him in shock.

“Ashton, this better not be a joke.” The tears threatened to fall and there was the soft smile again as he leaned forward to kiss her.

“I would never joke about this. You’re too important to me, Micha.” 

The first tear fell as she moved her trembling left hand, offering it to Ashton.

“Yes. Yes I will marry you.” The joy on his face in that moment sealed it for Michelle. As he slid the ring on her finger, he kissed it before his lips found hers once more.

“My sun, my moon, my stars.” He whispered.

When she went into her class on Monday, Jen was the first to notice the very shiny diamond ring on her finger.

“Oh my god, really?” Her friend gasped excitedly before pulling her into a hug. Michelle laughed.

“Really! He had this whole elaborate plan set out but ditched it because it didn’t feel like us. He wants to celebrate, but since he’s staying for the month, his brothers are going to travel up for celebrations next week. Ash wants to meet you and Jack and have a quiet double date before his brothers show up.” 

There were a few mutters from the men around them, but the two girls paid them no attention like they’d done from day one when the two realised they were the only females in the class.

“The only reason she’s getting married is because he probably knocked her up.” Mike-she was certain now after hearing his name called out on the register-muttered.

This time, she wasn’t going to let him slander her name like that. Those kinds of rumours not only fuelled fire but could potentially cost Michelle her career, and she wasn’t about to have any of it. 

Turning in her seat whilst they waited for the lecturer to start, she scowled at him. 

“Kindly refrain from making assumptions and starting rumours that you can’t back up with facts, O’Riley.” She kept her voice levelled, albeit slightly condescending. He scowled at her in return.

“What, scared that I’m right?” The taunt was a clear bait, determined to show she shouldn't be there. Both her and Jen had suffered from them.

The class had fallen silent at this, and Michelle smirked.

“How about I give you the facts first since you’ve spent the entirety of first year trying to make a point that neither Jennifer or I belong. I’ve known my fiance since we were children. Five years old to be precise. Whilst I’m at school, he works for the garage that his dad owns and will one day take over. He tries his hardest to visit once a month but sometimes he can’t because of obligations to the company means that sometimes the garage comes first.” She could see a few of the guys take on board her words.

Jen was smirking.

“If he were to have knocked me up, the last time I saw him was two and a half months ago. Notice how I haven’t swapped to any kinds of baggy clothing? Had I actually been pregnant, I’d have taken a leave of absence for a week so that I could go home and tell him as well as our families. Getting the picture yet?” His cheeks were burning as she so easily put him in his place.

“You have a go at the two of us, saying we don’t belong because we can’t be doing our studies right, we can’t be learning the same things as men. But if I look objectively at the situation, you’ve repeatedly tried to bait Chelle into an argument and lost every time. Most facts she’s been quite open about, and the others seemed to have put two and two together, but you can’t let go of the fact that she rejected you. So you hound her for anything. I hope that if you actually get into Law School after the undergrad program that you have to face her in the courts, because she’s clearly better than you.” Jennifer had spoken up in defence of her friend, and it had fallen silent before the lecturer began to clap.

Michelle hadn’t even realised that they’d eaten into the class time.

“Miss Morgan is correct, Mr O’Riley. Report to my office after class.” 

Unsurprisingly, O’Riley left her alone, and before Michelle knew it, the end of the year was upon them and she was back home with her family. 

She hadn’t had a chance to really pass the news and had forced Calum, Luke and Michael to stay quiet about it. Ashton knew better than to ruin this surprise for her, even though her family had been waiting for the day to happen ever since he’d asked her father’s permission the day after she’d left.

To say they were excited was understatement of the century. Both of them had winced at the high pitched squeal from her mother and her father was laughing at the scene before him.

They welcomed Ashton into their family when he was a child, but this was a different kind of welcome, one that really made him feel lucky to have the parents he had.

Unlike some of the weddings they’d seen from the club members, Ashton had been adamant. The wedding would be how Michelle wanted it, and if anyone had a problem then they could work at the garage instead. 

Bert had surprisingly backed his son up.

“She’s practically been my daughter since he brought her home with a skinned knee and tear tracks down her face. This is her day just as much as his, and if Ash wants it to be how she wants it, then no one will say a fucking word.” 

The prospects had eyed the father/son duo warily before nodding in acceptance. Ashton had already made it clear to them that they’d be around for security rather than the ceremony. 

They’d watched one of their previous comrades learn the hard way not to insult Michelle Morgan around any of them. The last prospect who did that not only lost his chance to be in the club but also ended up in the hospital with broken arms and a bullet to the knee. 

The warning rang loud and clear for them so they weren’t bothered by the fact they’d been relegated to security.

Despite the endless ribbing that Ashton had received from his best friends, he helped Michelle with ideas for what she wanted. They’d decided to plan and book it for the following summer, to let her get through her second year of university without worrying. 

“I’m going to defer a year after we get married.” Ashton stared at her in shock. She’d told him that the career was important to her, and he couldn’t wrap his head around why she would do that. 

He’d pulled her so that she was straddling his lap, the two of them sat on the sofa at his parents’. They were out for the weekend. He knew his dad was preparing for a patchover and his mom wanted as much time as possible with him without the two of them underfoot.

“And why are you deferring a year, doll?” 

“So that I can steal you away for a year. Our honeymoon is going to be much longer than two weeks.” The grin on her lips was almost predatory, and he felt the corner of his own twitch up in response. 

“Oh is it, Miss Morgan?” Her arms were resting on his shoulders as she leaned forwards, nibbling at the skin of his neck, her hips slowly rocking into his. 

He was struggling to stay focused. 

“A full year of us travelling. Motels, fancy hotels or hostels. Travel America and then maybe fly out and travel Europe. A whole year. I’m sure you wouldn’t be adverse to having sex in every state and then as much of Europe as possible.” Her teeth tugged at his earlobe, and he had her pinned on the couch, the look of shock amusing as his lips met hers.

“What my lady wants, my lady gets.” 

Later when they’d redressed themselves and were looking at various places, Ashton let out a sigh. “You realise that it means I’ll definitely be doing more runs. And maybe a few hits?” 

She squeezed his hand gently. “That’s why pops is planning on offering to pay for half of the trip. He knows what your dad does, they’re best friends. He knows what you do. He also knows that you’d protect me and move heaven and earth if you could. I wasn’t supposed to tell you this, so act surprised when he offers it.” This made him laugh as he kissed her temple.

“Secret is safe with me, doll. So July or August for the wedding date?” 

True to his word, Ashton did act surprised when her dad made the offer, however, he didn’t have to fake his shock at the amount that he was offering.

“That’s, surely that would cover the entire trip?” Ashton barely breathed. Marcus Morgan laughed as he slapped Ashton on the shoulder. 

“Son, I’ve been saving for this ever since she brought you home to us to introduce us to her newest best friend. At first it was small amounts which I was prepared to make her college fund, and then you two got together and her mother told me to start saving properly.” Ashton stared at his soon to be father-in-law, stunned.

He could do nothing but hug Marcus tightly in gratitude, in amazement, in awe. He wasn’t entirely sure. But he loved this man just as much as he loved his own dad.

Marcus understood the unspoken words and held onto Ashton just as tightly, giving him a moment to take in the significance of the offer. 

“You realise that the second Michelle finds out, she’ll flip?” Ashton finally asked as he pulled back, and Marcus laughed loudly.

“Like I’d expect anything else from that girl. She’s her mother’s daughter through and through. I can only count my blessings that she found you early on to temper her impulses.” Ashton tried and failed to hide his smirk as his soon-to-be in-law rolled his eyes before they were drawn into a discussion about the newest modifications he’d made to his bike. 

They still continued to plan, even when Michelle was back at University. Mercifully, after her verbal slapdown of O’Riley, both her and Jen had earned the grudging respect from their classmates. 

That respect was a big help when it came to the appointments for her dress fittings and bridesmaid dresses. If Jen hadn’t been one of her bridesmaids, she knew her friend would’ve handed her any and all the notes she needed for missed classes however, both of them relied on the notes from their classmates and the occasional meeting with their tutors.

It was a much quieter year for both her and Ashton, despite all the appointments and meetings for the venues and vendors. It dawned on them how much work it took to pull off the wedding that they were planning, on top of their respective school work and jobs. 

It was exhausting, but they pulled it off, she’d finished top of the class, with Jen close behind her and the business side for the Irwin’s had been thriving. 

Before she really knew it, she was standing in the foyer of the church, gripping her dad’s arm to stop the butterflies causing havoc through her entire body, let alone her stomach.

“You nervous sweet girl?” Her dad's tone was reassurance of all these new exciting feelings. She let out a small breath of air as she finally let it sink in that it was just Ashton waiting for her.

She was marrying her best friend.

“Excited. I still can’t believe he agreed to let you practically pay for our entire trip.” It had been a constant disagreement until her mother had sat her down and told her why her dad was doing this.

“Call it payback for you actually telling him before I could.” And she felt her jaw drop. She knew that Ashton hadn’t told him, or at least they’d suspected she’d gotten away with her slip up. 

Marcus chuckled as he gently tapped under her chin, her jaw shutting with an audible snap. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She hissed dangerously, and he grinned in return, his eyes suspiciously bright as his hand lifted, the backs of his fingers tracing down her face. She relaxed into the comforting touch almost immediately.

“You’re my child. I’ve raised you and I know you. Ashton is also mine, even though your mother didn’t bring him into the world. The two of you grew up with your mom and I as well as his parents. You might be able to fool the world sweetheart, but you can never fool your parents.”

It was another sigh before she let out a snort of laughter.

“Figures.” The key changed in the music, and the butterflies were back with reckless abandon. 

“Time to get the show on the road, sweet girl. I love you and I’m proud of you.” His lips touched her forehead, and it was almost like magic that her entire body relaxed. The butterflies finally settled as they began the walk down to her future husband.

-

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[this-is-quite-homoerotic]

Another Janto AU idea I’ll probably never write

Okay, this one’s a bit weird. TRUST ME THOUGH, I WON’T LET YOU DOWN!

(Warning: there is no underage, I swear. In case it looks like that’s where I’m heading, I promise I’m not.)

I’ve been thinking about the Jack&Owen father/son dynamic and the Owen&Ianto brothers dynamic and.

No-aliens Modern day AU where a young Jack marries Owen’s mum after a short and tumultuous love affair when Owen’s a kid. The marriage doesn’t last, Jack starts growing out of love with her when he sees how she treats little Owen, who at this point would be 7 or so, and soon other flaws he’d been too enamoured to notice start becoming more and bigger issues until the couple breaks up.

Jack is in his early 20s, and if you’d ask him before he married he’d have told you he wasn’t anywhere near ready to be a father. That doesn’t stop him from imprinting on Owen within minutes of meeting him, however, and with the way Owen’s mother treats him, he actually ends up taking him in the divorce, after many rows and a few teary discussions, because he loves the kid, and he can see that she was not actually in the position to raise anyone, for a variety of reasons that I won’t elaborate on here. She does visit him, Jack is always happy to facilitate her visits with Owen, but not terribly often.

It takes a few years, but Jack eventually adopts him legally, with his mother’s blessings. He talks to Owen every step of the way, always listens to what he has to say, always respecting (within reason) what he wants. Through mutual agreement, they never change Owen’s last name.

Jack isn’t the best father ever, by any stretch. It’s a learning curve, and there’s a few big stumbles. But he loves that kid so much, and for the first time in his life Owen has an adult and parental figure who listens attentively to what he has to say, who always asks for his opinion before making any choices that affect him, who would kill and die for him, who loves him, unconditionally, and it makes a difference.

So Owen grows up with love and support, and once he hits puberty he’s only a tiny bit nervous to tell his father he’s bi since Jack has been dating people of all genders on and off since he divorced his mother. Owen was consistently suspicious of all of them, and privately thought none of them was good enough for his father, but he never said it. He did want Jack to be happy, after all. None of them last too long, and in the end it’s always just the two of them. Jack seems happy enough with it, so Owen doesn’t worry.

Anyway, his coming out goes great; Jack is so proud he cries a little and he insists on hugging him even longer than usual. (Jack is a hugger, Owen has resigned himself to it.) Owen huffs and doles out the eye-rolls and the ‘it’s-not-a-big-deal’s and ‘oh my god, dad, you’re so embarrassing’ but he’s secretly very pleased. Jack takes him to pride for the first time that very year, and it becomes a yearly tradition.

Owen befriends Ianto Jones by proxy at first: Ianto was in his group of friends and they ended up hanging out together a lot, first in a group and later more one-on-one. He’s alright, even if he is two whole years younger than him and a bit of a nerd. There is one (1) instance when Owen almost got mad at him, when Ianto asked if he’d been adopted (after another mate of his mentioned something about it). But after he’d replied defensively, he realised Ianto wasn’t trying to be mean about it. At all. 

“That must be great, though. You know for sure that your dad wanted you, was willing to fight to keep you.” That’s how Owen found out about Ianto’s not so great home situation.

So they became mates, and soon Owen starts inviting Ianto over.

Now, the problem with being raised by a young, stunningly attractive single parent, of course, is that all his friends are more likely to have a crush on his father than they are to like him that way. Not that Owen fancies Ianto or anything. But it’s weird, Jack is old.

Ianto, like most of Owen’s female friends and some of his guy friends, develops a crush on his father. Fucking hell. The little shit keeps sneaking furtive little glances Jack’s way, and whenever Jack actually addresses him, he smiles beatifically and pretends he’s not the acerbic juvenile delinquent he really is (as if Owen would hang out with him if he was that boring). He perks up whenever Jack is around; smiles all the time. It’s bizarre.

Jack doesn’t notice. Once the initial weirdness wears off, Owen thinks it’s hilarious that his father can’t see through Ianto’s polite, helpful little boy facade. So he doesn’t say anything. He just enjoys the show. It goes like this: Ianto comes over, they hang out for a while. Jack gets home from work, Ianto gets starry eyed and promptly becomes this alien perfectly-behaved A-student right in front of Owen’s very amused eyes. Ianto’s crush goes right over Jack’s head the entire time. Owen gets to laugh at Ianto being flustered and/or pretending to have perfect manners, and Ianto gets whatever dopamine rush he gets from staring at Jack. Win-win.

They keep in touch when Owen goes to uni and later when Ianto goes to a different one, but they don’t see each other very often and eventually grow distant. Yadda yadda, life happens and eventually they re-connect.

Ianto introduces Owen to a friend of his, Katie, obnoxiously telling her that while he isn’t as hot as his father, he’ll do. (Katie fully believes he’s joking until Owen brings her home to meet Jack. She still thinks Owen is hotter, but she can see what Ianto meant, certainly. “That’s love for you,” Ianto laments. “It blinds you.” Owen pretends to be offended.)

The thing is, Owen falls head-over-heels with Katie. He’s absolutely gone on her, and after discussing it a little to make sure she’s on the same page as him, he pops the question. Ianto is, of course, invited to the wedding.

So that’s how we get to 25-year-old Ianto seeing early-to-mid 40s Jack again for the first time in almost a decade. For the first time ever, Jack sees him right back.

Understandably, Jack feels a little guilty about noticing how nicely his son’s younger friend looks in a suit, but there’s no harm in looking, right? The ceremony is lovely, Jack cries (and so does Owen, though he glares when anyone mentions it), after which they swiftly move on to the party.

Deep into the night, late enough that the bride and groom have retired to start their honeymoon, Jack is having one more drink as he watches the mostly drunk guests dance and toast to the happy couple. He’s feeling old and maudlin and so happy for his son that his chest could burst, when Ianto makes his move.

Talking leads to snogging leads Ianto pushing Jack up against an out-of the-way wall and whispering all the dirty things he’d like to do to him in that sinful Welsh accent leads to them falling in bed together at Jack’s hotel room and staying there for the next several hours (not all of them spent awake).

Jack, having had no clue that Ianto had harbored an intense teenage crush on him and had been dreaming about this for literal years, figured it was just a one-night-thing brought about by loneliness or boredom.

The morning after, however, Ianto formally asks him out.

Jack protests (only a little, and with no real force behind it) that he’s almost twice Ianto’s age, surely he can’t mean to actually date him. Ianto assures him that he does.

They go out to have a very late brunch. It’s their first official date, and Jack has more fun than he’s had in years. Ianto, who’d only thought of Jack infrequently if still fondly during the years he hadn’t seen him, is positively giddy. Turns out seeing Jack again was all it took for the attraction to come roaring back. But now he can really get to know Jack as an adult, beyond the fantasies he made up as a hormonal teen. The real man holds up surprisingly well against the fantasy. 

Ianto confesses his teenage crush, confesses that he wondered what Jack might look like after all these years when he realised he’d be seeing him again at the wedding, but he never in a million years had expected Jack to somehow look even more delectable than he had back then. (Jack doesn’t blush, but he wants to. They end up right back in his hotel bed once they’re done with brunch.)

Truth is, Jack hadn’t expected it to last, not really. He’d hoped to have some fun with a gorgeous young man before said man got bored and moved on without him. He didn’t expect to fall in love. He certainly didn’t expect, wouldn’t have believed that sleepy morning when he’d woken up in the arms of a warm, sleep-soft Welshman who asked to take him out on a proper date, that a man young enough to be his son and handsome enough to have his choice of partner would be falling in love with him.

Owen choked on his own laughter when Jack told him Ianto had taken him out on that first date. “I cannot believe it. He did it. He actually did it. The absolute mad lad. It only took him a decade, but he did it. That crazy motherfucker. Fatherfucker. Oh my god, fatherfucker.” Then he started cackling again. Jack was too relieved he wasn’t upset about it to be offended. Despite Ianto’s reassurances that there had never been anything other than strictly platonic friendship between him and Owen, Jack still had the tiniest of worries that Owen might have harbored a crush on Ianto back in his teens. He’d invited Ianto more often than any of his other friends, and the atmosphere had always been different with him, though Jack had never managed to put his finger on how, back then.

Owen laughed even harder when Jack carefully broached the subject. “Are you kidding me? He was too busy ogling you to ever notice me, thank Christ. Would have been awkward if he did, I always saw him more as a little brother, really.” Well, didn’t that make Jack feel supremely awkward. His son saw his latest lover as a little brother. Weird, even by Jack’s standards. At least Ianto’s teenage crush confession was true. Still a bit weird, but flattering, now that that kid had grown into a gorgeous young man who still found Jack 'disarmingly attractive’ (his words).

“Of course you have my blessings,” Owen griped good-naturedly when Ianto called to ask. In retrospect, calling him during his honeymoon with the woman he loved who he’d only met because Ianto had introduced them had been a good tactical decision. He was feeling charitable towards him, and he was too high on love and sex to begrudge Ianto this.

“Thank you. You can call me ‘Tad’ if you want,” Ianto countered, because he was still a little shit with a sarcastic streak a mile wide and a penchant for annoying Owen even when he was technically begging for his blessing to date Owen’s father.

“Fuck off,” Owen told him, but there was no bite to it, he sounded amused if anything, and Ianto knew then that Owen had meant it.

“Of course. I won’t rush you. I can wait until it feels organic, son.”

Owen hung up on him. Less than a minute later, Ianto got a text message that said. ‘If you break his heart, I’ll kick your arse xoxo’. He sent back a string of heart emojis.

A year and a half later, Ianto called Owen to tell him he was planning to propose. Owen demanded to be his best man.

The year Owen turned thirty-one, Jack and Ianto adopted two siblings (a little boy and a baby girl). They named Owen their godfather (yes, both of them).

That day, as Owen was asked to sign the papers that would legally make him the children’s guardian in case anything happened to their fathers, he remembered the day he met Jack, when his mother had brought him over for the first time. He remembered, a bit blurry due to time, the talks Jack and his mother had had with him when they were in the process of splitting up, how Jack had fought to convince them both that he should be the one to raise Owen. He recalled, like a much-beloved photograph he took out to stare at when he needed it, the well-worn memory of walking into their new house for the first time, and realising that it was real, that Jack really did mean to adopt him, that he’d really be living with him from then on; that Jack really wanted him. He remembered all the times Jack had told him that family wasn’t blood, family was love, and trust, and commitment. And he remembered, with perfect, stunning clarity, a 15-year-old Ianto telling him he’d like to adopt when he was older, even if he ended up with someone who could get pregnant.

He also remembered a 15-year-old Ianto making heart eyes at his father in their living-room while Owen struggled not to laugh at him, and really, one had to respect a man who stuck to his convictions. Ianto certainly knew what he wanted and put in the work to get it.

At least he was pretty sure he could trust Ianto with Jack’s heart.

(Epilogue:

Because Ianto has a terrible sense of humour, he spends an entire summer calling Owen ‘son’ and ‘kid’ and ‘sport’. Owen makes a face the first couple of times, but he’s brought around pretty quickly between 1) the way Katie laughs whenever Ianto does this, and 2) the bewildered looks it gets them whenever someone hears it, because not only is Ianto younger than Owen, he also looks it. It makes for interesting situations.

So rather than be annoyed, Owen starts to enjoy it. He decides to lean into it, starts calling Ianto ‘tad’ and ‘dad’ and ‘father’, and one memorable time ‘the man who literally birthed me’. Katie chokes on her drink and laughs so hard her abdomen hurts for the next day. Jack actually falls off his chair laughing. Ianto looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, the little shit.

And they were a loving family who were disgustingly happy for the rest of their lives and never had tragedy befall them, not even once, the end.)