#One time I held a passionate speech about how I think we should introduce more neoliberalist logic

[polaroidcats]

51 and 63!!!

51. Are you a good liar?

hmmm I think I'm an okay liar? I am never sure if I'm a good liar bc whenever I lie it feels so obvious to me haha but I actually think it doesn't come across that way. I try not to lie much though, but ofc sometimes I do, usually just in situations like making small talk with coworkers or stuff like that, I'm very honest to the people I know and trust bc I see no point in lying to them!!

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Ohhh this was so much harder than I thought?? But dinosaurs! Dinosaurs are so cool!! (So are dragons, this really is a rude question, making me chose!)

Ask game!

[angryinternetduck]

Bet On It

HELLO i’m back again with not only another fic but another friends to lovers!!! here’s 5.9k on hotel mishaps, long-term bets, and falling in love. featuring harry styles x reader with just a few warnings of explicit language and alcohol consumption.

enjoy!!!

masterlist | ask

***

Five Years Ago

If you hadn’t met him an hour before in the bar of the hotel, you would’ve said no. Share a hotel room with a stranger just because the hotel fucked up and double booked a room? No. Absolutely not.

Except -

His name was Harry. He was very cute. And sweet. He complimented your shoes in the bar, dimpling at you all cutely before holding out his hand and introducing himself. He let you prattle on for way too long, laughing at all your jokes and nodding gravely when you started getting serious.

And surprisingly, when you said you had to go, he didn’t ask you out or try to kiss you. He just told you it was nice to meet you with a smile. Problem was that that wasn’t the last you saw of him; when you went up to the desk to get your key card, the receptionist informed you of the mistake.

“We’ve double booked it. You’ll have to work it out amongst yourselves,” they said. “We can suggest other places to stay, or you can sleep in the lobby. Or - of course, you can always share. He’s over there. Guy in the pink shirt.”

You looked over, and lo and behold…

“Harry.”

“We meet again.”

“Was this your doing?” you joked. “All that to get me in a room with you?”

Harry grinned. “I wish I were that smart.”

“So just coincidence?”

“Or perhaps fate,” Harry replied with a shrug.

“Did you know?” you asked. “When you, uh - introduced yourself?”

He shook his head and said, “Not that it was you.”

“Well, now that you do, what do you say? Share the room?”

Harry tilted his head from side to side, pondering. “Let’s prove it was fate,” he decided, meeting your gaze with a grin. Your brows furrowed, and he clarified. “Rock, paper, scissors. I win, we’ll share. You win, I’ll find somewhere else to stay.” He held out his fist.

“Won’t make me find somewhere else?” you asked, smiling a bit. “Would rather share?”

He shrugged.

“Alright, then.”

Both of you counted silently, in your heads -

Rock, paper, scissors…

Harry grinned, and you made a fist from your scissors to bump his rock.

“Fate it is,” you said.

Fate proved to be in your favor; that night, you had the most fun you’d ever had in your life. To your surprise, however, the fun didn’t involve sex. Just talking. You sat on the bed drinking booze from the minifridge and talking until dawn with this Harry Styles.

It came up at one point, sex - or at least kissing did - but neither ever happened.

It was around three, when the exhaustion had set in, when you were lying down, gazing into each other’s eyes, half asleep. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” he’d whispered, and you grinned at him. “I should be asking you that, don’t you think?”

He looked confused. “Why’s that?”

“You’re the one in love with me,” you told him.

He giggled, rubbing his eyes. “And what makes you say that?”

“You wanted to share!” you exclaimed, like it was obvious, because it was.

“Sharing is caring.”

You bounced your brows. “Caring. Loving.”

Harry laughed and insisted, “Not the same!”

“I’d bet a million bucks you’re in love with me,” you murmured, tapping his nose.

“Then a million bucks you’d lose.”

“You will be,” you said, nodding slightly.

“Yeah?” Harry asked, a smile growing on his lips.

“Yeah.”

“Do you have a million bucks to give me on my deathbed when I still only care?” he said.

“Do you have a million bucks to give me when you confess?” you said back.

He stared at you for a second. His eyes were very green, his smile very wistful. “A kiss.”

“A kiss?” you echoed.

Harry nodded. “I will bet you one kiss that I will never fall in love with you.”

“You’re gonna want a lot more than one kiss when you inevitably do,” you whispered.

“At least one kiss,” he amended.

“At least one kiss,” you agreed.

“Shake on it?”

You both shifted around in the bed so you could shake hands without sitting up.

“It’s a bet,” Harry said.

And so it was.

***

Present Day

“Give it to me straight, Styles,” you greet Harry, plopping down at your table with a sigh.

He hesitates for a moment, drawing out the suspense, and then breathes, “Care.”

You shake your head disappointedly. “Unbelievable, how bad you are at lying, you -”

Harry interrupts, “What’s really unbelievable is your tardiness -”

Then you do: “Your annoyingness -”

He pouts and fires back, “Your vocabulary -”

“Your lack thereof -”

“That’s not proper English.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “You’re not proper English.”

“I promise you I am,” he replies with a smirk.

“I’ve always thought the accent was fake.”

“If it were, I’d be the greatest impersonator to walk the earth.”

“Impersonator?” you repeat. “And tell me, what is an impersonator but a talented liar?”

He gives you a grin. “I’ll take the compliment of talented, thank you.”

Leveling his gaze, you smile back and take a sip of your drink. “You know, I think that actually was proper English,” you muse. “Lack thereof. Your vocabulary - or lack thereof.” Harry bites his lip, eyes narrowed, staring at you, and you’re tempted to joke that his focus is lust when he replies, “It’s still wrong. I was saying your vocabulary is naive, and by saying I have none, you’re fundamentally saying the same. It’s redundant.”

Clearly satisfied with himself, he sits back, smiles smugly, and takes a sip of his coffee.

“Harry Styles,” you say, “I’m going to smack that smirk right off your pretty face.”

“Second compliment in a day!” Harry exclaims. “Someone alert the press.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your own drink. “Why, they’d have a field day.”

The little cafe you’re in is absolutely adorable. It’s midway between your place and Harry’s, and after that fateful night in the hotel (during which you learned you live so close to each other), you began a tradition of meeting here once a week.

Tradition doesn’t end with just the location and time. Each meeting is almost exactly the same. You’re always late, and you always greet him the same way: some variation of “Have you fallen in love with me yet?”

And his reply is always the same: negative.

From there, the conversation wanders as much as it ever does, with one asking about the other’s week and the response being long and filled with complaints and woes and lamentations. The question is echoed back, and the response is - again - long, filled with complaints, woes, etc.

Despite the moaning and groaning, the mood never falls too low. It’s impossible to feel down around Harry Styles; just one look at those dimples makes a smile of your own appear on your face.

Your friendship with him has certainly blossomed. It’s a wonder he hasn’t fallen in love yet (or maybe he has, you’ll never know unless he says), and a greater wonder still that he hasn’t turned the question around on you.

Because the answer would be yes. You have, in fact, fallen in love with him.

Deeply, madly, in love.

But he’ll never know, because you’ll never say.

***

“I love you,” you tell Harry breathlessly, looking up at him lovingly. “Most ardently.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, no - I’m just a girl! I’m just a girl, standing in front of -”

“I’ll always be there for you!” you cut in excitedly. “All the love in my heart, Llo -”

“Michael, I love you!” Harry gushes. “Choose me, marry me, let me make you happy!”

You jump up and jut a finger at him dramatically. “We live in a cynical world!” you exclaim. “A cynical world, and we work in a business of tough competitors. I love you! You - you complete me!”

Harry jumps up to match you and begins, “I hate that -” then shakes his head and restarts, “I hate the way you’re always right, I hate it when you lie - I hate it when you make me laugh and - and - and even worse when you make me cry - I hate the way - I hate it when” - he’s grinning big now, jumping with excitement and passion - “you’re not around and the fact you didn’t call - but - but mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even a little bit, not even at all!”

It all came out in a rush of jumbled words and you’re so impressed you can’t help but sit back down and clap for him. Bright red, Harry takes a bow and collapses onto his couch next to you. “That took way too much effort,” he says, out of breath.

“It was worth it,” you tell him. “That was dazzling, really. You should go on the road.”

Harry nods. “One man show. Shakespeare. All of his long monologues, then bam - a poem better than all the others combined.” You giggle and fall into him, leaning against his chest with a sigh. “I’ll come with you,” you say. “Follow you to the ends of the earth and hold my breath to Pluto.”

“What’s that from?” Harry asks.

“That’s all me, baby.”

“Maybe the poem better than all the others combined could be yours.”

“Impossible,” you say immediately. “Nothing will ever beat Kat Stratford.”

“I’ll manage.”

You scoff. “You?”

“We.”

You shake your head. “There’s no ‘we’ in genius, Styles, but there is an I.”

“And a U!” Harry replies.

You look up at him.

“Wait.”

Snickering, you sit up and stretch your arms towards the ceiling. “Stick to memorization, maybe. Leave the heavy lifting to me. You need some practice on that speech, anyway - I counted at least three errors, not to mention the stuttering.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Harry sings. “What do you say, can I confess my love to you every night for the sake of practice?” You shake your head, standing up again and grabbing an empty container of food to throw away. “Not without losing the bet.”

Harry follows you, cleaning up as he goes. “Just for the one man show!”

“No exceptions.” You grin at him, grabbing your stuff and heading for the door. “Thanks for the food, Styles. I’ll see you Sunday?” Harry nods and blows you a kiss, which you catch and put in your pocket. “I’ll save that for when you lose the bet,” you tell him.

“Get outta here,” Harry laughs.

You stick your tongue out at him and stick a post it note on the door frame as you leave.

***

Harry usually wakes up to a few texts. Maybe a call every so often. Notifications from social media aren’t uncommon. The only days he wakes up to nearly a hundred texts are the nights you decide to go to the outlook.

Whether or not you like staying up late normally, you stay up until the wee hours of the morning to go to this place you found about three hours outside of the city. It’s a bit of a drive, but it’s completely worth it.

There’s a little woods out there, and a while ago you went a bit off path and found an outcropping of rocks that look out over the city. At night, stars are visible. There’s nothing you love more than lying for hours on the cool stone, gazing up at the heavens above.

The first time you took Harry to the outlook, you asked a question, and Harry’s answer to that question was one of the only lies he’s ever told you. You’d asked, “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

And Harry had said, “Of course not!” when in reality, he’d been looking for an opening to mention that very fear for the twenty minutes before, while you’d been climbing steadily uphill through the trees.

In his defense, there was no way he could’ve said anything different. You were just so happy, glowing with excitement and practically buzzing with energy. Plus, you’d grabbed his hand at the moment you asked to pull him up the last ridge and he was still a bit startled.

He never came to regret that lie. He grew out of the fear, anyway, so it wasn’t a huge deal. In fact, he’s almost come to love heights. He loves the thrill, the burst of happiness, the insane phenomenon of a racing heart and the feeling of being totally at peace all at the same time.

Incidentally, he also feels that way around you, whether the two of you are a hundred feet up or not. He’s always enjoyed spending time with you, and even just seeing you makes him happy. It’s what makes you a good friend.

Harry’s gone with you a few times to the outlook, but it’s usually pretty late by the time you want to go. Sometimes you’ll call him and he’ll pick up, and you’ll talk on the phone until one of you falls asleep.

You went last night, apparently, because Harry scrolls through seventy-two text messages this morning. It takes a while, since he reads all of them and then replies, but he woke up early anyway so it’s fine.

It’s Sunday, so he’s headed to the cafe to meet you. He has a cup of coffee even though he’ll get one at the cafe, too. There’s a sticky note on the coffee maker - Note to self: tell Harry there’s a snickers bar in his sweatshirt pocket - which you probably left a few days ago.

Harry smiles at the note, then frowns, sticking his hand in his pocket. There is, in fact, a Snickers bar in there, and Harry throws it out. It’s from almost a month ago, when you and him had an August Halloween. The sun is just a little too bright. Harry listens to music in the car, humming along and tapping his hands against the wheel in time.

You’re late, of course, so he orders his second cup of coffee and reads a newspaper on the shelf while he waits. Today it’s five minutes until you arrive, which is actually more on time than usual, and Harry throws you a large brimmed hat he found in his closet when you approach the table.

“What say you, Harry Styles,” you greet him, catching the hat and placing it on your head. “Make a jester laugh” - you form a heart with your fingers - “or make a jester cry?” Your heart cracks in two as you pout at him.

Breaking a finger-heart of his own, Harry grins. “Laughing clowns were always creepier to me,” he tells you. You trace a finger down your cheek like a tear and sit down across from him, sliding a menu from its place on the wall and beginning to read it over.

You look up at him, half smiling, a joke on your lips, and then -

Harry blinks.

Just like that, something’s changed.

You snap in front of his face. “Hello? Anything? You could at least pretend to laugh.”

“Christ, sorry,” Harry breathes. “What’d you say?”

Raising a brow, you lean forward and inspect him. “You alright, there, Styles?”

“If I were any better and it’d be obscene,” Harry answers easily, tapping your nose.

Grinning, you sit back. “Fantastic. Tell me, then, how it’s been. Fill me in.”

“It’s a lot better seeing you in that hat.”

“Oh, I forgot!” you exclaim, looking up at it.

Harry giggles and asks, “You wanna know what one hat said to the other?”

“Oh, boy.”

“I’ll see you on a-head!”

Groaning dramatically, you throw the hat at him and bury your face in your hands.

***

"This is getting embarrassing, Styles,” you say as you walk up to Harry.

He turns around, a smile already on his face, and begins, “What’s -”

He stops when he sees you, because you’re all dressed up. You look absolutely stunning, which was on purpose, because of course you want to see his reaction, whether he loves you or not. And it’s very satisfactory, this reaction.

“You look fantastic,” Harry says softly.

You clear your throat, a little put off by how serious he’s being. “That was the goal.”

His eyes float back up to meet yours, a small smile on his face. “Thank you for coming.”

“You’re welcome,” you chirp. “But don’t let your head get too big - I only came for the free food and movie.” Finally, the glaze over his eyes fades, and he grins at you. He takes your arm, and as you walk, he asks, “You started a thought, you know, about something embarrass-”

You scoff. “You asked me on a date, Styles!”

“I did not!” Harry insists. He shakes his head. “My date ducked out at the last second -”

Smirking, you cut in, “Wonder why, Mr. Pink Suit.”

“- we were going to match, thank you - but really, she ducked out, and I wasn’t about to waste two perfectly good tickets. Thus… here we are.” He nods, like he’s pleased with his answer, but you raise a brow at him. “That’s a terrible excuse. You can just say you love me. I’ll accept.”

You arrive at his car. “Not yet,” he says, and then he gets in.

He starts the car, and for a moment, you gaze out the window.

Then, breaking the silence, you say, “I like the suit.”

“I like the look.”

“Thanks, I came up with it all by myself.”

“Impressive.”

You wait a moment, and then ask, “What inspired the pink?”

“She said she wanted a pink rose.”

Frowning, you begin, “I thought you said pink roses are -”

“Yeah, they’re not my favorite,” he mumbles.

You snicker a little. “Oh, what a bad date in high school can get you…”

“Hey, don’t tease,” Harry whines with a pout.

“Sorry, sorry,” you murmur. “You’re nice to dress up anyway. No rose, though?”

Sheepishly, he tells you, “I… forgot.”

“You forgot?” you laugh.

“Yeah…”

“Well, um… well, it’s the thought that counts.”

Harry pulls into the parking lot and parks the car, then unlocks the doors. “Come on,” he says, but you frown at him, confused. “You know you pulled in the wrong way?” you ask, but he just beckons with his hand and opens the trunk.

You hadn’t even looked - there’s pillows back there, and candy, and blankets, and he flicks on little fairy lights. “Harry Styles, you romantic!” you gasp, enthralled. “Wow, I gotta meet this girl, if you’re doing all this for her…”

He sits down and pats the space next to him, then grabs a pack of candy - your favorite. He hands it to you, which you take with a slow smile. “Her favorite too?” you ask. “Nope,” Harry replies, shaking his head as he opens his own pack of candy. “Forgot to ask her, but when I called her in the store she wouldn’t pick up so I just… got yours.” He clears his throat and hands you a bag of popcorn. “There’s this, too.”

“Thanks, Styles.”

On the huge screen in front of you, the movie begins to roll. You take a risk, sliding a little on the seat so you’re leaning against Harry, head against his chest. You can feel him breathing, his heart beating, his arm around your waist, thumb gently moving back and forth over the fabric of your clothes.

You fall asleep for most of the movie.

When you wake up, you’re leaned against a pillow, not Harry. Frowning and out of sorts, you sit up and rub your eyes. He’s leaned against the car outside, on the phone, and you can just barely make out what he’s saying.

“... I know, it’s… Yeah, I - I’m sorry you couldn’t make it, love. I missed you…”

The familiar feeling of tears building behind your eyes horrifies you, and you have to turn your back to him as tears start slipping down your cheeks. You’d somehow managed to convince yourself that it was all a ruse, that he’d meant it to be you from the start, that there was no other girl, that all along it was -

“Hey,” Harry says.

You cough, palming away the tears on your face and yawning like you’d just woken up. “Oh, hey… How’s, um - how’s she doing? Or - whoever - I mean -” You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“She’s fine,” Harry tells you. “How are you? Took a pretty long nap there…”

“Yeah,” you murmur. “I was… I’m tired.”

“C’mon, then, let’s get you home.” He smiles at you, dimpling adorably, and holds out his hand. You take it and slide off the back of his car. “Thanks,” you say. He nods and shuts the trunk while you get into the passenger seat.

You don’t say anything as he starts the car, as he backs out and heads for your place. He glances over at you, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, and eventually turns on the radio. You fold up a sticky note and covertly slide it into the center console.

“I’ll see you Sunday,” you tell him when he stops the car.

He nods. “See you then.”

You hold his gaze for a second, and then get out of the car. As you’re shutting the door, Harry says, “Hey!” and you stop. “Hey, er - thank you. For coming tonight. I know it was a little… It was a bit much.”

“Not too much at all,” you say softly. “Bye, Harry.”

You shut the door.

***

The sticky note business began about a year after Harry met you. He’d mentioned something about refrigerator magnets being the most charming form of communication ever invented, and the next day he found a sticky note on his mirror that said, Note to self: find a more charming form of communication than refrigerator magnets.

Harry doesn’t find the sticky note in his console until the next night, when he’s driving home after working late and he’s trying to find his phone. It’s ringing, and it’s your ringtone, which is really, really annoying because you set it to the worst song you could think of so he’d be motivated to pick it up fast.

It’s not in the center console. It’s actually in his pocket. He picks it up.

“Harry, you gotta tell me now,” you say immediately. “Do you love me?”

“I -”

“Love or care, Styles.” You sound breathless. “L or C. Lover or Cunt. Tell me now.”

“Cunt,” Harry says reflexively, and then shakes his head. “I mean -”

“You don’t love me.” You don’t sound upset at all. You’re just clarifying.

Harry frowns. “I… What’s going on?”

“Well, I think I love this guy, Styles, and I’m about to fuck him, so I’ll talk to you later.”

And then you hang up.

Harry stares at his phone for a moment. Then he puts it down, frowning at the street in front of him, and thinks for a while until he gets home. When he does, he’s shutting the center console, which he’d left open, and he sees the little post it note.

Note to self: buy a pink rose for h to make him like them bc they’re pretty

Sitting in his car, staring at the note, Harry can’t help but think he’s messed it all up.

***

Sunday. You don’t show up.

***

Another Sunday. Harry orders a coffee and reads the newspaper.

You don’t show up.

***

You answer a text.

He asks if you’re okay, and you say, Yup!

***

You send a text.

Hey, Styles? Can you bring me a flower?

***

He should’ve gone to your place first, Harry’s thinking. He should’ve checked there, and then gone here. But it’s too late now. He’s stepping out of his car, trekking through the forest, and he’s finally here, and -

You’re on your back, staring at the stars.

“You know, I really thought he was the one.”

Harry bites on his lip and fiddles with the flower in his hands. “Did you?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then you sigh and sit up. “No.”

“He didn’t - you’re not… You’re okay, right?”

“Nothing’s broken but my heart,” you murmur. “Physically, I’m fine, emotionally, I’m…”

You fade off, and Harry sits next to you and hands you the flower.

“Yellow,” you whisper. You look up at him, eyes wide in the moonlight. “Why yellow?”

“Color of your shirt the first time I met you.”

Smiling, you murmur, “Memory of an elephant.”

“I couldn’t remember her favorite candy,” Harry says impulsively. He shuts his eyes, exhaling softly. “Sorry. Wrong thing to say.” You shake your head, looking forward again. “It’s fine. How’s she doing?”

“Wouldn’t know.”

Surprised, you glance at him again. “You mean you -?”

Harry shrugs. “She said my priorities weren’t right. Then she said goodbye.”

“We’re just a coupla broken hearted fools, aren’t we?” you say quietly.

“Broken hearted, yes,” Harry replies, “but I’m not a fool. Don’t know about you.”

You scoff, hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “We’re having a moment here!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry says, but he’s laughing so the apology is moot.

There’s a beat of silence, and then you say, “I would’ve known about her if I hadn’t missed all our Sundays. I’m sorry.” Harry shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Did you have fun, at least? With Mr. Heartbreak?”

You giggle. “So much fun.”

“Well… that’s good, at least.”

He looks at you, really looks, and for a moment, he forgets himself.

You’re looking up at the stars, your head tilted up, your lips curved upwards in a smile.

Harry’s expression matches yours. It’s one of quiet awe, of happiness and joy and adoration. He’s smiling, too, but it’s not as conscious. It’s more reflexive, something he can’t help but do whenever he catches sight of this view. He’s not looking at the stars, though - his gaze is focused on you.

“Come on!” you exclaim suddenly, jumping up. “This is the perfect excuse to watch The Notebook again.” Harry blinks, standing up and following you back to his car. “You took the words right out of my mouth,” he says.

***

Ideally, on the anniversary of your meeting Harry, you’d both rent a hotel room and get drunk on the minibar, talking nonsense until morning, to properly reenact that first night together. Problem with that is that hotel rooms cost money.

So instead, you have a sleepover. Last year it was at your place, so this year it’s at his. The good thing about not being in a hotel is that you can buy normal size bottles of booze, rather than the teeny ones from the minibar.

He’s grabbing everything from the kitchen while you’re queueing up the movie on the TV in his room. It’s not cooperating, though, and you’re rooting through all the wires in the back to try and find something that’s supposed to be connected.

“Harry, if you don’t get in here this second!” you shout at him.

“Did you get the other remote?” he shouts back.

You groan and whine, “Just come in here!”

“I haven’t gotten everything yet! Look for the second remote. It’s in one of the drawers.”

“Which drawers?” you yell.

He doesn’t reply.

So you ruffle through the drawers closest to the TV. Books, papers, chargers. No remotes. You go further and find his record collection. A few photo albums. You stick a sticky note on the top one that says, Note to self: go through these. There’s more books. A few DVDs.

And then - a folder. It has a yellow flower on it.

Frowning, you glance at the door behind you and then flip it open. What must be a hundred post it notes fall out. Your jaw drops, just slightly, because they’re all from you. Every sticky note you’ve ever left him is in this folder. He kept them all.

“Did you find it?” Harry shouts.

You ask, “Find what?” but your voice is too soft and he doesn’t hear you.

He shouts your name again, and you quickly shove the folder back where you got it. You clear your throat, then yell, “Harry, I can’t find it!” Finally, he comes in, arms full of food and drink, and tugs open the top drawer on his bedside table with his foot.

And there it is.

“Have I got to do everything around here or what?” he jokes.

You give him a laugh and set up the TV, which works just fine now that you have the right tools. Harry sets everything down and puts his hands on his hips, raising a brow at you. “You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah, fine,” you tell him. “Just grew a few white hairs waiting for you to come back.”

He sticks his tongue out and tosses a bag of chips at you. “Ha, ha, very funny.”

Finally, the movie’s set up, and you lean against his bed, sighing in contentment as the opening credits start to play. Harry hands you a glass and holds his own out, which you knock against your own. “Cheers, Styles,” you say. “To five years.”

“And counting.”

Grinning, you drink up and then settle back to watch the film.

***

His voice is thick.

Like honey.

It drips off his tongue, catches on his lips, slides down the column of his throat and glistens in the dim light. It’s rich. Deep. It turns to crystal in the cool air around you as his words fade off. You want to reach out and feel it on your fingers, want to taste it on your tongue, want to feel it slide over your lips, down your throat…

“... and then, suddenly, I was flying out the window with the worst pain I’ve ever -”

“Harry,” you interrupt with a giggle, “this is the third time you’ve told this story tonight.”

“It’s a good story!”

“Lemme see,” you say, crawling forward, and you’re on his lap now but you can’t really bring yourself to care because this is for scientific purposes. Harry grins and puts his hands on your waist and you giggle again and put your fingers on his jaw. “Lemme see your tongue.”

“Wanna see it or touch it?”

You smirk and reply, “How ‘bout lick it?”

“That’s gross!” Harry exclaims with a delighted laugh.

“I know!” you exclaim back, equally delighted.

“It’s broken,” Harry says, but he’s opening his mouth so it comes out all warbled. “I’m broken, you know -” You peer at his tongue, but it doesn’t look very broken. “No, you’re not,” you tell him.

“On the inside,” Harry says, pouting at you.

You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, nestling your head on his shoulder in a hug. “You’re warm,” you say, “that’s what you are.” Harry nods against you, running his hands up and down your back. “You fix me,” he slurs into your neck.

“That’s so romantic!” you giggle.

You sit there for a second, breathing him in, feeling happy, and then suddenly -

“I’m roasting,” Harry says, and it’s morning.

“I’m so hot,” you groan, “and my head hurts so bad…”

Harry grunts and pushes against you. “Get off me.”

You open your eyes, squinting in the sunlight, and fall off of him and onto the floor.

He stands up, moaning and groaning, and walks out. You may have fallen asleep again because when he comes back in and hands you a glass of water and some medicine you’re blinking back awake. “Thanks,” you mumble, downing both.

“That was something,” Harry says.

“Something for sure,” you say.

“I can’t move,” Harry says.

“Me neither.”

So you don’t. The day drags on, and when you’re both coherent enough for food you go to the kitchen. Harry cooks something up, and you eat it, sitting next to him at the kitchen island. You feel his foot against yours, and you play a half-delirious game of footsie as you finish eating.

Once you’re all done, Harry stands up and starts to wash the dishes. You watch him, watch his back and his arms and the way he moves, and stand up and stand next to him, grabbing a dish towel and holding out your hand. He hands you the plate, and you dry it.

It’s comfortable, the silence, and it’s more than peaceful, standing there drying dishes with Harry in the early afternoon. There aren’t many dishes, but you both take your time, and eventually he breaks the silence and the productivity to put on some music.

And then, suddenly, you’re dancing, a smile on your face that you can’t seem to get rid of curving your lips as you float around the kitchen with him. He’s bopping along to the song, hand in yours, dish towel over his shoulder after he stole it from you.

The dancing carries you to the living room, where he twirls you out so you can collapse onto the couch. He does the same, and you put your feet on his lap, head on the armrest, looking at him.

“You’re staring,” he says.

“You’re in front of me.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

You raise a brow, smiling and still holding his gaze, and then sit up. “Staring contest, go.”

Instantly, he blinks, and you laugh, “Fuck’s sake.”

“No, no, again,” he demands, grinning, and he blinks quickly a few times before declaring, “Go.” The staring begins. Your eyes begin to sting, and you bite your lip, trying to keep your eyes open.

“We should watch Bird Box,” Harry whispers.

“Saw it last week.”

“I saw it,” he corrects. “You hid behind your hands the entire time.”

“You were the one screaming like a baby.”

“I prefer rom-coms, you know that.”

“Sometimes you need a little variety in life.”

“I lost the bet.”

You blink.

“Victory,” Harry says, a bit weakly, blinking too.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“Victory,” Harry repeats, smiling sheepishly.

“No, no, before that,” you insist, shaking your head.

“I lost the bet,” Harry repeats softly.

You swallow thickly. “What bet?”

Harry bites his lip, concentrating, and then stands up and walks away. You scoff, following him, and ask again. “What bet?” He shakes his head, quiet, and opens his refrigerator, looking for something.

“Harry, for the love of -”

He holds out a kiss. A chocolate kiss.

Your eyes widen.

He steps closer, holding the kiss out on his palm. “I lost the bet,” he says. “I fell in love with you.” Your breath catches in your throat. “I don’t know if you feel the same,” he goes on, “so I… I don’t want to kiss you. I mean - I do, but -”

He holds the kiss closer to you. “I lost,” he finishes quietly.

You can’t find the right words.

So instead, you close the distance and kiss him.

The chocolate kiss falls to the floor, and fireworks erupt behind your eyelids.

After a moment, the words come.

And then, when you pull away for a moment, you both speak at the same time -

“I love you.”

Laughter bubbles from your lips, and Harry grins, kissing you again.

“So I guess I didn’t lose after all,” he murmurs.

You smile against his lips. “Let’s call it a tie.”

***

AHHHH there it is!!!! i actually did write this in like . two days . which was ! great haha but i hope u liked it!!!! if u did, feedback and a reblog would be much appreciated 💜

thanks for reading!

masterlist | ask

[sidespart]

For the fic title thing: Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I’m Falling

Make Up Your Mind (this seriously got away from me and became basically a whole string of conscious fic whoops)

Logince, Bakery/coffeeshop AU Mutual Pining/ Not-Actually-Unrequited love, + loceit friendship

So Janus owns a Bakery (struggling to think of a snake/lie based bread pun for the name but ehh). He is the head only baker and sends most of his time in the basement kitchen blasting the phantom of the opera soundtrack and kneading dough. 

Logan is his childhood friend. Janus hired him as cashier after Logan dropped out of collage but then he never left and is now basically manager/ accountant/ hbic of this whole operation.

So one night as Janus is leaving he’s casually like: ‘oh by the way, a couple are coming by tomorrow for a wedding cake consultation’

And Logan blocks the door and is like: ‘Janus. We don’t do wedding cakes. We don’t even do cake. You only make weird artisanal bread. it took me 6 months and 8 powerpoint presentations to convince you to sell banana loaf’

Jan, his eye enormous: ‘but Logan, you should have heard this guy on the phone. They only want to use LGBTQ businesses for their wedding, they want to support the community that’s supported them for so long. He spoke so passionately and eloquently about why it just had to be us I couldn't say no’

Logan, his eyes not enormous: did you tell this man we make wedding cakes just to make the phone conversation end?

Janus: I was going to miss the murder, she wrote marathon, Logan 

So Jan manages to escape, and Logan rolls his eyes but like. This is nowhere near the worst ‘cleaning up after Janus lied to get out of a situation and made everything more complicated for no goddamm reason’ incident that he has had to deal with during the course of their friendship so, whatever: he can tell the couple there was a miscommunication when they show up in the morning. 

Next day, the guys arrive. Virgil, who barley introduces himself and then stays hunched in his hoodie not speaking for the whole meeting, and Roman. 

Roman does not have a problem speaking. Roman has lots of ideas.

Roman has a binder. 

Somehow in the course of this conversation Logan goes from ‘we don’t make wedding cakes’ to ‘I’LL SHOW YOU, WE’LL MAKE THE BEST GODDAMM WEDDING CAKE THIS TOWN HAS EVER SEEN’

Maybe it was the passion of Romans argument. Maybe it was the slightly disdainful look on his face when he looked round the shop. Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of money he was prepared to pay (see: Janus insists on only making specific, weird bread as to why the shop’s always on the brink of collapse). Maybe it was the power of the binder (Logan is like 80% sure Roman hit him with the binder at one point). Maybe its just Logan hasn't had a full blown passionate argument like that since high school debate club and the rush of adrenaline made him dumb.

Whatever the reason - they’re now fully committed to making this 6 tier, purple and blue, Disney inspired, multiflavoured wedding cake

(Janus, who skipped out on the meeting because he is Like That: But Logan....we don’t make wedding cakes...this was really irresponsible of you...

 Logan: I know where you sleep. I could kill you at any time) 

Which would be doable (the weddings a while off, and Logan is ready to RESEARCH) except Roman keeps. Coming. Back. 

With new ideas. And tweaks. And suggestions. All of them seemingly designed to make the cake less structurally sound. 

Basically every time he comes in they end up having a blazing row, first about Romans inability to make up his mind about the cake and then about...literally everything. One time they spent 25 minuets arguing about whether or not Shakespeare wrote all of his plays, which somehow turns into ‘who was the best host of blues clues?’ which then turned  into ‘how would nationalised healthcare best be implemented?’ (the loudest arguments were during the blues clues section).Logan had even fewer customers then normal that day.

(Logan: I hate that guy so much! He shows up at 2pm every day and now my blood pressure has started going up at 1.55pm in anticipation of the fight! He’s causing me actual medical distress because he’s so stupid!

Janus:...you’ve memorised some guys schedule and your heart starts racing whenever you see him?

Logan: yes! because he is my enemy!

Janus:...

Janus: mmKay.)

ANYway, one day Roman turns up and is like: Can’t fight today. Need caffeine. Must Study. and sequesters himself on one of their two rinky dink tables and starts pulling enormous textbooks out of his bag. Turns out Roman is in law school, he’s back home for the whole summer to help with wedding prep and has been neglecting his summer reading. He wants to be an environmental lawyer and, ideally, singly handily prosecute every oil company and give a speech at the UN whilst wearing an immaculately fitted Italian suit. 

Logan has a panicked moment of OH NO HE’S SMART (he doesn't need an oh no he’s hot moment because Roman’s been hot the whole time). Very carefully he does not think about how upset hearing Roman mention the wedding again made him feel, and then shares a bit about his own anxiety during college which led to him dropping out.

Roman says degree or no degree its obvious Logan is one of the smartest, most capable people Romans ever met.

Cue: blushing, stammering, Logan standing up to quickly and knocking half a pot of coffee over etc etc all that good fluff. 

And after that their conversations are less confrontational (although they still debate like. everything.) and more friendly.

They have one (1) more conversation about the wedding wherein Roman apologises for being so stressed and snappy over all the preparation stuff but he just wants everything to be perfect for Virgil. (Logan, awkwardly: you must love him a lot. Roman, himbo-ly: Yeah!) aaand then Logan changes the subject to the best rhyming structure because Romans big sappy grin is making his heart do awful twisty things-

And eventually, Roman asks Logan to go out with him outside the bakery.

Logan: hahaha this is friendship, we are great friends, we are going out as friends. I am not going on a date with a man with a fiancé because that would be the actions of a crazy person.

 So they go on their date. It’s amazing. Roman leans in for a kiss at the end and Logan is delighted!

And then devastated.

He pushes Roman away, yells some creative insult (malodorous centurion?) and flees. Spends the next week basically hiding in the kitchen area, refusing to see any customers and working on the wedding cake.

(which is looking perfect by the way)

So after a week of Logan moping round the kitchen Janus finally blocks the door to stop him leaving and demand he tells him what the hell is wrong. And after a few minuets of filibustering Logan ends up telling him everything.

“In any case, the very fact that he is the kind of man who would cheat on his fiancé means he’s not the kind of man I thought he was. Therefore any alleged feelings I may have developed towards him would now be null and void” says Logan, looking like the worlds sadist accountant

Janus: So...wait. You’re saying wedding cake guy and hot lawyer guy are the same person?

(Logan: you need to come out of the basement more often Janus: YOU need to tell me what’s going on in your life more often. (they have had this conversation many times in the past))

So Janus sincerely tells Logan he’s sorry...and that he’s even more sorry that he needs him to help him deliver the cake to the venue tomorrow.

(this thing is way to big for one person to carry and there’s no way Jan would trust any of their occasional teenage cover staff to do this and ‘we’ll go round the back and you wont have to see anyone anyway comon Lo’ you basically built this monstrosity you should see it home)

So, reluctantly, Logan goes. And they go round the back as promised, and get this enormous cake settled, and then get told to wait there one sec cus one of the grooms is going to come sign for it and before Logan can throw himself out of the widow (get OFF me Janus we’re on the ground floor it’s FINE)  from behind them they hear squeeing.

There’s a curly haired dude in a pastel blue linen suit who Logan has never seen before in his life looking at the cake and cooing over ‘all the little details! its perfect! oh Virgil is going to love this! You know he was so embarrassed about asking for a Disney themed cake he had to ask Roman to go with him to -”

“Who ARE you?”

The man blinked at Logan, who realised dimly that he still had one foot up on the windowsill and slowly returned it to the floor. 

“I’m Patton” said Patton.

“And I’m Janus” said Janus, removing his arms from where they’d still been clamped around Logan’s waist and stepping smoothly towards Patton, clipboard held aloft “A pleasure to meet you, if you could just sign here...”

“BUT-” Patton paused, hand still raised to accept the clipboard, and looked over again at Logan who found himself mumbling:  “but - but the groom is supposed to sign for it?”

And Patton just smiled at him looking a bit bemused and goes ‘I am the groom? And who are you kiddo?”

Logan says he’s Logan. Patton suddenly looks a whole lot less friendly. 

“Oh.” says Patton. “You.”

And since Logan’s mind is currently refusing to take in the information in front of him Janus is the one who ends up stepping in between them and going “so just for 100% transparency - you are Patton. 

“yes?”

“and today you are marrying the love of your life: Virgil?”

“Yes!”

“And are either of you, at any point today, also planning on marrying one Roman Sanders, caffeine addict and terrible communicator?”

And Paton burst out laughing and says “ROMAN? Virgil’s big brother Roman? He’s my best man but I don’t think we’re planning to take it any further...”. And because Patton is apparently much quicker on the emotional uptake than Logan he gives him a vey soft, if slightly exasperated, look and says:

“Roman - who again, is my future brother-in-law- is helping set up in the main hall.”

And Logan likes to think he said thank you before he took off fucking RUNNING through the building but he can’t be sure.

So he gets to the hall, where a load of people are setting out chairs, putting up flowers etc,  and skids to a stop at one end of the aisle. Shouts: “ROMAN.” (Roman and Virgil, who were standing at the other end arguing over a flower arrangements, both look up) “YOU’RE NOT MARRYING YOUR BROTHER.”

“um.” Says Roman “No?”

Explanations are given. Virgil, who is a lot more talkative now that he’s not on 7th wedding appointment of the day burn out, is ready to physically fight Logan for breaking his brothers heart. And then once he understands the full story is ready to kill both of them for being such dumbasses.

Roman: But I s2g I told the guy on the phone that it was the groom and best man coming??? Logan: Yeah he might have lied and said you were a couple for a joke, or he may have just straight up not listened to you. Either way, he is just Like That.

Logan: WHY DID YOU NEVER MENTION VIRGIL WAS YOUR BORTHER?? Roman: I WAS TRYING TO GET TO KNOW YOU AND ALSO SEDUCE YOU WHY WOULD I WASTE TIME TALKING ABOUT MY LITTLE BROTHER??? Virgil: Yeah...he does like talking about himself, sorry he’s just  Like That.

Anyway it all ends fluffily, Patton and Virgil get married. Roman cries. Logan and Jan hang around for the wedding. Roman and Logan hold hands throughout the speeches and dance during the reception. Roman has to go back to law school soon but they agree to call each other every day at 2pm to catch up and argue. 

Janus gets off with the moustachioed DJ. 

And Roman and Logan get another chance at their first kiss.

[mari-beau]

GIVE ME A REASON: PART SEVEN -A Rogue One fanfic

Final part to this story! 😘😘😘

Read on AO3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part Seven

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: None?

Words: 2,888

Story Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

Also can be found on AO3.

Nervous.

The hardened rebel spy was nervous. So was Jyn, of course, but it was still a surprise to find the tangible expression of Cassian’s jangled nerves. She thought he’d be better at hiding it. At hiding all of his emotions when he wanted.

But maybe he didn’t feel the need to hide it from her? Although it was a subconscious tick he probably wasn’t aware of… Which wasn’t helping the butterflies in Jyn’s own stomach. In fact, it was really starting to annoy her.

She reached for his hand, wrapping her fingers around his in an attempt to still their drumming against the side of his leg. He was still standing, but with no thanks to the Alliance. The inconsiderate bastards could’ve maybe provided a chair for the wounded captain. Not that Cassian would’ve accepted, anyway. At least everyone was just milling about until the ceremony started, so they were able to take a position against the wall, allowing Cassian to casually lean against the immense stonework for support.

He’d been looking around the large hall, watching the crowd of Alliance personnel and council members, observing and evaluating, as the spy habitually did. But when she touched him, his eyes snapped immediately to her hand on his. They widened and then that furrow formed between his brows and he frowned.

So that was how it was going to be?

In his bed, he could hold her so tight their bodies practically fused together, could nuzzle her neck, his lips could ghost over her skin in tantalizing, teasing non-kisses, he could lean into the touch of her palm on his cheek, make salacious pleased noises when she stroked his head and neck, or trailed fingers down his spine. But any sort of affectionate display in public wasn’t allowed.

Not that she wouldn’t have grabbed his hand to still his annoyingly drumming fingers if they were only just friends. They were only just friends, anyway.

He twisted his hand free, gently, casually, but removed it from her grasp nonetheless.

His dark eyes met hers and she held the gaze. Let him see the hurt, even as she thought it a stupid thing to feel hurt about. And yet… Meeting Cassian Andor had redefined her world, her existence, how she felt, how she dealt with those feelings. Her very place in the galaxy seemed to have changed.

Because here she was in a giant hall in a ruined temple, surrounded by hundreds of Alliance soldiers, waiting for a princess to tell her ‘good job’ or some such. But even stranger, she was standing beside a person she truly trusted. She couldn’t remember ever trusting anyone before, not wholeheartedly, with no reservations, no reluctance or doubt. Not since she was a child living in that cozy home with her parents that now seemed a dream.

This seemed rather dreamlike, too. Mon Mothma, the head of the Alliance’s council, dressed in regal white, looking like some ethereal being -maybe the ones Cassian had told her about in that intimate, vulnerable moment- had entered the hall and a hush formed as everyone scrambled into neat military rows, coming to attention as the elegant woman approached the dias.

She began to give a speech, but Jyn couldn’t focus on it. Cassian had started fidgeting again, shifting his weight and drumming his fingers against his leg. It seemed so entirely unlike him, and yet Jyn could sympathize. She had always tried to maintain an unreadable exterior, too, or rather, she had always tried not to feel things because everything she felt was too painful. She imagined it was similar with Cassian. And she imagined he was likewise nervous now, because being the center of attention felt wrong in every way, and just such a situation was imminent.

Jyn hated the idea of Cassian’s vulnerability being exposed to the world, that he would be required to limp the ridiculous distance up to the dias at the front of the room, in front of everyone, probably with her assistance, if he’d accept it. The man did not deserve anyone’s pity. They should only respect him for everything he’d done for the rebellion, for everything he’d sacrificed. And from what Jyn could tell, he didn’t even want that, it was so ingrained in him to work in the shadows.

She grabbed his hand again, but it was honestly more to calm herself than him. This time, though, his fingers encircled hers and did not pull away. His attention remained on Mon Mothma as she finished up her speech and introduced the princess.

Dank farrik.

Princess Leia was young and pretty, likewise clothed in regal white, but in a dress that hugged her perfect curves and accented the elegant line of her neck. Her brown hair and dark eyes offset her perfect porcelain skin. More enticing, the princess had the bearing of someone like Mon Mothma, but there was something more lively in her, adventurous and passionate maybe. Jyn would’ve felt justified in her previous unwarranted flash of jealousy when Cassian had described Leia Organa as if he knew the young woman, if Jyn didn’t find the princess extremely attractive herself. Force, if it didn’t feel like Cassian had been imprinted on her very soul, and if Jyn’s libido hadn’t already decided it wanted him and no one else would suffice… But a princess would’ve been way out of her league, anyway.

Cassian’s fingers squeezed her hand, and he leaned in, a whisper tickling her ear.

“You’re staring.”

“I’m just paying attention,” she whispered back.

A very quiet chuckle escaped him.

“Sure,” he said and she glared at him but continued to hold his hand, an anchor against the tide of nerves roiling in her stomach. “Why were you surprised that I might... kiss men sometimes? You like both men and women, too?”

“I rarely like anyone.” She stroked her thumb over the soft flesh at the base of his thumb. “But when I’m attracted to someone, it doesn’t seem to matter what their gender is.”

If they were pretty, they were pretty. She couldn’t really say why or what criteria made someone attractive to her. Although Leia had some gorgeous brown eyes. And so did Cassian for that matter, although his were a little darker, and as much playful as perceptive as they studied her face. And maybe she had become so soft that she’d gone to actual mush, because she could stare into those eyes forever.

Was that her thing? Is that what did it for her? Was she an ‘eyes’ girl?

Oh. Maybe she was. Because she found herself utterly captivated by Cassian’s beautiful eyes, finding everything she wanted and more in their dark depths... An if she didn’t know better... She could swear that he wanted-

“Captain Andor. Jyn Erso.”

Jyn nearly jumped out of her skin. Alarm likewise flashed across Cassian’s face before it was promptly hidden by a facade of professional pleasantness as he straightened. His hand slipped out of hers but landed at the small of her back to urge her forward out of the ranks.

And then Jyn found herself face to face with Leia Organa. And felt such gratitude that the princess had come to them and not made Cassian come to her, limping on an unsteady, barely begun to heal leg, that Jyn found herself smiling broadly, genuinely, at the kriffing gorgeous young woman.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for the rebellion. I know you’ve lost much.”

Jyn bowed her head, although being as small as she was, the even more petite princess still could’ve managed to drape the medal over her head with no problem.

“We all have lost too much,” Cassian said, after bowing to receive his own medal from the princess.

Leia Organa was good at maintaining her facade but Jyn saw the sadness in the young woman’s eyes. Jyn had cried while Cassian was in deep, medicated sleep, when she heard that Alderaan had been destroyed, feeling like she had failed after all. But what pain that loss was to its princess, Jyn couldn’t quite fathom. She had lost much, her parents, her childhood, but she had never loved an entire planet, full of people who she was a leader to. She had sort of led a unit of soldiers. And they all had died. And that was agony.

Except for Cassian. She still had Cassian. And if Jyn was honest, he was more than an entire world to her. He was a kriffing galaxy. She slid her arm around his waist because his hand on her back was not providing enough contact when Jyn felt like she might fall to pieces at any moment.

“I’m truly glad you both survived Scarif,” Princess Leia said, as if the loss of just two more lives would’ve crushed her, that the knowledge that some had survived, that some could and would survive this fight, was what kept her going. “Your bravery has saved us all.”

“Thank you,” Jyn said, unable to think of anything else to say.

The princess inclined her head, a bittersweet smile on her face, before she turned and began walking back to the dias. When Jyn returned her attention to Cassian, he was looking at her again with that expression in his eyes.

“We should probably get back in line,” she whispered, but was unable to break away from his captivating gaze.

“When have you ever been one to stay in line, Jyn Erso?” There was the small flash of his tongue wetting his bottom lip and Jyn nearly forgot how to breathe. No longer fixated by his eyes but his mouth. Was he-

His hand at the small of her back urged her closer, his other hand cupping her face and-

Oh.

Cassian Andor’s kiss was… Perfection. It was everything a first kiss, any kiss should be, excited and eager at the start, making it perhaps a little too rough when his mouth crashed against hers, but then suddenly softer, gentle, a tentative question, which she returned, sliding her lips against his, parting them in invitation, which he accepted, deepening the kiss. He tilted his head, angling his mouth against hers, sucking at her top lip then her bottom, submitting to her own explorative press and slide of her lips, the small nips she made with the edge of her teeth. His tongue darted over her lips, swiping into her mouth just the smallest fraction, just enough to tease and tantalize and make her release a groan of pure carnal want.

The room, the world, had faded away entirely but suddenly came crashing back hard. People were hooting and clapping, whistling and chuckling and shouting lewd, encouraging comments. Cassian broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against hers for a moment.

He had just kissed her. In front of everyone. They might as well have been standing on that dias, in front of the princess, making out for the entire Alliance to see.

“You kissed me,” she said, still incredulous.

“Yes,” Cassian met her gaze with his dark brown eyes, which seemed to be honest-to-goodness twinkling, for Force’s sake. “And you kissed me back.”

“But, you kissed me. In public. In front of everyone.”

“Yes.” Cassian was a good liar, pretending that it wasn’t a big deal for him to so openly display an emotion such as affection. He shrugged. “It was a bit territorial of me. Sorry.”

Jyn hadn’t even thought of that. She was so busy fighting her possessive feelings for Cassian, it hadn’t occurred to her he might be feeling possessive of her.

“Don’t apologize.” Don’t take it back. Please.

He smiled at her. And parts of her that she hadn’t previously known existed before meeting him, responded, filling her with warmth, as seemed inevitable whenever she was in the glow of that smile of his.

“Let’s get out of here while we can,” he leaned in to whisper, a little closer than necessary so that his mouth was just a couple of teasing inches away from hers.

“Yeah,” Jyn whispered back. “Your leg must be bothering you. I think we need to get you back to bed.”

His mouth twitched and he raised his eyebrows at her. Like he was in any condition to follow through on the innuendo that she actually hadn’t intended.

“Do you know of… er… a back way out of here?” Jyn asked as they ducked back into line. Things seemed to be picking up for the next part of the ceremony. And she’d honestly had enough pomp and circumstance for the day.

“Of course. I’m a spy,” Cassian said, giving Jyn a wink as he took her hand and somehow began to sidle through the ranks of rebel soldiers, weaving seamlessly between them and towing Jyn along, none the worse for wear for his injured leg.

They managed to reach the wall, slide along it and duck into a shadowy corner that was the entrance to a hidden narrow hallway just as all the troops came to attention and did an about face. Apparently the heroes of the Battle of Yavin were making their grand entrance. Jyn would’ve been curious about them if she wasn’t being towed along by the most compelling person she’d ever met, the most frustrating, uptight, passionate, tortured, beautiful man in the galaxy.

Halfway back to his quarters, his limp was worsening, so Jyn pulled her hand out of his and slipped her arm around his waist. It was difficult to say whether he maybe just wasn’t as much a stubbornly independent sort as she thought, or whether he trusted her like no other. But either way, he accepted her help and being snuggled up against him felt like where she belonged.

When they reached his quarters, Cassian collapsed onto his bed with a sigh. It had been a long day, even for her, and she was only recovering from comparatively minor injuries. So she was actually a little surprised when he didn’t immediately pass out. Instead, he gave her that look again.

“Come here.” Sitting up, he reached for her. And Jyn came, more than willingly, practically jumping into his lap, only hesitating when part of her shouted to be careful not to hurt him.

He smiled. Oh, that smile.

“It’s okay.” His hands found her waist. And oh, they fit her curves like they were made to hold her.

“But your injuries. I don’t want-”

“Straddle me.” He tugged gently at her waist. Heat blazed through her, and a wanting she’d never experienced the likes of before. “You can keep your weight off me that way, if you want.”

“Oh, right.” She put a knee on the bed on either side of his thighs, settled onto his lap without -he was right- placing her full weight on him. Cassian made a pleased noise, his hands never leaving her waist, but beginning to stroke up and down her sides, beneath her vest but separated from her bare skin by the fabric of her shirt, which she was honestly a bit thankful for. Her senses, her kriffing emotions, were already overwhelmed, especially when she looked down to find his face tilted up towards hers, his pretty dark eyes fixed on her, showing her everything he kept locked up so deep inside.

His eyes were all soft and imploring, filled with a desperate need to give and receive affection, to be understood and loved, to connect with another person on a soul deep level, emotionally… physically. It made her heart race and her skin prickle with gooseflesh. She had the same longing she had never been able to define before.

Jyn took his face in her hands, leaned down and kissed him. It was as good as the first time. Maybe even better. No less eager for one another, the ambrace was enthusiastic and a bit sloppy. But it slowed to that intense teasing exploration of one another, this time deepened by their tongues eager to taste one another, stroke and caress. The kiss was seeking and answering. It was… It was...

Kissing Cassian was a revelation. Not just confirmation that her attraction to him was reciprocated, but a soul-baring epiphany.

Most of her life, all of her adult life, Jyn had had nothing beyond surviving, no reason for living besides that death was the alternative. Cassian had tried to give her one, give her the Cause, his cause, the Rebellion. And for a while, she’d adopted it. She would still make it hers. But she was too cynical for it to be her reason for living. And if she was truly honest with herself, it was only her Cause because it was his.

Cassian Andor had given her something to live for, something to fight for, but it wasn’t what either of them pretended it was.

He was her reason. He was her Cause.

The kiss broke, and Jyn rested her forehead against his, the need to be close persisting despite the biological requirement that they break for want of air. His hands released her waist to cradle her face.

“Cassian…” She could barely recognize her own breathy whisper, could not find any words.

His thumbs stroke her cheeks and he sighed, his voice low and husky when he spoke.

“Me, too, Jyn. Me, too.”

END

[dreamypeaches]

don’t wake up pt. 7 (END) | rafe cameron x reader

summary: rafe gives you the fairy tale night he promised

warnings: SMUT (unprotected), cursing, alcohol use

word count: 4k

a/n: so...here it is. the final part. i can’t believe i actually finished a series. thank you for all the support, it means so much to me!! i am really proud of this whole series and seeing y’all validate me makes me cry. please enjoy :) and thank you.

series masterlist

Walking into Midsummers was one of the most nerve-racking things you had ever done. The few times you’d come before, you were working. Never had you excepted to walk in as a guest, never mind on the arm of Rafe Cameron. But now you were here, and you in a state of pure bliss. Most eyes were on you, but you hardly even noticed as you giggled like a school girl. Rafe’s hand was in yours, fingers interlaced as he pulled you through the party, glancing at you every few moment with a dopey smile.

His arm wraps around your shoulder as he takes a flute of champagne. He hands it to you before grabbing one for himself.

“I believe this was the first part of my master plan,” He says, tipping his glass towards you. You clink yours against it with a smile before you both down it in one go.

“Expensive champagne, check,” you giggle, the sparkling liquid already making you feel just as bubbly. Rafe’s hand found it’s place on your hip, holding you close as you surveyed the party. Another waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and you each grabbed one, taking your time to savor it.

Rafe was still in a state of disbelief. Just a couple of hours ago he had been ready to drink himself into a coma. Now he had you at his side, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt, and he felt on top of the world. Squeezing you against his side, he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You look so beautiful tonight.”

Your cheeks heat up as you turn to meet his eyes. You’re able to give him the briefest of kisses before you are interrupted.

“This is so weird.”

The smiles drop from your faces as your faced with John B, Kie, and Sarah. Trying to separate from Rafe, his arm tightens around your waist as he give his sister and her friends a tight smile.

“And?” He says, his tone vaguely threatening. He wasn’t going to let anything ruin this night.

“Don’t look at me like that, Rafe, you should be thanking me,” Sarah says with a smirk. “I created this,” she motions to you, “and she is perfect. Don’t ruin it!”

Rafe looks down at you, a small smile returning to his face.

“I won’t.”

“Seriously, dude, JJ already wants to kick your ass. Don’t give him a reason,” Kie chimes in. Rafe scoffs and shakes his head.

“I don’t plan on it! Now fuck off, I’m trying to show my girl a good time.”

John B and Kie pretend to gag as they walk off before shooting you a genuine smile. You sighed when they were out of ear shot, feeling as if a great weight was suddenly off your chest.

Bouncing in front of Rafe, you give him a wide smile as you move your body in a victory dance.

“That went so well!”

You twist and shimmy, reaching your hands out towards him, urging him to join you. How could he resist your charm? Especially when your dancing is the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. He takes your hands and pulls your forward, making you wrap your arms around his neck while he wraps his own around your waist.

“Did you not hear the part where they threatened to sick your guard dog on me?” Rafe scoffed.

“Yes, and I agree with them. You break my heart again I will send him after you. Pope too. He may not seem scary, but he’s got some fire in there.”

Rafe’s smile falter slightly when you mention him breaking your heart. Though he quickly covers it up, you notice the crack in his armor. Pulling him in for a kiss, you try to soothe his mind by swiping your thumb across his temple. You wished you could just reach in and pull every bad thought from his brain and throw them in the ocean. He had hurt you, this is true, but you would never in your life wish an ounce of pain onto him. The wounds on each of your hearts were still healing, and it would take time. But tonight, you just wanted to be happy. You wanted both of you to be happy.

“Will you dance with me?” You whisper against his lips.

“Already promised I would,” He replies, pulling away to lead you to the dance floor. He moves you closer to the edge of the group of dancers. Close to the beach, the pair of you are covered in slight shadow, slightly secluded from the party passing around you.

You never thought you could miss another persons touch this much. The past few days without Rafe, you had found yourself craving the feeling of him against you. From the way he was acting tonight, you were certain he felt the same. His hand had yet to leave your body since you met him outside. His hand was always holding your own, gripping your hip as he wraps his arm around you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you. Right now, his hands found a home on your lower back, holding you close as you sway to the music. You dance through a few songs, basking in each other’s love, before Rafe speaks.

“You are so…exquisite,” He says. The look in his eyes contains so much love you almost drown in it.

“Are we playing scrabble? That was easily a 20 point word, got an ‘x’ and a ‘q’ in there.”

“How about a few more words? You are…” He places a kiss on your cheek, “alluring.”

A kiss on the other cheek. “Stunning.”

On your jaw. “Ravishing.”

Your neck. “Heavenly.”

Your collarbone. “And drop dead sexy.”

His lips return to yours. This kiss is more passionate and needy than any of the others earlier that night. The shock and excitement of being back together again has worn off, and now there is just a deep need and urgency to be as close as possible. He starts to trail kisses across your jaw and down your neck, when you are once again interrupted. Someone clears their throat behind Rafe.

Rafe is suddenly ramrod straight, back stiff as he recognizes the disappointed aura radiating from his father. You took his hand as he turned, squeezing it to let him know you are there.

“So, this is her? The mysterious girl? Were you planning on introducing me at any point?” Ward Cameron questions, arms crossed at his chest. Rafe clears his throat, grip tightening on your hand.

“Um, dad, this is Y/N. My girlfriend.”

“Right, one of Sarah’s Pogue friends. We’ve met before, I believe?”

“Yes, sir. It’s nice to see you again,” You say, plastering on a smile. After everything Rafe told you about the man, you wanted nothing more than to give him a piece of your mind, maybe even knock his stupid teeth out. But you restrained yourself, not wanting to ruin the night.

“Well, don’t let me interrupt your night. Just try to be more modest, Rafe, please?” He starts to turn away, but pauses to say, “Congratulations. You seem very happy.”

The stiffness rushes out of Rafe, his hand nearly goes limp in your own.

“I think that’s the nicest things he’s ever said to me.”

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you tug on his arm.

“Then let’s celebrate! More champagne!”

You find another waiter and grab two glasses, the two of you downing them in only a few sips.

The night passed like a dream. You and Rafe became lost in each other, in the pure bliss and love that you radiated. You danced and laughed and drank and ate and held onto each other for dear life. The bubble you had started your relationship in was gone, allowing anyone to gaze in on you. You were quick to realize your worries weren’t valid. Sure, people were looking at you, but you could handle a few strange looks and whispered comments if it meant you got to be with Rafe like this all the time.

You ran into the Pogues a few times during the night, including JJ and Pope, who were both working for Heyward. The tension between the two Pogues and Rafe had been thick. A lot of threatening glances and passive aggressive comments were shared. The three boys were about two seconds from whipping their dicks out and measuring them before you pulled Rafe away, rolling your eyes at the testosterone in the air.

It was easier with Topper and Kelce. The moment you had seen Kelce, you pulled him into a bone crushing hug, thanking him profusely. Rafe almost had to pry you off Kelce, trying his best to hide his obvious jealousy. Topper, on the other hardly said hello. You didn’t mind, and Kelce made up for it by practically saving your relationship.

Once Rafe finally forced you to say good bye to his best friends, you complained to him about the inherent misogyny you had experienced that night. A speech spurred on by the liquid stars moving inside you.

“The fact that I could hug your best friend and you and my best friends want to rip each other’s throats out is ridiculous. And do you know who’s fault it is? You fucking men. Getting all protective and territorial over me. Why don’t you go pee in a bush or something and let me handle myself.”

Rafe chuckled at you.

“You’re right, angel, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah you better be,” You replied with a tipsy smirk. Rafe laughed louder at you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging your back against his chest. He peppered kisses down your neck, the softest touches that tickled and made you giggle.

Midsummers was starting to wind down. The older guests and people with children at home  were the first to leave, and everyone else began to trickle out after. The party was coming to a close. Staff were starting to clean up around the more drunken patrons. The dance floor, to the center of which Rafe pulled you, was practically empty. He made you stand in the middle, giving you a kiss and running over to the stage where a band had stood only an hour before. Now there was just a speaker playing a playlist someone hit shuffle on.

You watched Rafe fiddle with something, when the opening beats of Dreams by Fleetwood Mac floated from the speakers. He jogged back over to you, a grin on his face as he takes your hand. Pulling you close, he keeps his one hand clasped in yours while the other rests on your hip. Your hand rests on his shoulder, slowly moving to play with the hairs at the base of his neck. He begins to sway you in slow circles, your head resting against his shoulder. You hum along to the music for a few bars before sighing.

“This is a sad song, you know.”

“I mean, the words might be sad, but it doesn’t make me sad at all. Because all I can think about when I hear this song is you.” You grin into his chest.

You’re silent for the rest of the song. Despite the long night and the exhaustion in your bones, neither of you wants this night to end. Your minds are wide awake, taking in every second.

You and Rafe continue swaying as the music fades out. He leans down to place a kiss below your ear before whispering.

“Did you happen to receive my other gift?”

You smirk up at him, your eyes suddenly clouded with lust.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Eyes darkening, Rafe licks his lips and pulls you away from the nearly empty party, down towards the beach. You’re forced to pull your shoes off as Rafe leads you down the sand. Eventually, you reach a patch of trees that create a small, secluded area on the beach. There is a few chairs and towels hanging around, a box off to the side, signs of life littered across the small stretch. Rafe brings towards the back. He grabs a large blanket from the box and spreads it out before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He begins to place open mouth kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin in some places making you gasp.

“What is this place?” You question.

“A Kook hangout we made a few years ago. Don’t worry, no one comes here this late,” He reassures you before continuing his assault on your neck. One hand tangles itself in your hair, pulling it to give himself better access to you. The other hand slides down your side, grabbing at the skirt of your dress and bunching it up, revealing your bare thigh to the open air. You gasp at the contrast of the cool hair and his warm hand as it trails up to the waistband of your lacy underwear. His finger ghosts across your slit over the fabric, making you whimper. He suddenly pulls away from you and shoves you gently forward.

You turn to face him and feel your core ache at the look he’s giving you. A cocky smirk graces his lips while his eyes are burning with hunger and lust.

“Strip,” He commands. You do as he says, never breaking eye contact as you tug at the dress, letting it pool at your feet.

Rafe let’s out a fuck under his breath as he takes you in. Clad in the lingerie he had bought for you, this image was one he had been dreaming of since he purchased the fabric. It’s white, just like your dress, adding to the already heavenly glow the moonlight casts on you.You go to remove the crown of white daisies on your head but he stops you.

“Don’t. You look beautiful in it.”

Your cheeks heat up as you slowly lower your hands down to your sides. You feel yourself melting under his gaze.  He licks his lips before he dives in, holding your face between his hands as he crashes his mouth to yours. The kiss is hungry, and you prepare yourself to be absolutely devoured by the man in front of you. Not that you minded.

Fingers dance down your sides and into he waistband of your underwear. The teasing touch of before is gone as he presses against your clit, making you scream in shock and pleasure. He holds the pressure, starting to move his fingers in slow circles. Your eyes roll back, so much pleasure hitting all at once like a tidal wave. Rafe’s other and holds the back of you neck, pulling you away from the bruising kiss.

“I’m going to make you cum some many times tonight, you won’t be able to walk for a week. Are you ready, angel?”

You give a weak nod and a whimper, only to whine when he moves all touch. His hands move instead to grip your ass, giving one cheek an agonizing slap.

“I need words.” He gives another slap to end his statement.

“Yes, Rafe. I’m ready. I want you.”

A primal grin spreads across his face. He pushes your shoulder, nodding toward the blanket.

“Lay down for me.”

You lay on your back across the blanket, allowing you to look up at the moon and stars, but your focus is not on that ethereal sight. Instead, you are focused on the sinful man in front of you, who removes his bow tie and jacket. In no time he is undressed down to his boxers and kneels down between your legs.

He leans forward to capture your lips for a moment, before moving down your body. He makes sure to leave hickies across your collarbone and chest, peppering a few on your stomach as well. He snaps at the elastic band with his teeth before for pulling the underwear down with his fingers.

“You look so fucking beautiful in these, I want to see you in them again. We can’t go ruining them on the first night.”

As he speaks, his breath fans across the expanse of your stomach, but it is his words that make you shiver. He pulls the garment down your legs slowly, allowing the anticipation to build until you are squirming for his touch. He removes your bra next, your nipples hard in the cool ocean air. His finger ghost across them, sending waves of pleasure down to your pussy.  

“Please, Rafe. I’ve missed you so much, missed your touch so much. Don’t keep me waiting,” You moan, but there is no threat in your words. You both know exactly who is in charge here.

“Did you think about me, angel? Did you touch yourself and wish it were my fingers making you cum?”

You bite you lip and nod as you make eye contact with Rafe. He smirks and one of his fingers tease your entrance, gathering wetness before plunging in. Moans drip from your lips as he sets a steady pace, fingers curling up to touch your g-spot. He adds a second, then a third. He kisses you neck as he speeds up, other hand moving to rub your clit. You are a moaning mess, clenching around his fingers as you get closer and closer to your climax.

“Is this what you wanted? You want to cum all over my fingers?”

“Yes! Yes, please, I want to cum. Can I cum?”

He groans at your pleading tone, fingers starting to pound into you.

“Cum, angel.”

You do so with a scream, back arching off the ground as he slows his movements only slightly. He replaces the hand on your clit with his mouth, giving the bundle of nerves a few kitten licks before pressing down on it with the flat of his tongue.

“Fuck!” you scream, still sensitive from your orgasm only seconds before. His fingers pick up the pace again, his tongue continuing to attack your clit. Your second orgasm comes quickly, and he removes his fingers, not allowing you time to adjust to the emptiness before he starts to fuck you with his tongue. An arm lays across your torso, holding you down as you buck into his mouth. His other hand moves to you clit, giving a much gentler touch than before. A few minutes later, Rafe is lapping up the juices of your third orgasm.

He sits up and grins at you, lips shining with your wetness. Your eyes are hooded, exhausted from the pleasure coursing through your veins. He kisses you, quick to deepen the kiss by plunging his tongue into you, allowing you to taste your self.

He pulls away to remove his boxers, lining himself up with your entrance when he returns. You hiss as the tip brushes across your clit as he gathers your wetness. He thrusts into you slowly with a low moan, savoring every inch of your pussy around his dick. You meet his eyes as he bottoms out, stilling inside of you for a moment. His face suddenly softens and he gives you a tender kiss.

“I love you,” He said

“I love you too,” You replied. The words leave your mouth wrapped around the promises of tomorrow, of spending another day on Earth with you. He kisses you again as he pulls almost all the way out, slamming back into you fully. You scream against his lips as he sets a brutal pace. He hikes one of you knees higher on his hip, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing lightly as he fucks you into the sand.

Rafe never found you more beautiful than now. Your halo askew on top of your disheveled hair. Your tits bounce as he pounds into you, moving in rhythm with his hips. Moans and curses fall from your sweet lips and Rafe groans at the sight of your wide open mouth and closed eyes. An angel screaming for god as she faces the heavens. He squeezes your throat a little tighter.

“Say my fucking name, angel.”

“Fuck! Rafe! Rafe…please, Rafe!”

The new mantra spills from your mouth, sweet like honey. He catches it with his own lips, thrusting harder. You feel the sting of his hips snapping against yours and you love it.

You feel your legs start to shake as you approach your fourth orgasm, and Rafe can feel it to. He moves his hand to rub your clit but the pressure he gives it sends you over the edge. You scream his name, becoming a whimpering mess as he continues to fuck you.

“It’s too much…” You whimper but he quiets you with a kiss.

“One more. You’ve got one more for me, angel.”

He hooks one of your ankles on his shoulder and you moan as he hits you deeper than ever before. He continues to rub gentle shapes into you clit. As you get closer to the edge, you feel Rafe’s thrusts get sloppier. You clench around him as you cum, the feeling sending Rafe over right behind you.

He gives you a few more pumps before pulling out completely and collapsing next to you. You feel absolutely spent, breath heavy from the multiple orgasms of the night. You’re ready to curl into Rafe and pass out, but his finger linger down your body to your center.

“I can’t…” You manage to get out, but it fades into a moan as Rafe massages your clit slowly. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, biting it lightly before sucking on it and pulling away with a pop.

“Just one more. Please, angel. You’re doing so good for me.”

You moan as he goes back to your breasts, sucking at biting at them as he continues to rub your clit slowly. Your sixth orgasm builds slowly, almost taking you by surprise. You cum with a quiet moan, legs shaking as Rafe brings you down from your high. He leaves a few more kisses on your collar bone before standing up, returning a few seconds later with another blanket. He pulls you close to him, covering the both of you in the blanket. You fall asleep quickly under the stars, body exhausted from the stress, excitement, and pleasure of the day.

Rafe awakens to the sunrise, orange rays scattering across your bodies Your chest rises and falls against his and he makes sure to memorize every part of your body. Yesterday had been blissful. For a moment, you both got to forget about the problems that surrounded your relationship. But it was a new day, and the rest of his time with you would be an uphill battle.

He had shit to work on, shit he would never want you to see. But he wanted you, hell, he needed you by his side through all of it. He trusted you to hold his fragile heart and prayed that you would allow him yours. He refused to shatter it again, especially when it was still mending. He would hold it tenderly and cherish it for the rest of his days.

The days ahead would be rough. There was a lot to talk about. But he thinks of that night beneath the stars over two months ago, when you found him. Neither of you knew it then, but when you sat beside him on the sand and spoke sweet words, you had taken his heart and never given it back. He didn’t mind, he knew you would keep it safe.

As he felt you stir beside him, he closed his eyes and pulled you closer, wanting to spend a little longer away from reality for a little longer. It was time, though. Time to love you wholly. Time to love himself as much as you loved him. Time to get his life together.

“Rafe,” You whisper, “it’s time to wake up.”

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[life-rewritten]

THARNTYPE 7 YEARS: LOVE VS MISREADINGS AND INTERNAL STRIFES

So we are finally in episode 3 of TharnType 7 Years, and if it isn't apparent with my constant ramblings about this show, I am in love, like excited, obsessed, and incredibly happy in love. I know a lot of people are not like me, (it's always this way with this show) but the way the writer has left important character information, subtext and back-shadows in this plot has already made me hooked. The first thing I want to address is the couples in this show because I feel like people think the side couples are a waste of camera time and have no significance or depth, but this is one of the shows this year, where there is actual depth, plot and dynamics for the side couples. None of them is useless in fact; actually, if they don't have a plot, they're symbols/plot devices for the actual story. So stop seeing them as fan service, actually understand their characters, their flaws, their mindsets and see that we might have other couples in this show that are just as precious (with their own love story) as Tharn and Type. Or if you're one of those people who refuse to stop being closeminded about this show, then skip past this post.  But if you do love this show as much as I do, and want to know about what the story is showing; Let's begin.

First thing first is to look at the subtext, the patterns and what we could understand from episode 1-3 so far with TharnType 7 Years. The plot is all about all these couples having internal conflicts, sometimes psychological/ mental, which results in mindsets nurtured from their past experiences that have them become so flawed and stunted from growth. We've seen this same dynamic in season 1 with our couples, including Tharn and Type. 

With Tharn and Type the series, Mame uses love (the presence of it, the introduction to it and the feelings from it) to force our characters to learn from their mistakes, grow and change, and to reach self-acceptance and healing finally. Perhaps it's not always realistic (sometimes therapy is still needed, sometimes they take things too far, and sometimes the message isn't fully explored/translated) but its what I love about this show since season 1. The focus is on love, how incredible it can be for these characters and how it transforms them to their best version of themselves. In season 2 we have that with all these couples, they all have some kind of internal strife that is preventing them from growing,  And it's through love that they change.  Let me first analyse the couples, so you get what I mean; 

Misreading/Miscommunication/Misunderstanding in TharnType in 7 years

'How do past experiences shape your mindset, choices, and personal development and how does it affect your relationship with the love of your life.'

TharnType

Misreading because of internal scars

In previous season Tharn and Type has a fun time, getting together, this is me being sarcastic. In reality, these two struggled so much to cross that line, one because of Type's internal struggle with his past  assault making him ridiculously homophobic, and two because of everyone connected to Tharn's own history that contributed to his own internal scars at the end. Luckily our couple survived it all and actually chose to love each other properly. Except these scars aren't fully healed/gone, they still have affected our couple's ideologies, mindsets and actions, especially when it's time again to cross another line: Marriage. Tharn and Type are entering another conflict in their relationship despite their love for each other because of their internal scars. They're both for each other, 100% and they both concede and need each other, but their struggles make them incompatible despite the fact that they're actually trying to be selfless and caring for the other. Because of his past scars affecting how he sees publicity in relationships, Type doesn't want them to be exposed to the world or get married, because of his own internal strife of being abandoned Tharn wants them to prove to each other they won't be separated and needs them to get married for a peaceful mental state. 

Separately selfless and caring: Tharn is sacrificial and a pushover but we can see it's building up this episode and tearing him down, in fact, it was so depressing for him because he had to see Tong propose to his long term lover who by the way her speech was necessary because it showed what was on Tharn's mind. She says she's okay with being Tong's number 3 because she has known from the start who he was and she is willing to be selfless for him. In Tharn's mind, this is what Type should be saying, he should know who Tharn is by now and why he wants marriage, but also he should give in and let them get married because there's no problem to him with it. So that's another couple showing their love to everyone whilst Tharn has been in a relationship with Type for longer and is just not getting that. Still, he concedes this episode he pushes it down in front of Type, and secretly still hopes to get married a different time. But this is misreading Type because Type still wouldn't accept that proposal and it will cause a blow-up. 

The ring, the piano (playing their song) and the roses he was holding (passionate love) all symbolise Tharn's strife, he has everything ready, and was the one who played the song, held the flower, and bought the ring but he didn't have Type there. Type was avoiding going because he didn't want to bring back what happened in episode 1, being forced to again talk about marriage, (not selfishly, he's doing it, so they don't fight about it). Still, his absence also represented his misreading of Tharn's feelings.

In episode 3, we do see Type in denial, he is starting to realise that marriage could be a possible thing, and he knows Tharn wants it the most, (its what he wished for, for his anniversary in episode 1 for them to be together forever, marriage is proof of that promise)  he's frightened about hurting Tharn because he can see it is killing him. However, still, he can't get over his blockages and mindset, which is understandable. 

So he needs clues and evidence to start seeing Tharns perspective finally: the girl, Techno, his parents, Fiat.

 But we can see how Type is changing; he takes in Fiat because he wants to help someone like his past self feel understood. He feels inclined to help him not just because of work, but he kind of like takes him in as a young brother and nurtures him because he probably needed someone like that when he was younger. 

Hence this is why Fiat isn't meant to be seen as a devil in this show, but like Type, in season 1 he's meant to be misguided, stupid, irrational, and grow. Fiat takes the role of Type from season 1 (despite in his love story is more like Tharn will explain later), he'll do things and say things automatically. He'll cause issues, but if you notice  Leo (who probably is going to be in Tharns position in season 1 longing for him and being hurt because he's too late but also can be like Type in his own love story) is his calming influence. But Fiat will grow after his mistakes and love (losing Leo) will make him learn and grow from his mindset. Fiat is not just an object/boring second lead that just likes the main character, his involvement with the main story is going to cause growth for our couple but also lead him to his own plot with his own love story that's just as messy, angsty and romantic as Tharn Type in season 1. And you know what I can't wait to see it unfold. 

Fiat and Leo:

 Misreading because of reputation and protection

These two are so annoying, mostly because they're in the same position as TharnType in season 1 where they have perceived obstacles preventing them from the crossing the line even though they're in love.

We're introduced to Leo in episode 3 who definitely has feelings for Fiat. There are so many clues to the fact that he's automatically in love and romantically cares for Fiat. 

1.He clearly longs for his touch: they both keep glancing and looking wishfully at each other's lips each time they come face to face, it's there because they want to kiss each other, they're pulled to each other in that way

2. He drops everything for Fiat's safety, protection and needs. He will do anything; he even is seen this way by Fiat's 'friends' as the person who is the most protective and possessive over Fiat

3. He's jealous about not knowing about Fiat's state, he wants to be needed and trusted by Fiat above all. And he enjoys when Fiat is submissive and gentler to him. 

So why is he so adamant about keeping them as friends?

Fiat's reputation: 

Fiat reminds me of Stud (another messy, spoilt, selfish character who did so because of neglect) from another BL show Friendzone, he's flirty, and he sleeps around whenever Leo isn't around, he's a bit unstable without Leo by his side, rude, makes tantrums like a child who wants attention. When you look at it this way though, he's a child suffering from neglect, although he's rich, so he gets everything he wants he doesn't actually feel adequately loved;

He ran away from home when he was young because of a lack of attentive parents; he did this to get attention, and it's because he felt overlooked and not listened to. We see that he already acts impulsively whenever he feels slighted; this is important for his character.

.He says so sadly in the show to his date in episode 3: This was another exposition to his character's mindset; he feels misunderstood, unloved and not taken care of properly by everyone, including his so-called friends who also just see him as a child, and spoilt. He's felt always never seen. He says this after he realizes that Leo may be possibly happy without him in Italy. He was feeling lonely, irritated and bored with Leo there, but because he cared about Leo's happiness (Leo apparently said the camp was important to him), he didn't want to bother him. If Fiat were so manipulative and selfish and just saw Leo as a tool for emotional baggage he would have texted but no he conceded for Leo's wellbeing. 

His dependency on Leo: When he ran away from home when young it was Leo he went to. It's because Leo has always been his safe space, the only person apart from Type who shows Fiat in this episode that he understands why he's being so upset about the basketball thing, he protects and delivers care to Fiat. 

So why does Fiat feel neglected by Leo: because he's hurting from Leo's rejection/adamant denial that they are nothing. Fiat clearly has feelings for Leo (Stud did for Earth and also felt frustrated that he refused to take him seriously). Still, he's kind of been forced to sacrifice those feelings because he wants to keep Leo by his side. But it still 'breaks' him to do so: whenever he hurts he says stupid things, acts prideful and tries to seem spoilt hence how he spoke to Leo in this episode, but then he concedes. 

I think he's like Tharn when it comes to Leo a little bit, he's like Tharn was in season 1 when he was chasing after Type, but deciding to keep it unofficial whilst it breaks him inside and makes him even more distant that he's being overlooked.  One because like Tharn he wants to keep Leo by his side and do what he wants, so they don't fight, (sacrificial, he shows he cares a lot about Leo he's not selfish). Two because he also feels neglected by Leo for not accepting or taking his feelings seriously (hence being misunderstood).  

For his ego and self-defence mechanism,  he embraces his spoilt persona. You can tell that he only does it whenever he's hurt, scared, or his ego is failing, for example, with the basketball scene; leg hurting and throwing the ball in a fury in episode 3. 

Fiat is not selfish or manipulative; he's just spoilt. He's more like Tharn in season 1 than Type honestly. Tharn is also sometimes selfish, manipulative and stubborn when it came to Type. Tharn is just as rich as Fiat and was used to getting what he wanted. So he also threw tantrums when things didn't go his way, and he guilted Type always into conceding.  Type didn't always fall for it and was more stubborn and headstrong than Tharn.

 Leo is complicated, and if I'm seeing him like either Type or Tharn, these are his reasons for why he is not accepting his feelings.

Like Earth from Friendzone with Stud, he thinks Fiat's love is fickle; he believes he's spoilt, that he doesn't actually want him, he's just saying it as a joke. He thinks he's shameless and a nutcase, and he's just seeking attention. So even if he has feelings, he doesn't want to accept them because of this.

Because he is like Type and has some kind of internalised homophobia, forcing him to not think about Fiats feelings, they are raised in an interesting environment: status, money, reputation. Probably he, himself does not believe he could be gay and have feelings, so he sees everything he does with Fiat as friends, but he's clearly in denial about it, Just like how many times Type was in denial about what Tharn was to him and kept on insisting he didn’t see them as anything more than s*x friends. But Type learnt the hard way of what he wants especially when San entered the picture in season 1.  Type is Leo’s San, he will now force him to learn how he feels and finally accept it. 

Like Type with Tharn this season, it's about the reputation of the family, he's the person who is the closest to Fiat, and they're family friends it'll ruin what they have, the reputation of the family if they're in a phobic environment. It would be stressful to deal with the fallout. He's refused to cross that line to protect Fiat, and him like Type is doing to Tharn this season.

He just doesn't want their friendship to be ruined, so he does long and want Fiat, but he's too scared to be hurt or their relationship to stop. This is the same reason why Fiat sadly concedes, they both are keeping it undefined for each other not really seeing that they both love each other. The more Leo rejects and hurts Fiat and makes Fiat think there's no chance for them; Fiat latches more to Type who is this symbol for all the love that he never received.

 Although Leo doesn't neglect Fiat that way, he does make him feel misunderstood, stuck, and his feelings are being ignored. It's what he says to Leo, "You came too late" essentially you accepted your feelings too late. Jealousy is what will now make Leo embrace himself and push for their relationship (same as Type in season 1) whilst jealousy of Fiat's involvement will drive Tharn and Type to cross the line and get married.

Champ and Khun

 Misreading because of lack of self-esteem

Champ and Khun, my babies. Champ is going to be hurting Khun without realising it. Champ is really bad at love mostly because of lack of self-esteem, he doesn't think he's worth loving for some reason, he also doesn't see any point to love, and he's automatically cut himself of that. The thing with Champ is that Khun is different, he knows this, and I think we're going to see him feel this later on. But I think Champ and Khun are definitely like King and Ram, like King Champ is insecure about what Khun thinks of him and so he will also know how he feels but push it down because he doesn't think he's good enough for Khun.

We know that he's seen as dumb and dim, he mistakenly messed his university year, and he's just starting his business, so he's a little insecure compared to his friends.

We see how he is when it comes to love in season 1, he doesn't understand why people want him, and he doesn't feel anything to others in any way shape or form. 

It's either that or he's just so dumb that he doesn't even register how he feels for Khun as love, there other characters like him; Haruta from Ossans Love and Tonhon from Tonhon Chonlatee. They keep on flirting and doing this automatically to their love interest, but he's not going register why it's different, and this will hurt Khun because Khun won't say it out loud. 

Khun also seems like he struggles with lack of self esteem, insecurity, he's quiet and nervous all the time, he's shy and unsure about how to say to Champ how he feels, and yeh he also struggles to say how he feels. He's tried now to spend time with Champ alone twice, and he's shown annoyance in a polite way to both Type and Techno for being there. He's had feelings for Champ for seven years probably when they stayed in the same dorm, but he's not been able to gather up the courage to say so. So he's also going to be misread by Champ that he also likes keeping it cool and platonic because he doesn't know how just to say it. (Like Ram from my engineer) But I think he will get angsty the more he gets closer and unsure about what they are, and will finally say it out loud. 

Cir and Phu: 

The antithesis/symbol

Cir and Phu represent a couple that gets each other and makes an effort to let the other know how they feel, hence they don't hide or shy away from how they feel, they are blissful, in their own world, and they are the antithesis of these couples. But they also represent what these couples could be if they finally embrace their issues and see each other, Tharn and Type can finally be out and exposed to people, Leo and Fiat can finally be possessive over each other and show romantic ownership. Champ and Khun can finally tell each other how they feel and be in a relationship. 

So yeah, the couples in this show are all, significant, exciting and vital to the plot. They're not wasting camera time, especially Leo and Fiat in episode 3, we needed to understand why Fiat becomes our villain. He's perfect for it; spoilt, stubborn, and refuses to give this fight up because he's tired of being neglected. And Type represents a chance to be seen I guess to him. Tharn and Type and Leo and Fiat are mirror characters, they all learn and grow from falling in love, it doesn't mean they won't be messy, they won't make mistakes, but they're really understandable unlike some other one dimensional characters in this genre. Please give this show a break, and stop focusing on, on the surface information, listen to what the characters are saying, what has been shown and mentioned about them and think about how it affects them. Like Techno, for example, he's going to be a helping hand to these couples, for Tharn and Type he'll help push them to marriage (this is why he sends in the group chat that Tharn is cheating despite the fact he knows he's gay, he's not stupid or problematic he's up to something because he has to help Tharn find a way to make Type concede and want to be possessive of him), he'll also be necessary to Champ and Khun, he's already clued into their relationship dynamic, so he'll let Champ know the truth. He's playing the same role he did in season 1 for Tharn and Type. All these characters are essential, and they all fit the plot and pacing correctly. Stop thinking they're not. Okay, I'm done with my rant; let's see what happens next in episode 4, Ciao. 

[echotrinityme]

You will be loved Chapter 16: A Confrontation

Henry was put on suicide watch and was still in the hospital, Galeforce, Charles, Ellie, Rupert, Dave, Victoria, and Henry's parents were coming up with a plan to help Henry get away from Dominic.

The General offered Terrence Suave and Randy Radman to stay on the base while Henry is in the hospital recovering, Victoria was instructed to find Dominic's whereabouts and to make sure he doesn't go nowhere near him.

Rupert and Dave informed everyone on base about Henry's situation, the reactions of the base were of course furious and they now wanted to help Henry.

Konrad and Calvin volunteered to help Victoria with her search for Dominic, Charles and Ellie won't leave Henry's side.

They have been visiting every day and talking with him, mostly about his relationship Dominic and how he met him.

Henry finally told them he almost got raped by a gang and that's when Dominic saved him, he was so nice back then.

"I didn't know you were talking with your dads, Henry." murmured Charles.

Henry was explaining how he met Dominic and Charles felt super guilty about that night, if it weren't for him listening to Calvin, Henry wouldn't have run away and Dominic wouldn't be abusing him.

"It's ok, I made mistakes too but at least now I'm getting help from you guys and everyone else." assured Henry.

"Yeah but I made a stupid mistake of listening to Calvin cause he led me to believe that you were talking to your special person."

"Guys, we need to think about what to do with Dominic?" added Ellie, who was sensing tension between them.

"Yeah." agreed Charles, he sighed and he rubbed his temple in irritation.

"But Henry, how come you didn't tell me or the General?" asked Charles, with sadness in his tone.

"Dominic threaten to kill me." said Henry, bowing his head down.

Charles and Ellie now have more reasons to help Henry, Dominic is dangerous now and they need to find him as soon as possible.

The door open and the others turned to see Rupert and Dave entered the room, they come by to see how Henry was doing.

"Hey Rupert, Hi Dave." said Charles, he waved at them and Ellie waved at them too.

"Hey, guys."said Rupert, he was exhausted and so was Dave.

"You look exhausted."

"Yeah, it's taking forever to find Dominic. It's just like he went AWOL and there's seem no trace of him." said Rupert, Dave nodded and he sat down on a chair.

"That doesn't mean he will come back to get Henry." said Charles, with an angry expression on his face.

"I'm a former police officer, Charles." said Rupert with an authoritative tone.

"I helped former victims escape their abusive partners and made sure they are safe. " he continued.

"I also did the some cases too." added Dave.

"However, not as much as Rupert."

They all heard a sniffle and they turned to see Henry sobbing quietly, Charles and Ellie immediately rushed to his side. Dave also went to his side but Rupert stayed at his spot.

"Hey Hen, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" questioned Charles who was hugging him gently, keeping mind of Henry's bandages.

"I don't deserved this." signed Henry while his tears were streaming down his face.

"No don't say that." said Ellie, she was rubbing his back softly.

"Henry, you are in trouble and need our help." said Charles.

Dave wanted to say something but he stopped himself because of poor word choice, Rupert on the other hand went up to Henry and he stared at him with determination.

"Henry, I know you have done some things like crime and theft in the past but you don't deserve to be in an abusive relationship." assured Rupert.

Henry was looking at him, his eyes red and glossy. He bowed his head and rubbed his temple.

"We will find Dominic and keep you safe."

Henry felt a little better after the motivation speech Rupert gave to him, he smiled for a bit.

Ellie had to leave to help Victoria so she left and said her goodbyes, Rupert and Dave had to go too and also said their goodbyes.

Charles and Henry are now all alone, they both stared at each then quickly turned their heads in embarrassment.

"Hey Hen...there's something I need to tell you." murmured Charles, he faced Henry who was trembling a little.

"What is it?" said Henry. He spoke for this question, he stared down at his bandages in morbid fascination.

Self-mutilation to some people is an escape, an addiction, a need to feel alive, and to make themselves feel pain. Henry never understood why people hurt themselves but now he knows.

Some people drink, some people smoke, he was never a drinker and a smoker. He chose the other option...cutting, that almost cost him his life if it weren't for Rupert and Dave.

"When we first met at the helicopter I piloted when you got kidnapped by the Government, I thought you were gonna betray us..."

Henry listened and Charles continued "But you didn't...instead you got us the evidence to take down the Tophat Clan."

"I was shocked that you wanted to join us after you got pardoned." explained Charles.

"We spent so much time together, to the point that I was developing a feeling...a warm feeling."

Henry continued listening to what Charles is saying to him, he was deep in thought. He wondered if he should confess his feelings to him before something bad happens to him.

"You see...I have feelings for you." whispered Charles.

Henry's mind went blank for a moment, did he hear that right? Did  Charles confessed to him he has feelings for him? Henry blinked and shook his head.

"Henry?" asked Charles, tentatively.

"What did you say?" questioned Henry, slowly.

" I said, I have feelings for you." repeated Charles.

That's what he said alright, he was not hearing things. He waited so long to hear those words coming from Charles' mouth, however he thought he was too late because certain things that he can't control.

"How long?"

"Since you joined us, Hen."

"I see."

There was a heavy silence after the exchange, Charles bit his lip and waiting for Henry to say something, Henry was looking at him with a small smile on his face.

"I have feelings for you too." said Henry, his face flushed.

Charles stared at him for a moment, he had heard the one thing he's been wanting to hear from him. He was ecstatic! Despite Henry being in a relationship, he stilled had feelings for Charles.

Without warning, Charles leaned into Henry's lips and kissed him. Henry blinked but kissed back, it was a passionate kiss. Henry held Charles'face with his right hand while his left was still holding Charles' left hand.

They stopped to breathe for a moment, their faces were red but they both needed that. Charles wanted Henry but got manipulated by Calvin and it cost Henry to get into a abusive relationship with Dominic.

Charles leaned his forehead onto Henry's and they both smiled for the first time in ages, no matter what happens, Charles will protect him.

"Ahem." said a voice out of nowhere, they both jumped and turned to see The General, Terrance Suave, and Randy Radman standing in front of them.

Henry's Dads stared at Charles like they wanted him to get away from him while Galeforce shook his head in amusement, Charles felt intimidated by the two men who were glaring at him.

If looks can kill, he will be already 6 feet under. Henry on the other hand was snickering quietly and his expression was interesting to say the least, he quickly signed them that Charles was not a threat.

"You must be Charles." said Terrance, he had his arms crossed and leaned towards him with an angry expression on his face.

"Yeah, who are you exactly?" questioned Charles.

"The name's Terrance Suave and this is my husband Randy Radman."

He introduced himself and pointed to the colorful man who was waving at them, who watching his husband trying to be intimidated towards Charles.

"We are Henry's dads." added Randy.

"Oh! Henry told me about you guys...you look familiar and I don't know why."

Charles sheepishly said that and he rubbed his head awkwardly, he turned to Galeforce for help who expression's didn't change.

"Why am I like this? thought Charles.

"Yeah and where the fuck is this Dominic guy?" interrogated Terrance.

"We don't know but we promise we will find him, Mr. Suave." said Galeforce, his expression finally changing into seriousness.

"Good, I don't want that son of a bitch near my son." growled Terrance, his husband noticed he was getting angry and went to calm him down.

Charles was still holding Henry's left head and Randy noticed this and motioned Terrance to witness the intimate act between them.

Randy smirked at him and Terrance decided to pull aside to talk to him, leaving Randy alone with Henry and Galeforce.

"Uh sir? Why did you pull me out of the hall? asked Charles, he was nervous about this.

"To talk." replied Terrance, his tone emotionalness.

"About?"

"Your feelings for Henry." stated Terrance bluntly.

Charles was caught off guard by that statement, he never expected Terrance to figure it out his feelings for Henry. Was he that an open book?

"What about my feelings for Henry?"

"You love him...don't you?"

"Yes, I realized that I love him from very beginning." said Charles, in his sincerest voice.

"Then how come you're not with him? How come he's with that...animal?" questioned Terrance, his voice low and cold.

Charles recoiled in fear and took a step back from Terrance, Terrance has a point. Why wasn't he with Henry? And why is he with an abusive asshole? He can't answer both questions.

They were both manipulated and it hurt like hell. Charles look down at his hands and his vision blurred with tears, Terrance saw that Charles was beginning to cry and he put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Look kid, I don't know what you have been through lately but I know you love him and wouldn't hurt him."

Charles stared up at him, his tears streaking down his face and Terrance felt bad for him.

"However, the only way for both of you to be happy is to win him over." continued Terrance.

"You'll have to protect him from Dominic and if you see him...shoot the bastard." finished Terrance, firmly.

Charles stopped crying and stared at him in shock, he wiped his tears to give him a determined look on his face. He nodded at him in agreement and Terrance smiled at him.

"Oh and one more thing." said Terrance to Charles before they headed inside.

"What?" asked Charles, curiously.

"If you fail to protect Henry, I will fucking kill you." threaten Terrance, he walk back inside without another glance at Charles.

Charles on the hand, was scared out of his mind. He has to work harder now, he doesn't want to let Henry and his dads down. He sighed, hoping if there's a light at the end of the dark tunnel they all in.

It's been a couple of days and Henry was allowed to go home but he needed to see a therapist, he was ok with it as long it will help him get better.

Henry was not allowed near his apartment and he temporarily moved in with Charles to make sure Dominic doesn't find him, Charles took extra measures on taking care of Henry.

He put all sharp objects hidden away and did most of the housework, Henry was a bit annoyed cause he felt helpless but Charles assured him he's not.

Charles was cleaning up some stuff when he looked at the clock, it was 4:30. Henry should be back from therapy now, he waited and waited.

When it was 5:30, he was worried about Henry. He went to the General's office to inform him he's going to look for Henry, Galeforce nodded him and to remind him to be careful.

Charles searched for places where Henry could be, which is not alot since he's been kept on a tight leash. He decided to search Henry's apartment and he found that Henry's door was opened.

He peeked in and looked around and heart stopped on what he saw, Dominic was holding Henry by the neck and he was struggling to get free.

Charles burst in with a gun in his hand mako the other two jumped by suprise, they saw Charles and Dom while still holding Henry pulled out his own gun and aimed at Charles.

They both stared at each in anger and Henry started to sob quietly making Charles' heart broke.

"Well if it isn't Charles Calvin." sneered Dominic,nastily.

[leerongrong]

College Student!Haechan

part of the NCT DREAM living the Y/N life collection.

lemme introduce you to some new things donghyuck

full name: lee donghyuck

age: 19 [international]

height: 174cm

donghyuck is an adorable prankster who’s known far-and-wide throughout his life

the boy started out as a class clown, making jokes at teachers and other students in kindergarten

it got him into loads of trouble, and he didn’t really have friends because the other kids called him mean and scary when he tries to joke around with them

hyuck didn’t care tho

he loves the attention from both his peers and parents even if it meant getting scolded every night

he didn’t change when he went to elementary school, still going around pulling pranks on other people, so far as to pulling at a girl’s pigtails and being sent into detention

although his persona did change when high school rolled around

he’s no longer donghyuck, the adorkable class clown he’s now donghyuck, a rebel that hates schoolwork, teachers, and gets thrown into detention more often than he should

never does his homework, smack talks at teachers and destroys school property

people started to wonder why he hasn’t been thrown out of school yet

the only reason he’s still passing his grades is because of mark, a senior who talks and acts friendly around hyuck as if he’s just any normal student

at first hyuck thought the guy befriended him because he wanted something from him

maybe his lunch or his money

but hyuck’s blown away when mark tells him that he just wanted them to be friends

mark tells him about seeing him roam around the halls with no one to talk to,, his hands in his pockets and staying out on the outskirts and how he feels a pang in his heart

he knows the feeling of being alone with no one to talk to just because people won’t spend time trying to get to know the person underneath

he felt it himself after he moved to seoul, all the kids rejecting him from their friend circles because he looked and talked differently

and mark felt the need to befriend him

the two start hanging out alot after that

playing online games together, hanging out in arcades together, walking around school together

sometimes hyuck gives mark headaches because the boy doesn’t want to do any of his workload,, even once trying to pay mark to do his homework

and mark’s pleasantly surprised when he finds out that hyuck is nowhere near stupid

the boy could rank number one in his year if he actually put some work in

hyuck tells him it’s because school just isn’t his passion

“i want to be a singer someday. i won’t be stuck doing algebra and i’ll be going on tours and performing instead.”

hyuck’s 20 now and a changed man

he’s gotten himself into a prestigious college for the performing arts, one step closer to making his dream come true

and while he would never admit it, he’s grateful for mark. if it weren’t for him, he’s end up as a dead beat high school dropout

speaking of mark

mark went to a different college for arts, almost a town away from his

and today he’s going to come by from all the nagging hyucks’s been giving him about not meeting each other often

they’re going to meet at a cafe

and hyuck’s waiting for mark who’s 20 minutes late because of traffic

“hyung! if you didn’t want to see me you could have said so.”

“traffic’s a bitch.”

he’s starting to get bored sitting at the corner alone with nothing but his phone to keep him company, mark not even replying to his messages

until something gets his attention

its you

you’re a solo singer that started out as an actress

relatively young and have debuted for a few years now, known for your amazing vocals and catchy songs

and there you are

on the screen of a flat screen tv hanging just above him, singing and dancing in your newly released mv

hyuck’s staring at the screen and he’s listening very carefully to your song

even going onto his phone and searching for your music after the mv finishes and another show starts playing on the tv

he doesn’t even realize mark running in looking like a train wreck

out of breath and very disheveled with a very clear coffee stain on his shirt

and when he does, haechan shoves his phone into mark’s face, the latter squinting at the bright screen

“who’s this?”

“that’s y/n? she’s a solo singer, i told you about her remember?”

“nope.”

hyuck’s a little confused because?? if mark had told him about you there’s no way he would’ve forgotten

boy goes on a streaming spree right after coming home

can’t be reached by anyone for a whole 24/7, burrowing in his room with the air con on full and his phone blasting your mv one after the other

he’s hooked

goes on an impulsive buying spree for your light stick and multiple albums

pretty much spending his life’s money

droning on and on again and again to mark about you

he goes on non stop about how mark should’ve told him about you sooner, said boy rolling his eyes because, “you’re the one who forgot.”

he burst into tears when mark gave him a fan sign ticket as a reward for acing all his classes mark is THAT friend yall

hugging the life out of the older one and covering mark’s face with spit when he kisses him all over we all need a mark in our lives tbh

he still can not believe he’s going to meet you

d-day arrives

hyuck set up 5 alarms last night so he wouldn’t accidentally over sleep and miss meeting you

all his life, he’s never been a fan of working out but here he is, 8 hours before a fan sign doing pull ups and push ups because he wants to look good

he isn’t ashamed to admit that he shaved twice

nor is he ashamed that he’s using a face mask he literally just bought yesterday because they’re supposed to make him look shining, shimmering and splendid

he’s rushing out of his dorm to where the fan sign is held and he literally stops breathing when he sees you in person surrounded by security and scary looking managers

he’s reminding himself to breath because he doesn’t want to pass out in front of you while all his brain is thinking is, ‘how does she even look better in person?’

‘she looks like an angel.’

‘she’s breathtaking.’

hyuck’s convinced he’s in love

and he only watches you and stares at everything you do

he turns red when you turn to him and wave from afar

‘did that just really happen?’

‘did i just get noticed?’

‘am i in heaven?’

when its finally his turn, he turns into stone all of his planned speeches disappearing into thin air

donghyuck.exe.has stopped functioning

he gives you his gift and he knows you see him trembling and you laugh, holding his hand to stop his shaking

‘did i just hear wedding bells ringing?’

‘i’m never going to wash my hands’

he’s having his own internal crisis

you’re there staring at him for a bit, making sure you smile at him and engage in eye contact

while inside you’re a little blown away because you’ve seen your fair shares of handsome men, your own fans being the most handsome in your eyes but you’ve never seen anyone as handsome as donghyuck is and you’re wondering why he hasn’t been snatched by idol companies

both of you smile and talk to each other

and hyuck’s freaking out a little because this is his time is running out and this is the only chance to tell you the words he thought about for 3 days he even forced mark into his mini lyric writing session

“i wanted to thank you for always making me smile.”

and you’re smiling so much wider by now, the sweet words from your fans never failing to take your breath away

“are you kidding me? donghyuck you’re like the sun, so warm and you bright up my day. you’re my full sun.”

the boy practically melted then and there and had to be escorted out by your security team

the next time he meets mark all he can ramble on and on about is your fansign

“mark, she called me her sun..”

“mARK DON’T TOUCH ME I’M THE FREAKING SUN.”

“I’M CHANGING MY NAME TO LEE HAECHAN.”

[jaeyunluvs]

forever together - arón piper

Requested by @fashphotolife: Hiii I wanted to request an Aron Piper imagine where him & the reader have been broken up for a while because he thought it was the right thing to do but somehow they see each other again & she tells him how at the end it’s always gonna be him & one way or another they’re back together

A/N: Thank you for requesting! love the idea I hope you’ll like it! have a nice day <3 Also i changed one thing!!!

warnings: angst, fluff at the end

disclaimer: english is not my first language there might be some errors please let me know if i do! poor spanish also lol :))

It was 5 months since you’ve last seen him. The most painful time you’ve ever gone through in your life. 

The weird thing was everyone was extremely shocked about your guys’ break up because everyone knew you loved each other. 

You met him through your best friend Jane’s fiancée, Leo. What a coincidence that Aron is Leo’s best friend too. Since they love you both and don’t want you guys to stay single they set you guys up on a blind date. You were so hesitant about it.

But that blind date was the best date you could ever go to. 

It was all amazing. You guys dated for 8 months it was going all perfect. You guys even met each other’s parents. 

Until he started acting and spending so much time on set, you working and not being able to spend a lot of time together. Both of you were hurt. After many fights, you guys decided to brake up because you both thought it was the right thing to do. 

Was it really?

You tried dating some guys over the months, Jane set you up on various blind dates but you never felt right with the poor guys. You always politely declined their second date proposal.

He was the only one who felt good and right.

Here you are now, getting ready for Jane and Leo’s wedding. You were so happy for your best friend. Leo proposed to Jane when Aron and you were together. You, Leo and Aron set up the proposal and it was so heartwarming. 

It was the wedding morning, you, Jane, her bridesmaids and mom were getting ready for the wedding. You were so excited and happy for it because Jane and you always imagined getting married since you were kids. 

The place was magnificent. It was simple but colorful, the smell of fresh flowers and the astonishing decors were perfect.

“Y/N, I’m getting married today.” Jane told you while she was getting her hair ready. You can feel by her voice that she was getting emotional by tears filling in her eyes. This also made your emotional personality surface.

“I know Jane, it’s crazy, you’re not gonna be my hot single wingman anymore and we won’t be stalking hot guys.” you said while laughing with your tears. She sobbed more emotion pouring for her eyes and told you to shut up.

“Remember when we used to plan our weddings, you always picked Leonardo Di Caprio and I always picked Brad Pitt, we were going to get married in Hollywood and it would be the perfect wedding?” Jane claimed with nostalgia.  Leonardo Di Caprio was your biggest celebrity crush in the entire world. You laughed and sobbed together as you remembered your old memories.

After hugging and comforting each other Jane spoke ,“You know he’s gonna be here.” You knew exactly who she meant. The one and only Aron. You weren’t sure you’re ready to see him but you didn’t want to ruin your best friend’s most special day.

“We’re not gonna be thinking about my problems today, it’s your day carina!” You said trying to change the subject and hoping she would forget.

“Y/N, baby, I think you guys should talk again it’s clear that you-” Jane couldn’t even finished her sentence someone interrupted her.

“Jane, come on it’s the time, we’re going.” her mom said. Wow it was the time.

Meanwhile in the grooms room Leo was getting ready.

"Wow, my man is getting married!" Aron said excitedly walking into Leo's room

"Isn't it weird? Like me getting married?" Leo claimed joy filling in his voice.

"Cabron today is gonna be awesome and you're gonna marry your dream girl, also the honeymoon is a perfect time!" Aron reminded smirking, cheering up his best friend. He was very happy for his best friend and tried not to remember his dream girl.

"She's also gonna be there Aron." Leo told him.

Aron was feeling the same grief, over you. It wasn’t over for him. Leo and Jane knew that and they always talked about how those two precious human beings are suffering for no reason.

Aron had the most painful time of the year when you guys broke up. He felt weird because he never felt that way with a person in his life. He always teared up when he heard your name. He always bottled up his emotions but Leo knew he was sad. 

Aron looked at his phone while trying to ignore what he said about his ex, and then he realizes it's the time.

"Cabron it's the time we gotta go!" Aron said rapidly.

"Ah shit we should go! But you gotta talk that girl Aron please" said Leo before going. Aron ignored his comment but couldn’t help but think what would happen if he did

After Leo and Jane said their yes' and speech, you were legit sobbing out of happiness. Their wedding was perfect. You couldn't help but think of him cause you thought he was the one, he is still the one.

"Y/NNN IM MARRIEEEEEDDDD YAYYY!!!" Jane screamed hugging you from the behind while you were talking something with a friend.

"I KNOWW IM SO PROUD OF YOU I CRIED SO MUCH DUMBASS" You claimed expressing your happiness.

"Thank you Y/N, now it will be weird being introduced as married" Leo said while laughing.

They looked at the dancing stage, the people were waiting for them so you let them go. They danced with Louis Armstrong, Stevie Wonder and many romantic artists’ songs.

You looked around to see if Aron's there. He was there.

He was watching Leo and Jane dancing but there was another girl trying to flirt with him. You were furious for no reason. He wasn't even yours.

Aron also looked around to see you. He did see you but a girl was trying to flirt with him but he ignored her and continue to look for you.

After many songs there was it. That song was playing.

"Same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now"

After that lyric, you looked at Aron and he looked at you.

"Our song on the radio but it don't sound the same"

"When our friends talk about you, all it does is just tear me down"

"Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name"

You looked at Jane and Leo. They set this up of course it's their job.

"It all sounds like ooh, ooh hoo hoo"

"Mm, to young to dumb to realize"

"That I should have bought you flowers"

"And held your hand"

"Should have gave you all my hours"

"When I had the chance"

"Take you to every party cause all you wanted to do was dance"

The accuracy of this song made you sob through the song and you ran to the bathroom.

That song always made you cry. It was fricking Bruno Mars.

"Get yourself together Y/N, it's over, are you dumb? Stop doing that! Stop making yourself sad!" you mumbled taking mental notes to yourself.

You were alone in the bathroom but then, you heard someone's footsteps. It was clear that it was a man you understand through the sound of the shoes. But who is it?

It can't be him, right?

"Y/N hey, can we talk please?" Aron said knocking on your door.

"Aron? Is that really you?” You asked feeling your heart feeling pain through your chest.

"Yes, please open your door and come here" Aron's husky voice and you can understand that he was also crying.

You opened the door, walking in front of him, taking a tissue, cleaned your nose while looking at him. He looked back for a second. But then he stopped.

"How are you Aron?" You asked feeling the tense.

"Fuck Y/N! Ever since you've gone my life had been hell!" he started to cry.

There was an awkward silence but you decided to talk.

“Aron I always went to many dates but no one is like you. I can't stop thinking of you." He stand there, trying to process what you were saying. He didn't say anything.  You felt an immediate panic. "I don't know I probably shouldn't have to say these. I'm sorry!" You said while feeling the guilt so bad.

But then when you're leaving, he held your wrist.

"Y/N it's always gonna be you. No matter how many girl i see, hook up or be girlfriend with will never be like you. You're the one. It's always gonna be you."

You felt sudden urge to kiss him. And you cupped his cheeks, wet from crying and kissed his lips.

The kiss was so long but it was so passionate. You could taste Aron's lips. It was full of grief and it was itchy because he always bite his lips harshly.

"Soo, does this mean we're back together?" he smiled between the make out session.

"Hmmm.. You could say so" You smirked stopping the kisses and hugging him tightly.

"I missed you so much cabron you have no idea" Aron told you so seriously.

"I missed you more but you’re here now" You defended yourself with wide grin on your face

That moment last 5 minutes more and then you and Aron decided to go dance on stage and announce you’re together again.

Jane and Leo were worried for you while they were dancing, cause they saw you crying. They knew, that song was your sweet spot because Aron and you always listened Bruno Mars. They opened it open purpose but it wasn’t to hurt you. It was for you and Aron.

Then a while longer, you weren't still nowhere to be found, Jane was almost going to leave the dance stage. But then she saw two familiar faces walking to the stage.

"ARON? Y/N? HOLDING HANDS?" Jane yelled at Leo.

"Oh my god baby! We're match makers!!" Leo yelled back.

"Hi guys!" you shyly smiled at the newly married couple. They were still in shock.

"We're back together. Thank you for helping us." Aron said holding your hands tightly.

Leo and Jane couldn't help but hug you guys tightly.

It was a perfect night.

After sending Jane and Leo to their honeymoon, you cried again. Aron cried with you. Everyone was so happy. Weddings as usual.

"You know it's the best day of my life today." Aron said, hugging you before leaving.

"I know, our best friends got married, and we got back together. Isn't that the best thing?" You smiled with full of happiness. You continued to hug.

"I'm hungry, we should get food" Aron broke the silence. You couldn’t help but laugh so hard. He was a whole mood

"Let's go get McDonalds?" You asked with amusement.

He looked at you smiling and said "McDonalds date it is!"

Best things in the whole world. Food and your boyfriend.

He was the one,

He was your man,

It's always gonna be him.

Song Credits: When I Was Your Man - Bruno Mars

[poptod]

All the Stars in the Universe (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Ahkmenrah pining ft. you being a dumb shit (just a quick drabble. gender neutral reader)

Prompt: Honey

Notes: Not sure if I mentioned this before, but I found the family that Ahkmenrah and Kahmunrah are based off of! I think. It took a lot of research and I don’t know why I did it. Anyway, they’ve got two more brothers. *Aur: the Nile River (Nile means River in the Egyptian language) **Uat-Ur: Mediterranean Sea ***Kemet: Egypt

AO3 Link: All the Stars in the Universe

Word Count: 8.7k

For some reason, you were never the main focus. Sure, you’re the main focus of this story, but of most stories you’d come across in your short lifetime, you were not the main character. That duty fell to your sister, and then to your father, respectively. When you were around eight years old your sister was sold, a typical practice, and not one your family wanted to commit, but desperate times indeed called for desperate measures. It wasn’t for a long while till she eventually found her way back home, and with that, came a wonderful story of foreign lands, and a whole lot of murder. Then your father, when you were around ten years of age, befriended a prince by sheer luck. Nearby, next to the sea lay a tiny little country, titled Ahahiyawa, with a prince too friendly for his own good. He was much older than you, probably in his late-twenties, and he spent a good deal of his time wandering down the coast, and incidentally coming across your little village.

Pthana was his name, and after coming across a place far more humble than what he was used to, he found a certain charm in it, and often returned when royal life came to be too much for him. You didn’t really understand that, but it wasn’t yours to understand. He and your father got along swimmingly, and were great friends, till the world turned upside down with the sacking of his home.

One afternoon he came running from the distance, collapsing and panting in front of the cold firepit. His clothes were torn, and from his head a cut bled, his fingers covered in ash. All around people, many of them your family members, gathered to the prince, abandoning their clothes, food, and regular duties to hear whatever news he had to impart.

“Some foreign power - I could not find who, but they have killed my entire family,” he let out a choked sob, but held tears back long enough to continue, “they’re following me, I ask for your help. Provisions, so I may survive perhaps a little longer.”

“If what you say is true,” your father, who was the chief of your village, said, “then they will not hesitate to kill us as well, should they come across us, which they most certainly will if they followed you. I’m afraid we must all go, if we want to live.”

In that moment, you recalled feeling a healthy amount of fear, but the actual reality of your situation didn’t really kick in. It wasn’t possible that you could die, right? The thought wasn’t one that had ever crossed your mind before then. In fact, the shock had caught you in such a state that the actual fear didn’t start up until you were two days into the desert with nothing but what you and your mules could carry. Throughout the whole of this rather traumatic time in your life, you were fifteen years old, and very, very scared.

“Will we go home soon?” You asked your mother, tugging at the long cloth that shrouded her whole body.

“Um… maybe. We’ll see what your father says.” Though most of her face was obscured by her niqab, her eyes held the distinct shiftiness of a liar. You held her with a scrutinizing look, but let it go.

You learned something very important that night, with that tiny conversation with your mother, and sneaking into your fathers’ tent to listen to him talking with Pthana - perhaps happiness does not last forever.

By around the tenth sunrise, you began to forget to count the days. Luckily, your brother kept time, as the sky was one of his passions. Around this time, you lost the river you’d been following, and all that stretched was sand. For decades and decades you could wander in any direction, and find nothing but dust and misery, but misery found you far before you could ever find it. It came in the form of a sandstorm, arising at such a speed and strength that no shelter could be put up before it overtook you. Petrified from fear you gaped at the rising cloud, and as it pierced your skin it began to do so to your throat.

In a flash your mother grabbed you, wrapping up in the long cloth she wore, covering you from the horrid storm that surely would have torn your skin off had you stayed where you were. You couldn’t have known at any time before then, but you were exceedingly lucky that your family had the habit of covering their skin with as much cloth as they could. You, however, and you alone, got the short end of the stick, the back of your throat ravaged beyond belief to the point where any attempt at speech was unbearably painful.

From then on, terrified to death of another storm arising, you wore a cloth wrapped around the bottom half of your face, and a turban on top, with various shirts and shawls covering your arms and torso.

However frightening this time in your life was, happiness did exist in the world, although it certainly didn’t feel so to you. To you, the whole world had descended into chaos, and it was near impossible for anyone else to feel otherwise. Certainly, most certainly, everyone had to feel the same. Why wouldn’t they? Yet, as you entered a city of shining white walls, every soul seemed to prove you wrong.

You tried asking every now and then, walking through the streets and crowds of people, where exactly you were. Pulling at your parents clothing, you tried to motion the words with your hands. Your father payed you no attention, far too busy trying to find his way, and your mother told you that you wouldn’t know the city name anyway.

That’s beside the point, you thought bitterly, still trailing after your family.

At that point in your journey, you found there was a lot you didn’t know. You accepted that, made peace with it, and decided to keep an open mind on things you knew nothing of. But, if there was one thing you did know, it was that the biggest house in town always belonged to a man of great power, and that you don’t want to run into that man.

That was exactly what your father did.

He walked right up the steps of a palace seated in the massive city, and asked for an audience with a man they called Pharaoh. Throughout the escort you remained quiet as possible, your large gathering drawing confused and judging stares from the various nobles inhabiting the building. It wasn’t long till you knelt at the feet of a man upon a throne, adorned in glittering jewelry and golden cloth. Upon his head he wore a crown, a snake delicately carved into it, and held his staff which stretched far beyond the reach of his height.

Keeping his head low Pthana stepped forward, explaining the situation and your family’s presence. Pharaoh seemed to take his word, leaning forward in mild interest as the story continued to the escalation and onwards, to the escape into the desert, and the arrival in the great city you just then learned was titled Memphis.

He must’ve seen something, the Pharaoh; a potential ally, or a peaceful gesture in Pthana’s words, as he directed a few people to show you and your family to rooms you could stay in. Eternally grateful, your father thanked you profusely, to the point where the Pharaoh was clearly annoyed. Eventually you pulled him away, doing both you and the Pharaoh a favour.

For some reason, each of your family members got their own room, including you. You reasoned to yourself that it was a show of power, of riches, and that he hadn’t meant any ill by it. Theirs was a very different culture than your own, that one could easily see with their easy lack of dress and abundant food.

Over the time you spent in the palace, a good deal of it was spent in their water garden. The nile, one they called Aur*, had a little drain that came right to the garden, and the plants that grew there were always green and forever blossoming. Besides that, you kept to yourself, something that unbeknownst to you, infuriated the prince you hadn’t even noticed existed.

He’d first seen you in the throne room, bowed at the feet of his father, and your delicate beauty enraptured him. For weeks he’d been trying to get your attention in subtle ways - sitting next to you, passing you by in the gardens, even talking to your father and your siblings, but nothing seemed to get to you. No, simply, he wasn’t in your field of importance, and as upset as this made him, he vowed to do something about it. You caught his curiosity, and he preferred to find answers a more natural way rather than to ask straight out.

You remained blissfully unaware of his attempts, as it never occurred to you that… something could happen to you. You, the small child that was only a character to fill your fathers’ story, and to listen to your sister, to help your mother but never to be listened to. You just weren’t interesting enough. He certainly thought you were, though, but as unaware as you were of him, he was just as unaware of your inner monologue.

To his fortune, the perfect opportunity to introduce himself came around; surely you couldn’t be impervious to his flirtations, couldn’t ignore him if he offered a dance during one of his fathers’ parties, right? In his mind, it was decided, and in his mind he kept the perfect image reel of how the evening would go. You would enter the dining hall, and stay quiet by your family, till he would ask your hand for a dance, leaving you starstruck with him once you finally noticed he wanted your attention.

He stood in front of his floor length mirror, fluffing up his robes and making sure they flowed perfectly from his body, grooming himself for the evening. Twirling, he smiled to himself, the gold fabric cascading like a golden sunrise. He wasn’t one to be narcissistic, and certainly not one to be vain, but he had to admit he looked nice. That was his aim after all, to sweep you off your feet, and to do so, fine attire was a necessity.

Once the sun began to set over distant hills the palace began to flood with people, all filing into the dining hall, where the main event would take place. Each royal had their place at the head table, lifted off the dance floor and looking over all other tables. In the center sat the Pharaoh, to his side his consort and sons. Sitting there was also Pthana, who was allowed to do so due to his own royalty. You on the other hand, sat near the head table, but still in the common tables. For a long while the sun kept the hall alight, torches dim compared to its’ power, till at last it set and the music started.

From various tables musicians stood, and the tables were all pushed to the sides of the room for a dance floor. At once beautiful melodies came from the instruments, many of which you’d never seen before. The room seemed to come alive, nobles dancing with each other, their rich tresses swirling in a poetic caper. You would’ve joined, but you couldn’t dance, and you certainly didn’t know the complicated steps of this foreign dance. Besides that, you enjoyed the music, and your dull clothing certainly wouldn’t fit in anyways.

Caught up in the beauty of the music, how it traveled through the air like magic, you didn’t notice as a boy your age came closer, till he stood before you, a tall golden crown upon his head, and a long cape trailing after him.

“May I dance with you?” He asked, a voice so soothing you could feel your whole body relax just as it tensed.

“I - uh,” you tried to get out nervously, your voice failing you as it so often did. You turned to your mother, your brow knitted together in anxiety. She took one look at the boy, then at you, before nodding. You glanced back at him, his hand outstretched as he bowed slightly. Upon his face a smile graced his lips, tugging delightfully at his crinkled eyes as you took his hand.

“My name is Ahkmen,” he told you, holding you close to him, his hand on your waist as the two of you twirled in time with the other dancers.

“Ode,” you replied with your own name, your voice coming out rough and uneven. Looking away embarrassed, he spun you around, and the two of you circled each other. He led you in each direction you needed to go, and, watching what others did, you copied the dance in a way that would hopefully suffice.

Now, at this point, you were still completely impervious to the fact that you were dancing to the prince of Kemet***, and the favorite son of the Pharaoh that saved you and your family from certain death in the desert. No, you were completely under the impression that this was just a very well dressed boy who simply wanted a dance. He on the other hand, believed you were starstruck with him, and the fact that royalty chose you. His over-inflated sense of self-importance, an only common trait of many princes, certainly wasn’t any help to him in this situation.

The two of you continued your dance, him enraptured in your beauty, and you stumbling anxiously over your own feet, till the song ended, and he returned you to your parents. Winking slyly, he leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand. Only then did your heart stutter from his actions, your face flushing red as he came back up, smiling a confident smile, and striding off to stand near his own parents.

“What a nice boy,” your mother commented, leaning closer to you. Thoughtlessly you nodded, your gaze still trailing after him in a curious manner.

You spent the rest of the evening thinking back to that dance. It was just a curious little happening, and you deemed it strange, and likely to never happen again. Though, to your surprise, something similar did in fact happen, whether you wanted to or not. As the same boy, Ahkmen, held out his hand once more not asking for a dance but instead for a stroll, you couldn’t decide if you were scared or excited. Nonetheless, you accepted, and in an achingly sweet hold he took you away from the dining hall filled with raucous laughter.

“I wondered if you could tell me more about yourself. I’ve heard precious little,” he requested, an ask you would have to regretfully decline.

For a moment you paused, your feet still moving you down the hall as you tried to tell him you couldn’t really speak. You tried with your hands, but that didn’t work, and your voice seemed to have entirely quit on you.

“Not one for speaking?” He asked, and though his tone remained polite, there was no missing the fall of his smile.

You nodded, accompanied with a shrug. A half truth.

“Then… perhaps I could tell you about myself?”

Once again, you nodded, this time much more eager. As little as you’d known him, you felt yourself suddenly very fluttery around the boy, as though the mere presence of him would make you fall in love. He was quite handsome, you had to admit, with piercing eyes and softer skin than any you’d felt before. Finding yourself caught up in his beauty, you hardly noticed him leading you into the gardens you frequented so often. Now, unlike the many days you’d spent there, the moon shone brighter than any star. Night rarely appeared so bright, the shadow you cast on the ground clear and distinct from the general murkiness of the evening. As pale as moonlight was, it felt warmer than ever to feel its’ light.

“Well, I’m the second youngest son of my father. I’ve got three brothers, one younger, two older, though I must admit I don’t care very much for any of them except Khufukhaf. He’s the youngest. Hmm… I’m studying hieroglyphs currently, though I’d rather spend my time chariot racing. That, or in the gardens… I find they have a special air, makes one feel much more alive.”

You agreed easily; one more thing for the two of you to have in common.

“Might I ask where you’re from?”

“I -“ you tried, the vibrations burning your throat, “- near the sea.”

The roughness and harsh growl of your voice was painful for you to hear, making you shrink back in on yourself. Usually your voice wasn’t like this, but after that sandstorm, you loathed to hear it for more than the fact that it simply wasn’t a kind voice to hear.

“Uat-Ur**? Or another one?” He asked, his eyes brightening at your speech. Straightening his posture just slightly, he delved deeper into the simple conversation between the two of you.

“Uat,” you shortened, hoping he wouldn’t mind. Swallowing, you tried to soothe the burn in the back of your throat.

“I’ve never been there. I hope to, one day, I’ve heard it’s beautiful,” he commented wistfully, his tone suddenly shifting from excited to, if anything a little melancholy. You again nodded your agreement. Your home by the sea really was beautiful, though you’d never truly taken the time to notice it before you were forced to flee.

“I suppose the nile here is beautiful as well. In the very least it’s practical. I… a lot of our poets try to describe the Aur as this wonderful woman, who’s beauty and bane are the sole heir to the world, but I’ve never really understood that. It’s just a nile, right? Yes, it feeds us, and for that we’re grateful, but there’s no need to be dramatic about it. Oh, I hope this doesn’t offend you. Do you like poetry like that? I would guess you do -“ he continued on before you could even think to speak “- considering you yourself must be the subject of many poems.”

You froze up, your jaw clenching as your heart raced in its’ cage. With wide eyes you looked up at him, confused and bewildered beyond belief. Why would he assume such a thing? You answered with a simple shake of your head - no. You had never been the subject of a poem. Mostly because none of the people you met could write.

“Hmm. I might have to change that, then,” he responded wistfully, looking up at the sky. Still confused, you wondered to yourself if it was custom for people to have poetry written about them in Memphis.

He continued to prattle on, a prattle you very much enjoyed as his voice soothed you quite so, till the moon sat high in the sky and the cheers of laughter ringing from the dining hall began to fade as people fell asleep and left. He spoke often of your beauty, though you didn’t catch onto that most times, and he spoke of the stars and constellations.

“It’s a passion of mine,” he told you. “I love the moon and stars.”

You came to know much more about him than just his love of chariot riding, gardens, and the night sky. He also enjoyed food - delicacies, the taste, and even making it, as well as the process of procuring ingredients for food. Overall, a very well rounded boy, sweeter than any stranger you’d met with the charms to match. To his disappointed surprise you did not kiss him at the end of the night, him standing at the threshold of your room as he held your hands in his.

“Thank you,” you got out in just barely over a whisper. He parted with a honey-sweet smile, bowing his head slightly and waiting till you closed your door to make his departure.

By the time you made it into bed, all washed up and in the right clothes, you found yourself agreeing with your mother. What a nice boy.

+

In the hallways you passed by him often, but you didn’t actually notice his presence till he came up to you one day, sitting at the edge of the nile’s water with your feet dipped in. It was a pleasantly warm day, a few clouds in the sky but otherwise clear weather, with various birds and other animals flitting about and singing their amiable song. You were admiring the wording on the walls, as you hadn’t noticed it before, too caught up in the brush of the garden.

“Hello Ode,” he said simply, sitting beside you with his legs crossed. You smiled and waved in return, wondering what he was doing in the palace but greeting him kindly anyway.

“I spoke to your parents, earlier. I think they like me,” he chuckled, leaning closer to you. You broke into a smile, looking down at the waters’ edge.

“They also told me why you don’t talk much. I want to apologize for trying to make you talk, it must hurt a lot,” he said, lowering to a quiet voice. Looking up at him you shrugged, your mouth parted slightly. It’s not like either of you could do anything about it.

“I might be able to help you. We have a very good physician here, he could at least give you a diagnoses,” he offered, watching as you lit up, your mouth gaping wider. Chuckling, he asked, “would you like me to take you to him?”

You nodded profusely.  No way would you turn down an opportunity such as this. Standing, he offered you his hand, which you took, helping you up. He led you back into the palace, through several halls, till you came to a tall wooden door, bolted shut. Knocking twice, a few footsteps sounded behind it, before it creaked open ever so slowly. Inside was a man so tall he had to lean down to see you, with ink black skin and stunning white hair that grew to great lengths.

“What have we here?” He asked, his voice surprisingly low and smooth. You half expected the man to rasp much like yourself.

“This is Ode. There’s something wrong with their voice,” Ahkmen stated clearly, smiling politely up at the tall man. You bowed your head as your own greeting. Sniffing, he opened the door wider, and the two of you entered the room.

It stunk - horribly, a wretched scent like the putrid mixture of decaying corpses and feces. Scrunching up your nose, you tried to keep your face neutral, so as to not show your disgust. The whole room was covered in dust, and old parchments rolled up in all the shelves. In the corner was a hole in the wall, airing out the room but doing little for the scent. Smoke from a fire filled the high ceiling, giving the whole room a hazy feel.

“Any pinpoint on when the voice troubles started?” The man asked, his back to you as he looked over a dusty scroll placed upon a pedestal.

“Sandstorm,” you got out, letting out a little cough as you did so. He nodded sagely, as though he knew just what you needed. You prayed he did.

Looking up, he turned to you with a smile, clasping his hands together. Then, turning to the fire, which had a pot of water over it, he took the water and poured it into a cup.

“I’d advise a good amount of hydration. Drink lots of water, and when available, tea,” he said, mixing honey into the cup. You turned to Ahkmen, who was now sitting in the corner and humming to himself, a tablet in his lap. Turning back, the man added another flowery substance, mixing it in, before handing it to you. Gingerly you took it from him, sniffing it cautiously before drinking.

Surprisingly, it didn’t taste bad at all - in fact, it was rather sweet, how you imagined a winter sunrise to taste like.

“Thank you,” you said, though your voice still remained raspy, it didn’t hurt quite as much.

“Try not to talk too much,” the man warned you. When another knock came at the already open door, and a stranger peeked his head in, the physician ushered you and Ahkmen out. You walked side by side, you keeping the cup close to your chest and him in a relaxed stroll.

“What do you think of him?”

“Nice,” you answered simply.

“Mm. I’m glad we have him, I really want to hear what you sound like. I bet you’ve got a beautiful voice.”

You shrugged, and he frowned, for reasons that remained to you unknown. As grateful as you were for this new friendship and the gifts it brought, you couldn’t easily express it, just as you couldn’t express your confusion for who exactly Ahkmen was that allowed him to wander the palace freely. Not that it really mattered - you were only curious, and it wasn’t necessary information.

He was very kind, you thought, after he escorted you back to your room. Lying on your bed and staring up at the ceiling you wondered why he was so nice to you. It wasn’t like you had a distinct personality anymore. You didn’t use facial expressions very often, and the only glimpse of a personality came from your words that you scarcely used even before the incident, so what interested him so deeply?

On the other side of the palace, Ahkmen wondered something similar to what you were wondering at the exact same time, though different in its’ own way. He questioned why you didn’t blush, simply didn’t understand that he was trying to flirt with you when it was so painfully obvious that he was. Every chance given to him he would compliment you, even going out of his way to help you, and it was beginning to grate on his nerves. Sure, your culture was different from his own, so it probably posed a bit of a problem there, but damn were you oblivious, and by the time he’d known you for two months or so, he was getting desperate.

Maybe if I throw a brick at you saying ‘I like you,’ you’ll get the idea, he thought to himself, watching as you played with the turtles at the waters’ edge. The edge of your lips twisted up into a half smile, sparking his heart to skip a beat. Over the time you’d spent in Memphis your voice had gotten much better, but you still rarely used it, only when necessary. That was another thing that annoyed him, but he didn’t place the blame on you. He recognized that, unfortunately, even as your voice healed you just didn’t talk much, and there was very little he could do about that besides enjoy the moments in which you did talk.

It was, once again, a perfect day. Not a cloud in sight, the sky a beautiful blue, and birds singing in the trees above. In the river fish swam by, and at your feet, turtles nudged curiously at the stick you held.

“Do you like turtles?” He asked, breaking the silence that had spanned for nearly an hour now.

“They’re sweet,” you replied, not taking your eyes off them.

“A bit like you, though you’re much sweeter,” he said, knowing full well he’d get very little reaction out of you. As predicted, you hummed a dull acknowledgement.

He took your hand as you dropped the stick, shifting closer to you till his head rested on your shoulder. With gentle hold he began to trace the veins up your arm, a feather touch that sped your heart up tenfold. You attempted to keep a straight face, and kept your head looking forward, instead of at the boy who relaxed on you.

“Ahk?”

“Yes…?” He replied, looking up at you when for a few minutes you did not pose your question. The silence lasted a short while as you tried to find the right words.

“I’ve.. refrained, from saying this… as I didn’t want to offend you, but…-” Finally, to ask the question that had been bothering you so long, “- what is it you do in the palace? I haven’t been able to find out.”

“I’m - well I guess I’m not sure what I do,” he answered honestly, and a short giggle escaped from you, sparking him to smile warmly up at you. “As Pharaoh’s son, I have to make sure, should my elder brothers die, that I am prepared to rule Kemet. Other than that, I don’t do much.”

Your throat swelled thick with blood as you choked on his answer. A prince?! The entirety of your body tensed up, realizing very suddenly that a prince of a great kingdom was resting his head on your shoulder, and that he’d been doing that for a while now. Noticing your change in demeanor, he sat up straight, trying to catch your eye.

“Ode? Are you alright?” He asked, placing his hand on your shoulder and shaking gently.

“I, uh. I didn’t know you were a, um, prince,” you whispered out. A beat of silence, then he began to laugh, slow and quiet at first, till he rolled onto his back, tears falling from his eyes. Your mouth wide, you tried to help him up, absolutely mortified at the situation.

“Shh!” You told him. “This isn’t funny!”

“I’m sorry, but it so definitely is. How odd the occurrences that you’d never find out I’m prince!”

Giving it another thought, you realized it was a little queer. Surely his inferiors referred to him as Prince, and the Pharaoh refer to him as son, so it was quite the rare happening that no one would ever refer to him in front of you. That, and that it never came up in conversation, and his stance in the city would never come up with you around.

“I guess… it’s a little funny,” you mumbled as Ahkmen calmed down.

“It is! I find no offense in it, but I am glad the miscommunication has been cleared up.”

A prince. Your head spun with the possibilities, new meanings, and new questions that the information brought. If he was a prince, one of high standing, why in the world would he take any interest in you?

+

It wasn’t very often you couldn’t sleep well, so when you couldn’t sleep, you had close to no idea on how to help yourself. Tossing restlessly in your bed, you turned your gaze to the arches letting in the cool air of night. As the wind blew soft against your skin, you thought perhaps a walk might do you some good - you’d only seen the gardens at night once anyways.

Wrapped in your cloth you wandered down into the garden, watching the moon reflect into the water, ripples from various birds making the water dance. All stilled, and for a moment, all that mattered was the stars and their mystery, till footsteps sounded behind you. Half expecting Ahkmen, you turned around, instead to be greeted with a boy older than you.

“Oh. Hello,” he said, his voice high and timid. “It’s usually empty here.”

“Sorry,” you said, getting to your feet to leave.

“No, it’s alright,” he said, grabbing your wrist to stop you. “You’re my brothers’ friend, right?”

“Ahkmen? Yes.”

“I haven’t been able to introduce myself. My name is Khafra. I’m his older brother. Well, he’s got two, but anyways… what are you doing up?”

He sat on the ground, gesturing with his head for you to join him. Slow and careful you sat beside him, a decent distance between the two of you, but not too much. Etiquette was a very important thing in the palace, you found, which was difficult since you had no idea what the proper etiquette was. Still, he didn’t seem to mind your nervousness, so you let it go.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you answered plainly, keeping your eyes on the edge of the water brushing the shore.

“Ah. Neither can I, but that’s normal for me. I haven’t seen you down here before. Do you come here often?”

“In the daytime. Not often in the night. I… I don’t usually have sleeping trouble.”

“Our physician might be able to help you. He has this flower, apparently helps with sleep,” Khafra suggested, turning to you.

“Why don’t you take it?” You asked, hoping you didn’t sound suspicious.

“I’m allergic.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No trouble. Want me to take you to him?”

“Um…” You didn’t want to bother him, in fact you’d hate to, but you couldn’t remember which way the physician was, and you needed to sleep at some point. “Yes. Thank you.”

With a smile and a nod he helped you stand, and lead you through familiar hallways till you once more came to that wooden door. Khafra didn’t knock, instead opening the door with a creak. The smoke of the day had already dissipated, and moonlight shone through the window, a silver of what it once was.

“Adom?” He called, trying to keep quiet. In the corner of the room, the snoring physician jumped with a grumble, lying on the floor with an assortment of plants, vials, and scrolls across his body. His eyes half lidded he straightened himself up, standing at attention when he noticed the prince.

“Sleep troubles again, eh?” Adom said, his voice just as pissed off as ever.

“Yes, but I’m more here for my friend, Ode. I don’t think you’re allergic to valerian, right?” He turned to look at you, and you shook your head. Probably not - to your knowledge, you’d never actually come across it.

“Mmm. More tea, then… Ahkmen could use some as well, to be honest,” said Adom, talking to himself as he tended to the dying fire.

“Is he having troubles as well?” Khafra asked, sitting himself down on a large chair near the bookcase.

“Somewhat. He’s in the backroom, studying those Hittite texts again, trying to match it to our star charts.”

“Again? Seriously? Gods…” Khafra grumbled, stomping his way into the backroom, where, for an instant, you glimpsed Ahkmen before he shut the door behind him.

“Take a seat, child. It’ll be ready soon,” Adom insisted, leading you to the chair Khafra had been sitting in. Gingerly you took a seat, keeping your knees locked together, your back stiff as a board, and your fingers tightly threaded with each other. Feeling rather out of place, you tried to find a place to stare at that wouldn’t raise any questions. You settled on the window, the dusty light of a half moon illuminating the fires’ shadow.

Behind the door you heard voices, raised to yelling, then laughter, followed once more by yelling.

Interesting family, you thought to yourself, your eye still not moving from the window. When at last the water began to boil, the door opened, and out came the two brothers. Adom took the water off the fire, pouring it into the cup you’d used before, adding in what you assumed was valerian. Looking to the brothers, Adom pulled out another cup, pouring water into that as well. In the corner they continued speaking in a hushed voice, Ahkmen not noticing you. Once Adom finished mixing the two cups, he handed one to you, then to Ahkmen.

“What’s this?” He asked, looking down at his cup then back up at Adom.

“Sleep tea. I’m kicking you out,” Adom explained dully, turning back to the corner you’d found him in and sitting in the papers he’d been sleeping with.

“I -“ his eye found you, “- oh, hello Ode. What are you doing up?”

“What are you doing up?” You retaliated, sipping at your tea.

“Studying -“

“When you should be sleeping,” Khafra interrupted, poking his brother in the chest, before making his way over and sitting in a chair beside you.

“I don’t need sleep, I need answers,” he pouted, setting his cup down on the table and largely ignoring it in favour of staring at you. Uncomfortably you shifted, crossing your left leg over the other.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t have answers,” you mumbled, staring at your tea. A moment of silence passed, before Khafra stood, clasping his hands together.

“I’m going to go see if I can sleep now. You,” he pointed at Ahkmen, “drink. And as for you,” he turned to you, “I can see why Ahkmen likes you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re intriguing and… beautiful,” he said quietly, hesitating before the compliment. “I’d probably try to marry you if my brother didn’t already have you.”

He smiled curtly at the both of you, then left. Ahkmen was horrified, clearly so, a panic stricken expression on his face, his mouth hanging open. You on the other hand, were frozen in place, unsure of what had just happened.

“Hmm,” you hummed, instead of using a proper response. With that, the two of you decided unanimously and silently that you would pretend Khafra had never said that. Still, it left a good deal of questions, all of which you were happy to dismiss if you never had to confront the idea of marriage again.

“What are you doing up?” Ahkmen asked, finally taking his cup and sipping from it.

“Just couldn’t sleep. That’s all. Went to the gardens, found Khafra, and he recommended this,” you explained, holding the tea up. “So. Star charts?”

“Yes! Um, the Hittites have these certain shapes they find in the stars, just as we do. I’m attempting to match up the different things we’ve found. It’s a little difficult, to be honest,” he ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it up. Looking back up at you, a spark in his eye, your stomach flipped inside out, eyes widening at his smile.

“Sounds interesting,” you said, instead of freaking out.

“I find it interesting. I don’t think anyone else does, though.”

“You two need to sleep,” Adom said, still in his corner looking over the various scrolls he’d crushed in his sleep. Looking up at Ahkmen, he nodded, and the two of you quickly finished your teas and departed with a thanks.

You didn’t have a habit of wandering around palaces at night, but you thought maybe you should make a routine of it. The silence calmed you as much as it disturbed you, dark halls holding possibly nothing or everything in them.

“Shall I walk you back to your room?” Ahkmen suggested, and you nodded with a grateful smile. He was sweet, that you already knew, even if it always seemed to surprise you. By then you should’ve known better, known he was kind and soft, yet still you wondered why he was nice to you. You didn’t need his kindness, nor his friendship, as much as you loved it. You still weren’t important.

“You’re far too kind to me,” you said, voicing your inner thoughts, and unknowingly your fear.

“I’m not. You deserve kindness,” he said, stopping you in front of your room before you could enter. “You deserve kindness,” he repeated. “The universe loves you to the extent of the heavens, but I still love you more.” Gently, he threaded his fingers into yours, every touch they made together godly in its’ purpose.

“Your words.. are more suited, for someone like you,” you murmured, slow and thoughtful of every word. Tilting his head, he tried to meet your eye, but you kept staring nervously at the floor.

“If, um.. if you can’t sleep, come get me, okay?”

“Alright.”

With a smile he departed, looking back once to find you still watching him leave. Chuckling, he turned a corner, and disappeared from sight. Only then did you go back inside your room, collapsing onto the floor, your back to the door.

So that’s what it feels like to have poetry written about you.

+

For the next week you paid more attention to the little things he did - the compliments, though you never payed much attention to them, were beginning to stand out in your memory. Khafra was a good confidant whenever you needed to talk about your crush on the young prince, as Kahmuh was almost always in the middle of a tantrum, while Khufukhaf, the youngest brother, was too immature to know when to keep his mouth shut. At least, that’s what Khafra said, and you would rather be safe than sorry.

“I like him, but he makes me nervous,” you told him, sitting across from him and a game of Senet between the two of you.

“You’ll get over that, I think. You’re naturally pretty anxious,” he noted, looking your tense body up and down, “so it’ll dissipate the longer you know him.”

“Doesn’t matter either way,” you mumbled, making your move on the board. Picking out his own pieces, he trained his eyes intensely on the game.

“What does that mean?” He asked.

“Well, even if I do find that I… love him, I couldn’t be with him. He’s royal, I’m not even from Kemet.”

“I thought you were already together?”

“What? No! No,” you cleared your throat, feeling rather awkward after your outburst. Would it really be that bad if he was with you? Well, no, you reasoned, but it would still be breaking plenty of rules.

“It wouldn’t do any harm, you know. He’s third in line for the throne, I doubt both Kahmuh and I will die before we have our own children, so it shouldn’t matter who he marries,” he reasoned, picking at the loose splinters of the wooden table. Sighing, you moved your piece, resting your head on your palm.

“Even so, I doubt anyone would like me in that way.”

“You are the most dense, oblivious person I’ve met,” he said plainly as you made your move in the game.

“Thanks.”

You joined him for dinner, your parents and Pthana being present as well. The Pharaoh sat at the head of the table, overlooking the feast being set out in front of him. Always trying to be respectful, you kept your eyes on your own plate, empty though it was. Across from you, the four brothers sat, and directly in front of you was Ahkmen, who kept trying to catch your eye with a smile.

“Do you feel like we’re infringing on their hospitality?” You asked your mother in a whisper once conversation had started up between the Pharaoh, Pthana, and Kahmuh.

“Your father worked that out with the Pharaoh. We may stay as long as we like so long as Pthana stays,” she explained curtly before turning back to the head of the table.

Swallowing thick, you tried to continue as normal. The thought of leaving the palace didn’t bother you too much, in the very least you’d stop being their problem. What bothered you was being in Pharaoh’s presence - he terrified you to your very core, the stone behind his eyes an unbreakable barrier to his mind. You remained respectful, if not fearful, and left as soon as it was possible.

Your room was safe, you thought to yourself, even if it belonged to the Pharaoh. Overlooking a beautiful stretch of the Aur, you knew you had a lot to be thankful for. Resting your elbows on the railing, you looked out, sighing as a soft gust of wind rushed by you. Two knocks at the door resounded in your empty room, and as you turned to face the door, it opened a crack.

“Ode? May I come in?” Ahkmen asked, peeking his crinkled eyes in. With a nod, he entered fully, smiling brightly at you.

“Need something?” You asked as he approached you, him remaining silent till he stood almost too close.

“No, just wondering where you ran off to,” he said smiling at you before looking over the top of your head at the view from your balcony.

“I, um, wasn’t feeling well,” you lied quickly. “Thought some rest might help.”

“I understand. I’ve got a similar view from my room, except it looks over the city. From our height it sort of looks like a reflection of the heavens,” he murmured wistfully.

“What?”

“The city. People light their torches and the taverns glow at night, but it’s still sparse enough that the streets don’t light, so all those lights look like stars in the darkness. It’s beautiful, but you can’t see the nile easily. Not like you can here,” he said, breathing night air deeply. He stood at the railing, his elbows supporting him as he leaned.

“It’s… nice,” you settled on. Starlight glittered in the water, and leaves rustled in the breeze, but you weren’t one for poetry. At least not usually, not often, not until Ahkmen had you breathless with only words.

“You say very little,” he said suddenly, an observation too obvious to state, “but I feel like I know you, that I’m close to you. I - I’m just now realizing you may not feel that way around me.”

You let the silence stretch, wondering what words you could use to comfort him, what actions you could take. Breathing slow, uneven breaths you rested your hand on his arm, your touch barely there as you made your way up to his hand, entangling your fingers together till you were pressed against him, the heat of your palms warming each other.

“I like you plenty. I feel… warm,” you mumbled, pressing your head into his chest and letting yourself relax.

“Is that good?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, keeping your eye on the distant water.

Pressing your vulnerabilities against each other, you stayed there for a while longer, too scared to move lest the moment rush by to only be memory.

“You should probably get to sleep if you aren’t feeling well,” he told you in a mellow voice, placing a hand on your shoulder and jostling you from your position. In an instant you remembered your little lie, and went along with it.

“You should as well,” you said, still staring at your hands knitted with his.

“I will. Promise,” he chuckled, walking with you till you were sitting on your bed. Before you could even attempt to lay yourself down, he stepped forward, leant down, and pressed a kiss against your lips.

Shocked into petrification, you stared wide eyed ahead at nothing in particular. Stammering just slightly, his face a brilliant shade of red, Ahkmen rushed out of the room without another word.

+

Over the course of the next several days you didn’t see him. Not for lack of trying on your part, in fact, the night of the act you’d rushed after him, only to reach your door and having no idea which way he went. Lost for cause of his disappearance, you went to Khafra, who had only failed you once before, but besides that was reliable. Fidgeting, pulling at your skin and pinching yourself you approached him as he read in the garden.

“Can I talk to you?” You asked in barely a whisper, your eyes still wide and not meeting his own.

“Of course. Something wrong?” He asked, setting the scroll down.

“I got kissed.”

“What?”

“Ahk kissed me,” you said louder, pinching your skin tighter.

“Really?” He raised his eyebrows, turning to you with a slow nod. “I’m impressed. Didn’t think he had the guts for it.”

“Why?”

“Why? Well, he’s never really been a go-getter -“

“No, I mean… why did he kiss.. me…?”

“Oh,” he mumbled, going silent as he stared at the ground. “He obviously really likes you. What happened after he kissed you?”

“He left, and I haven’t seen him since,” you explained, feeling rather guilty, if not sick in the stomach. As dull as the world had grown, it was still too much for you.

“Hmm… I think I might know where he is. I’ll go fetch him,” he said, standing up and leaving the parchment on the seat.

“I don’t want to bother you, I can get him,” you volunteered, shooting up from the seat you’d taken beside him.

“No, it’s alright. The place is a little hard to find - where shall I deliver him to?”

“Um.. here, I suppose,” you said after a moment of thought. The garden would work well as long as no one interrupted your talk. Hardly anyone ever used it anyways, besides sometimes Pharaoh’s wife, but she always stayed near the entrance, where the lilies were most plentiful. Further down the line, following the path of the water there were hanging trees filled with dates, and that would do just fine for a talk you knew would be grueling and embarrassing.

Deciding that it might be a while till the both of them came back, you occupied your time in the way any sane person would - lying on the grassy plain and staring up into the clouds that hung low in the afternoon sky.

Maybe it’ll rain later today, you thought absently. Or not, you added at the end, just in case you were wrong. Several hours passed, till it was nearing evening, till the doors of the garden swung open. Far enough away that you couldn’t be spotted, you hid behind a nearby tree, and watched as the two brothers walked side by side.

“This is a bad idea. What I did was a bad idea,” Ahkmen said, clearly distressed no matter how hard it was to hear him. He didn’t wear his crown, nor his wig, and his hands kept gripping at the curls upon his head and tugging harsh at them.

“You’ll be fine. Can’t ignore your problems forever, any way you look at it. This’ll be good for you,” Khafra insisted, patting him on the back and shoving him in your direction. You crouched down behind the tree, waiting till he passed by and would be able to see you.

Moving down the path, now alone, he caught sight of you and froze with a blush.

“Ahkmen, I was worried about you,” you said, deciding that it would be a good opening statement to not mention the kiss. Standing, you held his wrist, hoping it’d stop him from running away should he want to.

“I - uh, yeah, sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and keeping his gaze low.

“It’s fine, I just… we need to talk,” you said with a sigh, moving to try and meet his eye, but he refused. He hummed, his shoulders sagging and head held low.

“Ahk?”

“Yeah, I’m - I’m listening.”

“… okay. Why’d you kiss me?”

“I don’t know. I thought that you liked me, y’know, in that way.”

“That’s - do you have - I… most people kiss people because they like them. Not because the other person might like them.”

“I know, I just thought that it’d be… reciprocated, or something. It was dumb, and I’m sorry.”

“… what would be reciprocated?”

“You know you’re really oblivious sometimes?”

“I’ve gotten that before,” you chuckled, your heart beating fifty times a second. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to outright say what you mean. I don’t get the subtle things in life.”

“It’s really a shame, too. You miss a lot when you can’t understand the small motions of the world, and… all those times that people try to express their love,” he said, haltingly as he moved your hand grasping his wrist to hold in his own. Still, he did not meet your eye, instead staring at your held hands.

“I know,” you mumbled, feeling rather disappointed in yourself.

“I tried to show you, actually. I thought you knew, thought it was obvious, but apparently not. I’ve… sort of.. fallen for you, over your stay here. I’m not ashamed of it or of myself, rather the manner in which I tried to express it. Wasn’t very appropriate,” he muttered the last bit, turning away. Taking a chance, you rested your hand on his cheek, and gently turned him to at last face you. His eyes glittered red with unshed tears, but he sniffed, quickly wiping them away. “I’m sorry,” he reiterated.

“No need,” you said sweetly, brushing a stray tear away with your thumb. However vague it had been before, it was so clear now - though there were still many unanswered questions, you’d be okay.

“Is it alright if I kiss you?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

[elizabeth-mitchells]

Andy and Quynh One Shots - chapter 50 -  Impossibly Sweet and Disgustingly in Love

Prompt: Andy and Quynh being impossibly sweet and disgustingly in love around everyone Tags: Post-Canon, Fluff, Extreme Fluff, Tooth-rotting fluff, dangerous amounts of fluff, absolutely nothing but fluff

reposting my favorite one with an added bonus to wish everyone a happy new year!!

the most beautiful and incredible art inspired by this prompt by the lovely and crazy talented @mortt-artsy is here 

The first victim was Booker. Ever since he had joined the team, considering Joe and Nicky were always together, he was used to partnering up with Andy during their missions. When Nile joined in and shortly after they were reunited with Quynh, he stayed with the two older women while Nile joined the other couple. Now, seeing Andy and Quynh fight side by side was an incredible thing, it was admirable, intimidating and somehow, beautiful. But, then there was the downside, whenever they had to sit around and wait for a signal or the right moment to attack, and he was left there while Andy and Quynh…

“Andromache, focus!” Quynh squirmed on her place on Andy’s lap. They were sitting on top of a building somewhere, Booker was intensely focused on his binoculars pointing at somewhere in the distance, and Andy was thoroughly entertained holding Quynh in her arms and kissing her neck.

“I am focused!” Andy tried to defend herself but, after another kiss, she added, “but only on you.”

“Lucky me,” Quynh whispered, turning her head to meet Andy’s eyes. There she found the usual unmeasurable love and adoration in every shade of green.

“No, I’m the lucky one here,” Andy held her close, softly brushed her nose against Quynh’s, and then finally indulged herself in kissing her favorite pair of lips.

In the background, they could faintly hear Booker cursing in French under his breath.

--

Soon enough, Nile encountered a similar fate. Andy and Quynh had volunteered to cook dinner, but after it was obvious they weren’t getting very far on it, Nile forced herself to go in and help. Though she stopped in her tracks when she entered the kitchen and found Andy sitting on the counter and Quynh standing between her legs. The two women were exchanging quick kisses and completely ignoring Nile’s presence.

“We could forget about dinner, you know?” Andy kissed her. She had her arms loosely draped on her lover’s shoulders, and she was strongly considering just pulling her closer already. Then she added, “I have something different in mind.”

“Oh, do you, my heart?” It was Quynh’s turn to kiss her, “I think I might have the same thing in mind.”

They kissed again while they ignored the whispered “Gross,” coming from Nile still standing by the doorway trying to get their attention.

“Something sweet?” Andy whispered against her lover’s lips.

Quynh lightly bit Andy’s bottom lip and then slowly released it and pulled away enough to say, “Stop pretending you’re flirting, I know you hate cooking and would seriously prefer to jump to the dessert.”

Andy laughed wholeheartedly at that, and let her head fall on Quynh’s shoulder, “I love you so much,” she said, with her lips brushing the woman’s neck.

“Guys!” Nile turned around and yelled in the direction of the living room, “We are ordering pizza!”

--

Even Joe and Nicky, previously unparalleled couple in being extravagantly in love with each other, found some… light aversion to the two women’s newly rekindled flame. The two men perfectly understood how passionate love could be between two immortal beings, and they had even seen Andy and Quynh before torture and grief had tainted their souls. However, now they were seeing what it meant to have five hundred years of love to make up for. Plus, it looked like the women had suddenly remembered their old on-going joke of annoyingly, but hopefully playfully, constantly reminding the men that they had been together for much, much, much longer.

They were driving away after a mission. Joe was behind the steering wheel, Nicky was on the passenger seat and Quynh was sitting in the back seat, with Andy laying down with her head on Quynh’s lap.

“So, it’s almost three thousand years now then?” Quynh wondered, while her fingers played with Andy’s hair, “Three millennia of devoted and ardent love?”

“Yes,” Andy, who was holding Quynh’s other hand, brought it to her lips and started tenderly kissing her knuckles one by one. “I have treasured you since the very first dream of you I had, and I have adored you more and more every day.” Andy’s eyes were soft in a way that only Quynh had ever seen them, but Quynh also loved the way that in the blink of an eye she could read the sudden change for playfulness in her lover’s eyes. “We should celebrate like during our second millennium. So long ago, and still, it feels like yesterday.”

“I agree, my heart” Quynh smiled with matching mischief, “and do you remember our first thousand years together? It went by in the blink of an eye!”

“Oh, I could never forget!” Andy replied with a perfect teasing tone, “Even if we have loved each other for two more thousands of years after that.”

“That’s literally three times more, huh?” Quynh couldn’t hold back a small laugh, even if then she added more seriously, “Every thousand of years is impossibly better when I’m with you”. Her voice had turned soft and sincere and it was obvious she wasn’t just thinking about teasing their friends. Every ounce of love and truth in her voice and heart was perfectly matched in every feature of Andy’s face and the spark in her eyes. It was so easy to forget the rest of the world existed when they were staring at each other just like that.

Still, on the front seat, Nicky’s face was settled in a deep frown. Joe was tightly gripping the steering wheel, and he mumbled, “You two should get a taxi.” But they continued to be ignored by Andy and Quynh, still lost in each other’s eyes, in their memories, in all the love they had ahead of themselves.

--

This tendency of Andy and Quynh being impossibly sweet and disgustingly in love around everyone, didn’t lessen with time, to the surprise, delight, and annoyance of different members of the group.

Nile swore off grocery shopping with the two other women after the time that something about some cheese brought out a pleasant memory that had Andy and Quynh making out with each other in the middle of the aisle. On one occasion Booker had to shoot himself in the foot to get out of shooting practice, because successfully introducing Quynh to modern weapons had turned into Andy praising the woman’s skills in a seemingly unending speech. Then there was Joe, who would refuse to visit a certain mall for at least a century after someone in a store mistook him for Quynh’s husband, right before everyone there noticed his alleged wife getting up to some highly inappropriate business in the dressing rooms with another woman. Nicky wasn’t the exception either, since he had lost count of how many times he had to walk out of the kitchen, unable to take one more second of Andy and Quynh exchanging affectionate words and lovingly feeding each other bites of whatever sweet dessert they had that day.

Finally, when the entire family was together, well, there was no difference. They could try to tease Andy for her sudden, and wrongly deemed uncharacteristic, softness, but she’d reply with a threat or Quynh would successfully intimidate them in her defense or, more often than not, Andy would simply not notice at all, completely lost while staring at the love of her life. They could try to complain when both women laughed about inside jokes while they walked toward a mission, or when they flirted with each other in a dead language only they knew while they were all having dinner together.

But, at the end of the day, when it was time to enjoy some time to themselves, relaxing in some remote corner of the world, the six of them scattered around a safe house’s living room and watching a movie chosen by Nile, it wasn’t annoying at all. Centuries of pain, guilt, grief, and nightmares, that in moments like this they could pretend never happened. Moments when Nile, Booker, Joe, and Nicky can do nothing but exchange smiles with each other, genuinely overjoyed to watch Andy and Quynh, the two women that had suffered the longest, and loved each other even longer, finally get a chance to do nothing but enjoy each other’s company.

It didn’t matter if it could be annoying to be in the presence of the couple that had been together for the longest amount of time in history and still had the ability to love each other with the dedication and enthusiasm of millennia ago. Sometimes, all the mattered was Andy and Quynh, falling asleep in each other’s arms, with smiles in their faces, and in their hearts the glorious knowledge that they would wake up the next day to continue loving each other more than ever before.

[jewish-privilege]

...When the conference began Thursday morning, I was warned that protesters from the Bard chapter of Students for Justice in Palestine planned to interrupt my panel with [Ruth Wisse, a Harvard professor of Yiddish literature and scholar of Jewish history and culture, and Shany Mor, an Israeli thinker who is affiliated with the Hannah Arendt Center]. I was surprised they were not targeting the one on Zionism, but the one on anti-Semitism, the only panel of about 20 over the course of the two-day program where three Jews would be discussing the topic.

“But we’re not even talking about Israel,” I said to the conference organizers. “How does that make sense?”

My concern was met with an explanation of the College’s policy towards protesters. The center’s leadership, and the two Bard College deans attending the conference, seemed to have no particular plan to handle what was fixing to become an ugly disruption of Jews trying to discuss anti-Semitism. [Roger Berkowitz, the founder and director of Bard College’s Hannah Arendt Center] told us that there would be added security, but the security officers were not allowed to remove the students.

As the protesters started to gather in the lobby, I approached them. I told them that I respected their passion and commitment to what they thought was right, but asked why they had picked this panel.

“Come to my panel tomorrow,” I said. “Come protest my comments on Zionism. I’ll be talking about the occupation. Bring your signs.”

I told them I’d reserve the first and second audience-questions for members of their group, but that protesting the all-Jewish anti-Semitism panel was undercutting their work.

“Don’t you see that?” I asked. Didn’t they see that protesting Jews over Israel when they are not even talking about Israel is racist? Didn’t they understand that saying we were responsible for the behavior of the Israeli Jews just because we shared their ethnicity was racist? That making every conversation with Jews about Israel is racist?”

“The conversation about anti-Semitism is already inherently about Israel,” one of the students archly explained, repeating a deeply anti-Semitic trope that has been voiced across the spectrum from David Duke to Louis Farrakhan to Jeremy Corbyn’s supporters. Right-wing anti-Semites see any accusation of anti-Semitism as a Jewish conspiracy to take away the rights of whites, while left-wing anti-Semites sees the same accusation as an attempt to silence Palestinians.

Apparently, so do some Bard students.

...When the protesters proceeded to interrupt Wisse, they were applauded by several of our fellow conference speakers in the audience. These vaunted intellectuals, flown in from across the country to discuss racism, were commending a display of racism against Jews.

This was much more horrifying than the students’ chanting and leafletting, which failed to stop the indomitable Wisse from having her say, defining anti-Semitism as any political organizing against Jews (I have been told since that two students were removed, something I didn’t see from the stage, but the rest stayed). Not one of our fellow conference speakers got up and exercised their free speech rights to call the protest what it was. Not one came over to us after to express shock and horror that three Jews would be denounced for Israel’s actions while attempting to discuss anti-Semitism in America.

...But not one of my fellow speakers said a word. Two days later, I have not received a single note acknowledging what happened, which leaves me thinking they condone it.

And some were explicit about it. At a party for conference speakers at Berkowitz’s house right after the panel, Etienne Balibar, a French philosopher currently teaching at Columbia University, told me he thought the protest was wonderful.

“Why are you silencing Palestinians?” he demanded. “There should have been a Palestinian discussing anti-Semitism. They have many thoughts about it!”

I left the party. How could I drink with people like that? And back at my hotel, I realized that it would be pointless to participate in Friday’s program. There is no debate possible when people think anti-Semitism is not only acceptable, but commendable.

So when I was introduced the next morning, I pulled out a new set of remarks. I directly addressed these academics and writers and intellectuals who were brought to Bard to speak about how to fight racism and anti-Semitism. I told them I was appalled that not one of them had called out this blatantly racist act, the way they surely would have if it had been three Muslims on the dais, or three black speakers — or at least, the way I would have in that scenario.

“I’m horrified by your cowardice. By your self-justifications,” I read from the new set of remarks I had written the night before. “You, who I called luminaries! Whose books I’ve read! There’s nothing more I want to say to you or hear from you.

“The next time someone says, ‘What have you done to help Jews as anti-Semitism has spiked across the nation, as Jews have been murdered at their place of worship and Orthodox Jews get beaten to a pulp day after day in Brooklyn,’ you can say, ‘I sat idly by as Jews were protested for trying to talk about anti-Semitism. I allowed a Jewish woman to be held accountable — because of her ethnicity — for the actions of a country halfway around the world where she can’t even vote. I egged the protest on, in fact. And then I went to a party.’”

There is no debate possible when people think that your very humanity is up for debate, something my fellow conference goers no doubt accept as obviously true when it comes to anti-Black racism or anti-Muslim racism. And yet somehow, when it comes to anti-Jewish racism — holding one Jew accountable for the actions of another simply because they are Jewish — no one bats an eye.

No doubt the intelligentsia at the conference proceeded to debate whether Jews are a valid target of protest in my absence (Berkowitz did ask me to stay, as did a few members of the audience when I walked off the stage). No doubt others will continue to debate the question, too; perhaps they will argue that Zionists are a valid target, even when they are discussing issues that aren’t related to Israel.

Yet polls show that more than 95% of Jews in America have a favorable view of Israel. The debate over whether Zionists are human and deserving of human treatment will have to be held in the absence of Jews of conscience. In 2019, no Jew should be forced to debate their humanity, their right to exist independent of anti-Semitism.

...But as I know all too well, the most important factor in hosting the full gamut of legitimate opinion is knowing where the red lines are. And if you think allowing Jews to be protested for being Jews does not represent a red line, I have nothing more to say to you, and nothing I want to hear.

As I was getting my suitcase to leave the Bard campus on Friday morning, a student approached me. He had followed me out of the auditorium after I made my speech and left the stage. He had a big smile on his face.

“That was great,” he said. “I was at the panel last night and I didn’t really understand what was happening. I’ve never really understood what anti-Semitism is. But your remarks just now — they made it so clear.

“I get it now!” he said, his young face awash in the jubilance that intellectually curious people feel when a puzzle is solved.

I was filled with surprise and gratitude. I had convinced one person.

[Read Batya Ungar-Sargon’s full post at The Forward]

[whatzaoverwatch]

The Reaper of the Opera Chapter 1: The Opera House

Oh no it’s finally happening. Can’t stop me now from doing this long time wish of the Overwatch Phantom of the Opera crossover AU. Please enjoy the madness.

Next

Present Day

The abandoned opera house lingered of dread and mystery. Dust covering every inch of the place, no trace of life anywhere to be seen. That is until a group of the wealthy standards began waltzing in. Opening the aged door with great force. Guided by an omnic of red eyes, he lead them into the theatre quietly.  Dressed in a black suit to present his class; giving him a polished look in comparison to his surroundings. Stepping upon the tattered stage floor, the creaks and old wood echoing the vacant space. Various articles of clothing and antiques were on display, covered in rags to prevent any dirt from touching the surface.

“Please take your places ladies and gentlemen,” The omnic informed his guests, their footsteps heard from behind. Various sneezes and murmurs filling the air. Taking his place upon a mahogany podium as he rose his voice to gain their attention, “Do make some space for everyone. Spread out if you must, I do not wish to be here all day.”

Everyone gathered closer to their places. From the elderly to the youth they arrived. Taking in the sights and musty air. Some grimacing at the display, while others take in the broken chairs and the burnt curtains. A door closes shut behind by two men in similar suits to the omnic.

“That is everyone Maximilian.” They informed the omnic before them. Max looked to the crowd seeing everyone present and accounted for.

“Very small crowd…although I hardly expected an audience at all,” he critiqued, fixing his tie before drawing his attention to the small audience, “First and foremost, I would like to thank you all for coming to the auction this evening. Tonight, we may present you with many of the salvaged items that belonged to the Overwatch Opera Company. I can assure you that aside from its worn out appearance, we are pleased to honour it’s history by its salvaged treasures.”

None of the guests truly had any care, looking rather bored and uninterested in his speech. The back of his mind wondered if it truly was worth the money spent to make this possible. Gesturing to his men, the two bring over a covered item to set in the middle of the group.

“Let’s begin with our first item of the auction,” The men pulled away the cloth to reveal an old looking box. Carved and engraved with paint chipping the edges. Receiving a fair number of giggles and scowls from the sight, “Here we have what you believe is an ordinary box. However, when you open its casing, you will be amazed.”

One of the men slowly opened its casing to present a music box, with one little monkey figure playing the cymbals. A gentle and quiet tune echoing the theatre. The lullaby withered away the doubt of its value. The patrons listened in wonder at the music box. If Max could smile, he would be doing so from their change of demeanor.

“We shall begin the bidding at 50.”

Various hand raises commenced, the price raising higher with each call. 70 to 85, reaching up to a mere 120 by an older woman. The bidders thinning out, leaving the older lass to be the victor.

“Going once, going twice…sold to the lady in the front,” He gestured to the older woman. Watching her frail face beam with delight at the music box, “All payments will be required before departure. Now onto the next item for bid.”

Throughout the hour, each item was proceeding to sell off. From old tattered costumes, to various props from previous productions. Although the profits were selling lower than Max anticipated, he had one more item to reveal. A finale worth this tiring event.

“And now for our final item of the evening. Gentlemen.” He beckoned his audience to turn around and face where a crowd would once sat long ago.

The men proceeding to their places as rehearsed, grabbing the chains on either side and pulling them firmly. Lowering before them is a cloaked chandelier that enveloped nearly the entire ceiling. Patrons backed away swiftly while Max looked upon them in amusement.

“Here before you is the very chandelier that has hung in the Overwatch Opera Company for decades. Lighting what once was a beautiful theatre to all its magnificent performances. Unfortunately, just mere moments before the infamous fire took place, the chandelier was struck down and collapsed before everyone. Some say it was a broken chain, or perhaps a lazy backstage hand. But allow me to reveal to you people the truth: The chandelier was struck down by a spirit.”

“A spirit?” One person sneered in doubt, turning to Max in disbelief of his tale, “You’re saying some ghost decided to take down that big thing?”

“I understand your doubts, believe me I do. However, what I speak of is no tall tale. You see, this Opera Company had its glory. But within it was a rather dark secret. A monster of anger and vengeance far beyond ones imagination. I believe they had called him: The Reaper of the Opera.”

Dead silence filled the air as a sense of misery came upon the crowd. Some even swore they heard an organ playing within the distance. The air grew cold from the very mention of that name. The doubter still fixing their gaze upon Max as he proceeded.

“Let’s begin the bidding shall we?”

-

Ten Years Ago

“Ah my friend, why must you be so glum? It is a glorious day!” The booming voice of a larger man encouraged his shorter companion beside him.

His hair white and slicked back to show a scar over his one eye. A beard as jolly as his voice. His smile as bright as his heart as he strode with pride. Walking down the cobblestone path, passing pedestrians and vehicles on the side of the road. The man he spoke to was very much shorter than him. A yellow beard plastered on his scowling face. An eyepatch covering one eye as he walked in larger steps to keep up with his companion.

“What’s there to be excited about? We are just going to the theatre to meet with the manager.” The shorter one grumbled. Not surprised that the larger one gasped in shock.

“Torbjorn! This is no ordinary theatre; we are approaching the Overwatch Opera Company! The most extraordinary theatre in the world!” He boasted, gesturing the rather polished and luxurious building before them.

The building polished and carved with marble. A large stair case leading to an archway filled with glass doors. Posters and faces of the various performers of the company. One common face being a cheerful young woman with brunette hair and pink striped cheeks.

“To think that we have been hired to take over the company. It is a great honour!”

“You are lucky that Ingrid has a passion for this sort of junk,” He confessed, looking up at the building. Unable to hide the impressed look he had on how lavish the building looked. That amusement completely subsided by his companions knowing look, “Don’t give me that look Reinhardt…”

“Admit it, you are just as thrilled as I. Even passed that grumpy facade. Come my friend,” He beckons the bearded man towards the entrance, “The company awaits!”

Torbjorn merely groaned at Reinhardts passion as they headed to the front door. Making their way up the steps, preparing to open the large antique doors. Before they could enter, a rough voice cut their actions.

“The theatre isn’t open to visitors right now.” The two men looked to the side to see an older man leaning against the wall.

Hair completely white and receding, showing off two rather alarming scars on the mans face. A complete opposite to the blue eyes that gazed upon them. The man in a long blue coat, black trousers & black boots, taking in the cloudy morning air. His scowl just as equal to Torbjorn if not more exhausted. The two men exchanged glances from the strangers comment.

“Ah, we have some business with the manager of the company. A mister Jack Morrison if you will.” Reinhardt informed, having the man leer in his direction.

“Well, you’re unfortunately looking at him,” The man reluctantly introduced himself with his arms crossed, “What do you want?”

“Oh! It is such an honor to meet you Mr. Morrison! I have been a huge fan of the Companys work fo-“ Reinhardt began to express with great enthusiasm. Jack’s patience grew thin, evident as he turned for the door.

“If you are only here to praise then save it for the presses. I don’t have time for that crap anymore.” He grumbled.

“Forgive my rather obnoxious friend here,” Torbjorn interrupted, receiving a rather insulted ‘hey’ by Reinhardt, “My name is Torbjorn Lindholm and that is Reinhardt Wilhelm. We are the new managers for the Opera Company. I believe you called to meet with us.”

Jack turned himself around to observe. A stone-cold look plastered on his face. Releasing the tension by opening the doors.

“Fine, come in.” He grunts, heading inside while the two men follow suit.

Inside held two spiral staircases leading up to various doors and potted plants. More posters from the outside were displayed in frames. A miniature chandelier lighting the entire room. A ticket booth found on the side, enclosed with a sold-out sign while the other way lead towards some backstage hallways.

“We can speak more of the details in my office. Just some paperwork and guidelines we have to go over.” Jack explained heading towards the hallways.

The two men followed suit, only for the sound of an operatic note being heard from the other side of the doors. Reinhardt held his companion in place while he listened in wonder.

“Do you hear that? It is the sound of passion and power!” Reinhardt gasped, halting Jack in his steps.

“They are just rehearsing; they have a show tonight. Just leave them to their business.” He dismissed, leaving Reinhardt to feel a little broken.

“But we must see their progress!” Reinhardt demanded, feeling Torbjorn pull away from his friend.

“Come on Reinhardt, we can see their performance tonight.” He stated, only to receive a rather stubborn look.

“But we should introduce ourselves! It’d be in good manager spirit if we tell them to break a leg!” He reminded, only to receive rather uneasy looks from the old men. Shrinking back with a shrug, “It’s a theatre figure of speech…”

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose before shrugging, “Alright, we can take a quick look. Have to break the news to them anyhow.” Before the two could question that statement, Jack lead them up the stairs and into the grand theatre.

Inside was rows of red velvet seats all in a formal U-shaped curve. Boxes pampered in curtains and gold that hung against the walls of the theatre. Brightening the entire theatre was a glamourous chandelier that sparkled against the tapestry. Painted mosaics covered the ceiling. Columns separating each sets of rows, leading towards the stage at the very end. A scene was being played out of the upcoming performance. A forest themed background was lit against a set of dancers. All graceful and synchronized to the music being played by the man by the piano. Before them was a young woman moving around the stage. Brown eyes filled with determination as she sung to the empty seats. The two men were left in awe until the woman completely halted her actions.

“Stop stop STOP!” She barked towards the pianist. The dreadlock haired man looking to the woman rather exhausted by her abrupt halt. Clearly showing that this was not the first time this happened today. She approached the man with a glare, “You are going way too fast on my part. How many times to I have to tell you to go slower?”

“Here we go…” A grumble from Jack could be heard behind Reinhardt and Torbjorn as they listened in.

“I told you that is how the piece works. You are supposed to be in a faster tempo!” He exclaimed, grabbing the music sheets to show to the woman. As much as he protested, the woman was having none of it.

“The show will not be perfect if it doesn’t go my way! My way is having my parts be slow!” She pouted looking at him, “Lucio you are making me work too much...”

The argument was interrupted by the sound of a cane hitting the floor. All the attention turning towards an older woman with silver hair. Braided and covered in a hijab.  A tattoo under her one eye as the other was covered in a black eyepatch. Her dark skin hidden in her black and blue attire. Her presence giving an authoritative stature to everyone around her.

“That is enough Hana,” The woman spoke to the brunette. Making her turn around to the older woman. The dancers standing by her side, upright but exhausted, “As much as you desire for more presence on the stage, changing the direction of the original music will overthrow my dancers.”

“I believe she is correct my dear!” Reinhardt chimed in, gaining the attention of the rest of the group. Hana rather displeased by the unfamiliar input.

“And who are you?” She demanded. Reinhardt, quickly making his way on the stage. Much to Torbjorns protests, Reinhardt greeted the young woman with a grin.

“I am simply a man with passion for the theatre. I am also aware that you are none other than the great Hana Song! The songstress of many awards and fans, including myself,” His charm and ego brushing was not to be desired by those around him. However, the flattery was already working, evident to Hanas charmed smile, “A show must be memorable and driven with emotions to let the audience leave with satisfaction! Even in a higher tempo, you may work wonders! Grasp every beat like a lover and sing your heart to the world.”

“Oh brother…” Torbjorn groaned. Jack’s attention was drawn to the older woman. Seeing her hardened stare before intruding.

“Let everyone take five, we will take it from the beginning of Act 2,” She announces, having the other stage members relax with a few more stretches. The dancers free from their poised manners until the old woman turned towards them, “Each of you needs to polish their work. Lena, more grace. Amelie, let your motions become fluent. Fareeha, keep on your toes. [Name], your eyes must look ahead and not in the clouds.”

The women nodding to their critiques as they make haste in their work. Leaving them to their notes before approaching Jack and Torbjorn. Amused by the new faces first impressions.

“I thought we had an agreement to no early visitors Jack.” She teased, having Jack shrug nonchalantly with a sigh.

“There is a reason that I bent our rules a little,” He gestured to the two men, having Reinhardt pull away from praising Hana, “This here is Torbjorn Lindholm and Reinhardt Wilhelm.”

“And who may this lovely woman be?” Reinhardt asked politely, taking the hand of the woman with endearment. She hummed at the loving look of the larger one with a smile.

“This here is Ana Amari, she is the dancing instructor to our company.” Jack introduced receiving an amused hum from the woman.

“All these years and all you have to title me as is dancing instructor?” She teased Jack, having him mumble an apology, “Well that’s all I am nowadays.”

“I think not my dear, I see a fire within you that can bring a thousand men to their knees.” Reinhardt complimented, making Torbjorn rightfully intervene.

“Will you give the woman some space? No need for you to woo everyone you meet.” Torbjorn warned, seeing the love struck daze Reinhardt had on Ana. Jack couldn’t help but snort.

“You might want to ease up on her. Although she is divorced, she is not that open for a replacement at the moment.” He muttered to the two men, his words hushed by Anas knowing gaze.

“I see that you two are exceptionally charming. Are you the new stagehands? Our current one could use the assistance.”

“Not quite…” Jack muttered before taking himself to the stage to draw attention to the performers, “Might as well announce this while we are here: These men right here are my replacements. They will oversee the opera company from now on.”

The group were soon in disarray of the news as even Ana was taken back. Murmurs and gasps filled the stage at the retirement. The two men approached while Jack placed a hand on Reinhardts back.

“Although I had my doubts, I can be certain that these two will continue to uphold the Opera houses reputation. Please take them in as one of your own as you have done with me. I apologize for the short notice, but I do wish all of you the best of luck…or break a leg rather.”

The group left to chatter about the sudden news, only for Ana to tug at Jacks arm.

“Jack, a word?” She muttered, taking him to the side. He was already uneasy as he rose his hands.

“Look, I know I should’ve told you this earlier, but I had my reasons.” He assured the doubting young woman.

“Are you certain that those two can handle this?” She questioned, the two men began introduced themselves to some of the members.

“Well to be honest, not entirely. But I know I can also trust you.” He places a hand on her shoulder with a small smirk. Unable to diminish Anas disbelief as she held him still.

“And have you told the new managers about their…specific instructions?” Jack left frozen in his place, as it was evident that they hadn’t a clue. Rummaging in his jacket as he pulled out an envelope.

“I was instructed to give them this, but I’d rather let you give it to them. It seems he already knew before I had a say,” He hands over the note, stepping away with an apologetic look, “Forgive me, I can no longer follow his instructions anymore.”

“Jack…”

Suddenly, cold shift in the air was felt, the lights flickering causing the members to stiffen in their place. Torbjorn and Reinhardt left puzzled, looking about as they could’ve sworn they heard whispers from the walls. A now spooked Reinhardt is left judged by Torbjorn. Ana stared up at the ceiling, a hand firm on her cane at the tension. Returning her attention to now the empty space before her. Just like that, Jack was gone before her eyes. Taken back a bit as she held the note, looking at the red skull in the wax stamp on the envelope.

“It’s probably the damn wind, you big lug.” Torbjorn grumbled at the paranoia.

“No it isn’t! It’s the Reaper of the Opera.” Lena chimed in, only to be hushed by her fellow dancers.

“The Reaper??” Reinhardt spoke confused towards the young womans’ proclamation. His nerves calmed as Ana approached the two of them. Torbjorn looked behind the woman to suddenly find Jack gone.

“Hey, where did Mr. Morrison go?” He questioned, only to be handed the note.

“He had to take his leave, however he told me to bring you this.” She informed, stepping away to let them read.

“A fond greeting to the new managers. I congratulate you on this highest honor. Just as Mr. Morrison has endured, I have provided a set of instructions that must be kept,” Torbjorn read, as Reinhardt followed along, “For every performance that the Opera Company holds, Box 5 should never be occupied whatsoever. I also expect my monthly wages to be paid on schedule and at the select location. Should my instructions be left abandoned, I vow that much dismay will befall the company. From your most generous patron – R. Now wait a damn moment, what’s all of this for??”

“It is your instructions as the new managers, you must follow these regulations.” Ana informed holding onto her can tightly. Torbjorn left unimpressed as he approaches.

“Now listen here, I won’t be casting aside any money to some stranger! I have my own wife and kids to feed at home,” He tosses the letter to Reinhardt with a grunt, “If some prankster wants to demand money, they oughta just show themselves right now!”

As cursed as Torbjorns words be, a spark and flicker of the lights was seen. Causing a disarray within the performers. In one swift movement, a weight bag from above landed towards a no expecting Hana as she fell to the floor in pain. Letting out a cry as she was struck to the ground with the weight on her leg.

“Hana!” Lucio cried out as the group huddled to see the damage. Unaware of the shadows that wandered above them.

To be continued

[melodyalanaroster]

Graduation Day

“Wakey! Wakey! Eggs and bakey!” Agatha called as she knocked on the bedroom door. In the few weeks since Nathaniel and Amber had home from Weathering, Death’s Domain had become quite lively. Nathaniel moved in, Alana finally introduced him to Viktor and Severina, the Roster Family crowded the Black Tower, and everyone began to prepare for Alana’s graduation.

What Agatha didn’t quite know was that the two masters of Death’s Domain were already awake and finishing up a rather long, hot, shower. “Lady Melody, Lord Nathaniel, Miss Agatha is at the bedroom door. Breakfast is ready.” JARVIS announced. Nathaniel turned the water off, wrapped Alana in a towel and sat her down on the seat. “Tell them we’ll be down in a few minutes.” He called as he grabbed his towel. “Yes sir.” the A.I. replied. Alana giggled as she caught her breath. “Your family has become crazier than usual over this.” Nathaniel chuckled as he sat down next to her. “Well, you know why.” She smiled. “Yeah, I know.” He kissed her head and held her close. They held each other for a little while before JARVIS reminded them that breakfast was on the table again. “Alright! Alright! We’re coming!” Alana called, annoyed.

“It’s about time you two came to eat!” Agatha called as they descended the stairs. Agatha, Lynne and Nate were bustling around the kitchen. Sam and Ken were sitting in the living room playing video games. Sam shot Alana a look. “Someone got shower sex.” She snickered. “Good girl.” Lynne smiled. Nathaniel began to blush and act nervous. “Honey, you knew this was going to happen.” Alana laughed as she went into the kitchen, filled her plate with food, grabbed a bottle of coffee from the fridge and sat down at the dining room table. “I’ve just got to get used to it.” Nathaniel sighed as he walked into the kitchen to fill his plate. “It’ll be alright, Son.” Lynne smiled as she patted him on the back. “Don’t worry kid, it’ll come naturally.” Nate chuckled. Nathaniel took his plate and joined Alana. “Who all is going to be there?” He asked. “Let’s see... Mom, Nate, Agatha, Sam, Ken, Viktor and Severina will all be at the graduation ceremony. Then us kids are going to the Crowstorm concert tonight... Then the parties will start. The entire tower is going to celebrate tonight, but you and I will be joining our family and friends at the house in Weathering tomorrow. Seraphina has promised to put a muzzle on Kai so that he won’t be a disruption.” She explained. “Speaking of that Crowstorm concert, isn’t it strictly for Anteros students?” Ken asked as he set the controller down and walked into the kitchen. “Yeah, but, do you really think the bouncer is gonna argue with anyone who is with me?” Alana replied. “No one in their right mind would argue with you.” Sam laughed. “Why do we have to go to that thing?” Nathaniel asked. “Because, despite how much he’s annoyed me this year, Castiel is still my friend and I want to support him. Not to mention how I haven’t really done many “college kid” things this year... So, it’s something different.” Alana stated.

A couple of hours later, Alana descended the stairs wearing a formal outfit. “Where is everyone?” She asked when she noticed the boys weren’t in the living room. “I sent them to the lobby to meet up with Viktor.” Lynne replied. “Why?” Alana asked. “Because I want us girls to have some time before you cross the stage, so I’m going to do your hair.” Lynne stated. “Alright then.” Alana smiled as she sat down in front of her mother. Sam, Agatha and Severina gathered around them. “I can’t believe our Melody is graduating college!” Agatha cheered. “I can’t believe you can finally stop being “The Grim Reaper” after this.” Sam beamed. “I can’t believe it took this long for us all to finally be together.” Severina smiled. “I technically won’t stop being “The Grim Reaper”. I’m just splintering away from the rest of the Senior Staff until it’s necessary for me to return.” Alana sighed. “But you’ll officially be referred to as “Agent Thunderbird” according to the Military.” Sam replied. “Yup. And if I’m called back to action, I’ll go back to being “Death Herself” and whatnot.” Alana clarified. “But you’ll still be free to do as you please until then.” Severina added. “YUP! And I can’t fucking wait!” Alana cheered.

“We’ll see ya’ll at the end of the ceremony.” Lynne beamed as she took everyone to their seats. Nathaniel and Alana joined Amber, Chani, Castiel and Priya. They greeted each other then turned to the stage. The Director and several professors were on the stage. Miss Paltry made her way to the podium. “Hello and welcome all! I’d like to thank the Director for allowing me to make the commencement address. It’s a great honor for me to preside over this important day. I’d like to tell you about a project that’s especially important to me. This year, for the first time, we experimented with running self help classes. We didn’t know if they were going to work. We didn’t know what they were going to be like. And they ended up being a huge success. I’d like to thank you for being so committed to the project. Opening the dialogue is always a good idea. Having an open mind and debating with goodwill. That’s what we did and learned this year. That’s what makes you individuals capable of thinking, communicating, and acting in harmony with your values. We intend on continuing the program next year, and without your commitment, that wouldn’t have been possible. So, thanks to you all!” Her cheery voice boomed throughout the park. Everyone applauded and students began to cheer. Alana held Nathaniel’s hand and rested her head on his shoulder as Miss Paltry began to speak again. She thought of what she had gone through to get to this point. Every drop of blood, every time she screamed, every molecule of pain... It was all worth it just to be able to live freely with her love. Her ears perked up when Miss Paltry mentioned the Valedictorian. Several people looked at Alana. “Are they assuming it’s you?” Nathaniel quietly asked her. “It was offered to me... Simply because of my position. I told them that I didn’t want the attention and to give the honor to someone who truly deserves it.” She answered. Alana looked around her group of friends, noticed an empty seat and grinned. “She definitely deserves the honor.” She thought. “I’ll hand the mike over to her, to a round of applause, since she has the highest GPA, all majors combined. Priya Ba...” Miss Paltry began. “WOOO! GO PRIYA!” Sam’s cheering rang out through the park. Everyone looked in Sam’s direction. She was standing up and grinning ear to ear. “H-Hello.” Priya nervously spoke when she got to the podium. As Priya began her speech, Alana’s mind drifted to her friends. Priya was one of the ones who stood by her... Not always approving of her actions... But taking her choices in strides. Castiel had made it clear that he still had feelings for her, and it took a lot of effort, but he finally realized that he would have to be happy being her friend. It did hurt her to cut Alexy and Rosalaya off. It angered her to see what they had become; to know that they would never come to terms with what she had become. Priya began to speak of becoming an adult and the evolution of growing up. “She’s right.” Alana thought. Her mind then drifted to her own evolution. She started out as “Lynne Roster’s Sweet, Obedient, Responsible, Daughter”, a young woman who should be pitied, always doing the “right thing”. Then she became “The Grim Reaper” and “The Patron Saint Of Lost Children”, a force of nature that should not be trifled with. And here she was, evolving into something closer to what she truly wanted to be. She had been holding on for dear life to what she knew was her purest form all while struggling towards the light that was her desired future. “I was preparing for my future here, but above all, I was having an incredible human experience.” Priya’s voice resonated with the crowd, most everyone was hanging on to her every word. “I grew up, I cried, I learned, I had doubts, I got angry, I felt hatred and I felt passion here. It’s more than an education, it’s a university of life. Anyway, thanks for having been part of the experience. By virtue of our convictions and our interactions, we help change attitudes. And over the past five years, I’m thrilled to have been part of this community that puts tolerance at the heart of this debate.” As Priya concluded her speech, the park erupted in applause and cheers. The cheering didn’t stop until she reached her seat. 

The Director stood up and walked to the podium. “Congratulations Priya, thanks again. The big time you’ve all been waiting for has finally come. We’re going to hand out the diplomas now.” He announced as he explained the order of the events to come. The Director began calling out people’s names and students began getting their diplomas. Chani crossed the stage, got her diploma and rejoined them. When Alexy’s and Rosalaya’s names got called, Alana remained silent. She turned in the direction of her family and noticed her mom giving a silent clap while Sam and Ken remained silent and motionless. Priya crossed the stage, got her diploma and rejoined them. Several minutes later Castiel’s name got called. The park erupted in girls’ screams as he crossed the stage and got his diploma. Alana put her hand on his shoulder and said how proud she was of him when he rejoined them. A few minutes later, Amber’s name got called. You could hear Alana’s family cheering loudly as she crossed the stage. “Why is your family cheering?” Priya asked. “Because, mom has claimed both Nath and Amber as her kids, so, my family is hers now.” Alana replied. Amber got her diploma and rejoined them. “NATHANIEL JACOTT” The Director called. “What?!” Alana asked. Nathaniel kissed her forehead, smiled, then walked towards the stage. Alana’s family cheered even louder. Alana watched as Nathaniel shook the Director’s hand, got his diploma and began walking towards them. Cheers could be heard from several of the rooftops. “I guess the Executioners and Crown Jewels are cheering for him as well.” Castiel commented. “Yeah, of course they are.” Alana grinned.  When Nathaniel rejoined them, Alana jumped into his arms. “I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” She cheered. “I knew you were working on something involving the school... I just wasn’t sure what!” she continued. Nathaniel held Alana closely for a minute before letting go. “H-how...?! Why is?!” Amber asked. “Surprise!” Nathaniel cheered. Amber turned to Alana. “What do you mean you knew he was working on something?!” She asked. “Well! He was constantly on his computer and running around Anteros! I knew he was concerned about graduating... I just didn’t know it would turn out like this!” Alana beamed. “I didn’t even tell you!” Nathaniel looked baffled at Alana. “Sweetie... You may love detective novels, but I am a strategist. You could say... It was elementary my dear!” Alana beamed. Nathaniel burst out laughing. “You are definitely no Sherlock Holmes!” He mused. “But, I was right that you were working on something towards your degree.” Alana beamed. “Yes, you were right.” Nathaniel laughed. “But how? You didn’t study! You never went to class!” Amber asked. “I got my coursework via the internet the whole time... I thought the literature courses were very captivating by the way... so I read them at night before falling asleep. My grades aren’t outstanding... I barely passed.” He explained. “Still! You made it! And you deserve every ounce of praise!” Alana cheered. “Thanks. Sure, I could never have gotten motivated without my little sister who spent the whole year insisting on me coming to class.” He beamed. “I knew I was right.” Amber smiled as she hugged her brother. “Way to go. I’m so proud of you.” She continued. Alana knew Francis and Adelaide weren’t present. “They still have my family.” She thought. “Way to go, both of you.” She smiled. “When are they going to call your name?” Amber asked. “Probably not until closer to the end. Your last name starts with a “J” so you got it over with a lot sooner than me.” Alana replied.

After what felt like forever, Alana’s time came. “MELODY ALANA ROSTER” The Director called. The park erupted in applause and cheers as she made her way to the stage. Cheers could be heard from the rooftops. “MELODY! MELODY! MELODY!” They called. She got to the Director and shook his hand. “Congratulations Miss Roster. You’ve earned it.” He beamed. “Thank you sir... For putting up with me this past year.” She grinned. “It was an honor. I should really thank you. We assumed that your presence would make Anteros a depressing place.... But you didn’t. In fact, you lightened the mood, and helped improve students’ lives. I still haven’t gotten over that gala you helped organize. It was a wonderful evening.” The smile on the Director’s face grew warmer as he spoke. “Way to go Miss.” Miss Paltry smiled. Alana thanked them both then looked at the crowd. The rest of the professors were sitting in the first few rows. Rayan waved at her and winked. She responded with a smile. She looked towards her family. Everyone was standing, clapping and cheering. Sam had even begun to whistle. She returned to Nathaniel and Amber. “Congratulations!” Nathaniel smiled as he hugged her. “You’ve earned it!” Amber grinned. “Thank you so much!” Alana quickly hugged Amber. “What was that for?! You never hug me!” Amber looked at her, slightly shocked. “I know... But, this is a special occasion.” Alana smiled. Nathaniel looked at them, shocked, then smiled and hugged both of them. “I love you both.”

After hugging and cheering with friends for a while, Alana and Nathaniel decided to return to her family. “You’re not gonna come with us?” Alana asked. “Nah. I’m gonna go hang out with Castiel. His parents actually came and I’m pretty sure he needs a good excuse to get away from them.” Amber replied. “Well, remember, you are invited to all the parties that are being thrown.” Alana sighed. “Thanks.” Amber smiled. As they walked over to their group, Alana caught a glimpse of Alexy and Rosalaya staring at her. Alexy shot her a meak smile and Rosalaya waved. Her eyes became cold for a minute before she turned back to Nathaniel and resumed smiling. Nathaniel turned his head in the direction Alana was staring and noticed the two sober looking graduates. “Are they still causing you trouble?” He asked her. She shook her head. “No, they’re not. They’re just kinda eating away at the back of my brain.” She sighed. “It’s alright. If you still think they’re not worth your time, then it’s okay to not pay them any attention.” He reassured as they walked up to her family. “CONGRATS MY SWEET LITTLE BABY!” Lynne cheered as she squeezed Alana tightly. “Mom, I know you’re happy... But I’m not a baby anymore.” Alana choked as she attempted to release herself from her mother’s embrace. “Nonsense! You’ll always be my baby!” Lynne beamed. Nate, Sam, Ken, Viktor, Severina and Agatha all began to congratulate her and Nathaniel. “I thought you said you probably weren’t gonna graduate.” Sam commented as she turned to Nathaniel. “I worked hard and finished out.” He replied.

A while later, the Roster family was sitting at the cafe, enjoying snacks and talking. “Mom, I love you, but I think you got my ponytail too tight.” Alana sighed as she took her hair down. Verity Mekina walked through the door and greeted the group. “Melody! I’m so proud of you!” She beamed as she hugged Alana. “Aunt Verity! I’m so glad you could come!” Alana smiled. Verity turned to Nathaniel. “And you must be the infamous Nathaniel! Mels has told me so much about you! It’s a pleasure to finally meet the man who has stolen my god-daughter’s heart!” Nathaniel blushed. “I hope it was all good.” He smiled, nervously. “I assure you, it was all positive. Welcome to the family!” Verity brought Nathaniel in for a hug. “And congratulations on graduating!” She beamed as she sat down. “So? Is Crowstorm really going to perform a private concert at the big party in Weathering?” Severina asked. “Yeah. Castiel offered to do it while we were on our way to the house a few weeks ago.” Alana replied. “Isn’t that the new band everyone is freaking out about.” Verity asked. “Yeah, remember, Sam and I went to high school with Castiel.” Alana reminded. “He used to be a dick to Kentin, and he and Nathaniel hate each other.” Sam added. “Well, I wouldn’t say we completely hate each other now.” Nathaniel commented. “Oh, right, now you two have gone from fighting all the time to a weird, blooming, bromance. Seriously, fight each other, or fuck each other... Just get it out of your system already.” Sam laughed. Nathaniel’s face turned red. “It’s not a bromance!” He clenched his teeth. “Mels! Come on! You know it would be interesting if they fucked. Especially if you were in the middle of it!” Sam continued. Alana facepalmed. “Really? Are you trying to get him riled up?” She asked. “So? Nathaniel, what are you thinking about doing? Career wise?” Verity asked, nervously. “I’m not really sure just yet. I love literature, but I also love police work. I figured that I’d decide on my career while Alana and I are out traveling.” Nathaniel replied. “Police work? Would your position in the R.D.R even allow that?” Viktor asked. “I’m sure I can make it work. We’d have to talk to the prime minister, mayor, red death, and police chief... But, first and foremost, we’ve got a world to travel.” Alana explained. “Well, I think it’s noble.” Verity commented. “Thank you.” Nathaniel smiled. “So, where are you two thinking about going first?” Severina asked. “I wouldn’t mind going back to London.” Nathaniel grinned. “Back to the Shard.” Alana giggled. “Okay, what happened in London?” Viktor asked, annoyed. Sam, Severina, Lynne and Agatha began to laugh. “Go on Mels. Tell that story.” Nate laughed, embarrassed. “Alright, alright. So, after Nathaniel and I got done hanging out with the cast of Doctor Who at the red carpet premier of the 50th Anniversary Special, we got a little frisky... Apparently, our passion was so loud that the hotel manager felt the need to come to our room and demand we keep it down, or else risk getting kicked out of the hotel. When we opened the door, the manager immediately recognized me as Mom’s daughter and Nate’s step-daughter.... I swear, you could see the pain in his eyes from how much he was holding back laughter. After that, our passions were a lot quieter for the duration of our stay.... But every time we saw that manager, he gave us funny looks. It’s now referred to in the family as “The London Incident”.” Alana explained. Viktor’s and Verity’s eyes widened. Nathaniel blushed. Lynne, Sam and Agatha began to laugh harder. “I swear, that was definitely a bright point in that period of time!” Lynne laughed. A wave of envy washed over Viktor. Alana shot him a sharp look. Viktor looked down. “I don’t regret it. That was amazing.” Alana commented. “Yeah, it was.” Nathaniel looked at her, lovingly and stroked her hair. “I think it’s romantic. They were apart for months at that time and I’m sure they both needed it. Besides, what’s better than making love in a foreign land?” Verity smiled. “I can definitely vouch for that.” Lynne sighed as she looked at Nate. 

Several hours later, the kids were waiting to get in to the Snake Room. “This is gonna be great!” Severina cheered. “Are you really sure this is okay?” Viktor asked. “Don’t worry. After the bouncer hassled me the last time I was here for a Crowstorm event, the owner was so embarrassed that they’ve begun to grovel at my feet for my forgiveness.” Alana explained. “Did you ever deal with Crowstorm’s manager after they had you sit with all those whores?” Sam asked. “Yep. I threatened to find someone much more suitable for the band and slander his name throughout the business. He has become much more cooperative since then.” Alana replied. “Does Castiel know you did that?” Nathaniel asked. “It’s best if he doesn’t know. As it is, I don’t act on my threats unless I’m forced to.” Alana shrugged. As they got in to the club, everyone turned their eyes to them. “Hey everyone.” Alana smiled as she began walking towards the stage. People began to make a path and let the group through. The crowd of people began to wait for the band to take the stage. “Its a shame we can’t get the old band back together. It would be nice to see Castiel, Nathaniel and Lysander up there.” Sam commented. “It wouldn’t work anyway. You know Castiel and I can’t work together like that for very long.” Nathaniel smirked. “But, it would be really nice to see what Crowstorm was supposed to be...” Alana sighed.

As Crowstorm took the stage, Castiel smiled at the group of friends. The girls smiled and waved. Castiel looked at the rest of the crowd and grinned. “You know who we are.” He winked as the band began to play the opening notes to their song, “Do You Wanna Come Home With Me?”. The crowd’s cheers grew as the band played. “This is awesome!” Severina cheered. “And it’s only the beginning.” Alana grinned as she looked at Nathaniel, lovingly. “So, where are we gonna start?” Nathaniel asked. Alana kissed him, passionately and smiled. “First, Weathering... Then, the world.”

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I’ve been meaning to write this for months, but, due to recent events, I’ve been unable to. I wanted to feature several other people in this blurb’s image (Amber, Castiel, Priya and Alana’s Aunts (Seraphina and Agatha)... But the background was too small, so I simply featured her parents and the 6 main kids.

Credit goes to:

@candysweetposts For Lynne’s and Nate’s sprites, as well as the bases to Severina and Samantha. LicyAD on DeviantArt for Viktor’s Sprite Unnieverso on DeviantArt for Kentin’s Sprite

[imaginekpoplikethis]

Mixing it up sequel scenarios - TroubleMaker! Min Yoongi X reader - Part 1

Mixing it up is back! As scenarios which all take place after the events of the original story so to understand the context and references it would probably be better if you have read the original which I will link below. I hope you all enjoy this comeback. It’s gonna be a ride 🤩

Original Mixing it up story

Part 1 - Here

————

Standing before the very school you hated with a passion several months ago, you couldn’t help the grin that slid onto your face. Honestly, it didn’t look half as bad as you expected it to after the disaster that hit but that was to be expected since it was high on the towns priority list even before the fire. You weren’t sure why exactly but you also didn’t care to dwell on such trivial matters.

“Hey Y/N! Hellooo. Are you there? We’re gonna be late to class if you don’t stop staring mindlessly at the school and I don’t wanna have to introduce myself through the first period.”

Snapping back to reality, you linked arms with Suhyun and dragged her towards the entrance.

“Wow! It’s scary how much you’ve changed. I remember a time you would have entertained the idea of missing school for a month if it meant not having to share the same school grounds as Yoongi. Now-“ You playfully pinched her side invoking a squeal out of her.

“I know I know! You don’t have to remind me...”

A giggle escaped Suhyun at your embarrassed tone and she tugged you towards her.

“I’m just kidding around. I’d be excited too if I got to see my boyfriend everyday for at least a month.”

Exited? You were ecstatic if anything.

“What class is he in by the way?”

A small sigh escaped you.

“I have no idea, he wouldn’t say. Was probably hoping he wouldn’t jinx it and somehow have us end up in different classes.”

His hopes were high. The odds of actually ending up in his class were five to one.

Your mind drifted off at the thought of your boyfriend, Min Yoongi. It’s worth mentioning back before you had been forced to share your school with him, you would have scowled and turned to walk in the other direction at the sight of someone with mint coloured hair. That all changed after all the events that transpired throughout his stay at your school. Honestly, it was a hectic time, something that would fit more into a drama than your life but you’re happy they occurred nonetheless.

Focusing back on the present, you found yourself standing in the corridor of the lowest floor, Suhyun talking to herself about where your classes were.

“You’re in class 3-d right? I’m in 3-a so obviously we’re both heading to the third floor. Ugh, I can’t believe we’re split up. We’ve been in the same class for years now.”

Starting the trek up the stairs, you watched as she pouted in disappointment.

“Suhyun, this isn’t permanent.”

“I know but I wanted to have at least one friend in my class.”

That wouldn’t be hard. She was practically a ball of sunshine. A lot like someone else you know...

“Don’t worry you’ll be fine! Who wouldn’t want to be friends with you? You’re kind, super friendly and charismatic.”

Reaching the third floor, her class was right by the staircase and so she turned towards you.

“Hehe, you’re such a great friend. You always know what to say to cheer me up.

A cute grin spread on her face and she envelops you in a quick hug which you giddily returned.

“I’ll see you at lunchtime?” Upon your nod of approval, she turned towards the classrooms doorway.

“Great, I’ll wait for you outside your class. See you in a bit.”

After watching her enter the class, you took to walking down the somewhat busy hallway, eyes trained on the sign reading ‘3-d.’

Hoisting your bag higher on your shoulder you opened the door, the class’ home room teacher already standing at his desk, early.

“Ah, you might as well introduce yourself now. Your other class mates have already done so.”

Giving a small nervous smile, you quickly nodded and made your way to the front of the class. Shifting from foot to foot, your eyes scanned the room for any familiar faces. Sighing lightly when your eyes couldn’t detect anyone you knew, you cleared your throat and readied yourself for the possible stuttering mess of an introduction you would deliver.

The sound of the door opening halted your introductory speech, eyes snapping to the doorway only to light up at the familiar face and not so familiar hair.

“Min Yoongi! Late yet again. This must be the tenth time in two weeks.”

More importantly, he’s brunette now. Not that you were complaining.

A tired gaze fell upon the teacher and he simply rubbed at his eyes, grumbling to himself.

“What was that!?”

“Nothing sir.” Yoongi was quick to dismiss whatever he had initially said. His eyes finally landed on you and a smirk slowly spread upon his lips.

“Well well... Y/N. Nice of you to join us.” Cue the tingling sensation that usually adorned your cheeks at his lazy smirk.

“Yoongi please take your seat, you’re holding up the rest of the class.” Despite it feeling as if you both were the only ones in the room for a second, your temporary teacher was quick to snap you out of it, the growing annoyance clear in his tone. Yoongi surprisingly listened to the instructions though the smirk remained on his face, his head lowered as he made his way to his desk.

“Sorry about that. You should be able to make your introduction without any further interruptions.”

The teacher clapped a hand on your shoulder, a supportive smile being sent your way though it did nothing to ease your nervousenss, especially since an extra pair of eyes were watching you far more intently than the rest.

He was most probably waiting for you to stutter and flush red, something he would one hundred percent use as ammo to tease you later on.

———

“You should have seen the look on her face when she stuttered out her own name.”

Annoyance was a common theme whenever Yoongi decided to make fun of you. Sure, you had seen this coming, call it a premonition and name yourself Raven if you will. However, it still irked you that he felt the need to recall the moment to everyone at the lunch table.

“Well they didn’t Yoongi and they won’t ever see the “look on my face” so drop it.”

Did the words come out harsher than you intended? Yes. Did it make you seem angered by his actions? Yes.

Did Yoongi care?

That would be a big, bold-

“I just remembered... they can see. I filmed it.”

-no.

He proceeded to pull out his phone and unlock it, finding the most recent media in his camera roll. Taehyung cheered and high fived Hoseok  whilst everyone else all too eagerly leant forward to catch a glimpse of your mess of an introduction. All you could do was groan and rise from your seat.

It seemed your awkward moments were still getting filmed to this day.

“Aw, where are you going Y/N? Don’t worry you look cute!”

Leave it to Suhyun to try and cheer you up.

“I’m just going to get a drink from the vending machine. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Leaving the group to their own devices, you headed outside of the lunch room to the nearby machine. After deciding on a peach Lipton and checking the price, you reached a hand into your pocket only to groan a second time at the realisation that you left your money in your bag. As you were turning to leave an arm reached over your shoulder and put in several coins and punched in the iced teas number.

Eyes widening you spun on your heel, coming face to face with the last person you were expecting.

“Mi-Rae...”

Said girl offered you a tight smile though it resembled more of a grimace than anything. She looked significantly different from the last time you had seen her. Her hair was now short and she looked somewhat tired.

“Hey...”

There was pregnant silence where you both simply stared at one another, bad memories replaying in your minds. She eventually broke eye contact with you to reach down and grab the drink that had been dispensed. Turning it in her hands, her eyes nervously flitted back to yours. She beckoned you to move to the side to let other students use the vending machine and joined you against a wall.

“I... I never got the chance to say sorry after everything. After we fought and I was questioned by the police, I was lucky enough to end up with community service. I’m far from done with it but it’s still given me a lot of time to think. About why I acted out and how I treated you and others around me.”

The genuine guilt and sorrow held in her eyes made you feel extremely awkward. You didn’t know what to say.

“You’re a really nice person who was trying to do a good thing. While we were friends, I had fun and I’d like to believe you did too.”

Realisation dawned on her that she was beginning to babble on.

“Er- what I’m getting at is... I’m sorry. Really and truly sorry. For framing you for the pen incident, being mean and literally fighting you.”

She reached out her hand holding the tea to the side and you slowly took it, releasing a sigh.

“Mi-Rae... I wish you had just taken responsibility for your actions instead of dumping it on others. Maybe then none of that would have happened and we could have been friends without all the drama.”

You cringed at the use of the word ‘drama’. That was the understatement of the century if not millennium.

“Lord knows though wishing about things that happened in the past gets you nowhere. So I think the only thing to do is forgive but not forget.”

“Yeah... Thank you for hearing me out. You could have walked away at any time but you have me a chance. You really are kind.”

You thought back to your brawl with her. Her use of kind might have been a stretch.

“Not that much but thanks. Good luck with your community service and... I’ll see you around?”

You silently hoped you would. It would help you to keep all the bad blood in the past. Reaching out your hand for her to shake, she grasped it, this time a genuine smile gracing her lips.

“I’d like that.”

———

“Wow you took ages, I almost grew white hairs.”

Yoongis voice was the first to reach your ears and you grinned at him. A weight you didn’t know you had felt like it had been lifted.

“Yeah, I bumped into Mi-Rae.”

A scowl overtook his face and the table looked at you in shock.

“What? Did she do or say anything? Maybe she needs to be reminded what she put you through.”

Seating yourself beside Yoongi, you linked your arm with his own and calmly patted his leg.

“Don’t worry, she just apologised for everything. To be honest, it was so awkward I didn’t know what to do. We decided to move on but not forget. She seems like a totally different person.”

He scoffed at your retelling of the encounter and you pinched him in retaliation.

“If that’s what you want, fine. Her being a different person probably has something to do with the fact she’s practically an outcast now.”

You looked down at the table, sadness replacing the relief you had felt.

“That’s... kind of upsetting to hear.”

He rubbed your back to comfort you and pulled your head to lay on the side of his arm whilst Jimin interjected.

“She’s not completely alone. I see her with Yura a lot so don’t feel too bad.”

“That’s good. I’m glad she doesn’t hold anything against her.”

A silence enfolded the table, one that Hoseok was quick to interrupt.

“Anyway, we should do something after class.”

“On a Monday?”

Doing something after school on a Monday... you couldn’t think of anything worse than that idea right now.

“Yeah, there’s a crazy discount at the arcade next to the mall on Mondays. Plus they serve after school meal deals.”

A chorus of approvals rang throughout the table.

Despite this seemingly great opportunity, your bed sounded more appealing at this precise moment.

“I think I’m gonna go home instead.”

Boos were what you were greeted with and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh my gosh, okay fine.”

“Yes! The entire group is hanging out tonight! Everyone meet outside the school gates after the last bell.”

Whilst everyone agreed, Yoongi lowered his mouth to ear level and muttered into your ear.

“You were always gonna come. I would’ve made sure.”

Gosh, he was so annoying. Even more so since you know he would have definitely succeeded.

[inmyarmswrappedin]

DRUCK reactions - s4 ep1

Ages ago I said I wanted to write meta about Cris’ and Matteo’s seasons, so of course, when I finally sit down to write reactions to a Skam remake, it’s about Amira instead.

A few weeks back I was composing tumblr posts in bed before falling asleep (my number 1 hobby lol) when it struck me that the writing for Amira’s season was really… indefensibly bad. So let’s stroll down through memory lane and revisit Druck s4, or how to throw away your potential because you have to put out this season before summer is over!

CLIP 1: Dark clouds over Winterberg

Obviously I’m writing these with the benefit of hindsight, but I will try and incorporate what my initial reaction to a clip was whenever I can remember.

Sometime between the Abiball episode and episode 32, I argued (on twitter) that the Abiball special was the Abiball episode instead, the first episode of Amira’s season. It would thus introduce us to the conflicts and characters that would take place during Amira’s season. I thought that in addition to the obvious Amira/Mohammed, Carlos/Kiki/Essam would be important, Kiki’s family life would be important, Stefan would be important, and David/Matteo would probably not be important as they seemed to be doing just fine in their scenes.

I didn’t think Mia/Alex would be important because I didn’t actually watch their clip lol. The Winterberg stans on my twitter orbit thought the clip was cute and nothing to worry about. That should’ve been my first clue that the (twitter) stan habit of repeating the “we never lose” mantra doesn’t make for great viewing comprehension, because watching the clip, it’s so obvious that shit is gonna go down lol.

Mia moves from one of the flat share’s bathrooms to the other because they never really recreated Mia’s room in the s3 flat share.

I still haven’t watched Mia’s episode, so I don’t know how all this stuff is going to get resolved, but it seems like Mia doesn’t think they can handle a LDR, and Alex is picking up on those vibes hard. I guess I don’t really get why Mia is so pessimistic about it because at that age I kinda thought a few months break weren’t really an obstacle. (Not sure if it would help me to watch Mia’s season, because this seems like a wholly new conflict.)

Anyway, Alex acts sweet/reassuring (I really like how soft spoken everyone is in this episode), so Mia puts it out of her mind for now. But Idk, they haven’t really spoken about the elephant in the room.

CLIP 2: Don’t call them the chastest evak ever again

Tbh this clip comes across as a direct rebuttal to all the s3 commentary about David and Matteo seeming like they’re not into each other, or like they aren’t ~passionate~ like the other evaks.

It’s like, “these gremlins are horny on main, now shut up.”

But I like that they’re fully dressed, like yes, you can show physical intimacy without undressing your teen actors (shade fully intended).

I love Lukas von Horbatschewsky’s hair and I’m very jealous of Matteo in this sequence, lmao.

Luis Sepúlveda died of coronavirus this year, in Spain. You’re welcome for that bit of 2020 misery dripping onto this cute clip.

I do think David feels guilty that he may have caused Matteo to fail his Spanish exam because of David’s own issues, which I think is very on brand for David. Obviously it wasn’t his fault.

I really like how soft spoken everyone is in this episode, 2X.

And this has been said a million times by now, but David and Matteo are the one evak version where they’re the same age (Joana is in the same year as Cris, but is a year older, so she must’ve gotten held back at some point). So it’s funny, and possibly a reference to Isak and Even, to see David talking about what it’d be like if they had that age difference. Like, maybe David would be more like Even in behavior! And, going by Matteo’s reaction, he wouldn’t be into that.

This clip really feels like the ending to Matteo and David. They’ll go on a road trip, they’ll work on David’s movie, they’ll be around, but this clip is their conclusion. They both feel secure and content in their relationship, and ready for everything that’s to come.

Like I said on the post about Cris and Joana, I like that David and Matteo don’t have further issues. And while I have tons of issues with Druck s4, which I will be talking about forever in the following posts, I never had an issue with how they deployed Matteo or David. (Okay, self. Now say that again without crying about David’s season that should have been.)

Fucking David cutting their make out short only to then say such a highkey flirty, romantic thing to Matteo though. No wonder Matteo’s like, “STOP, I’M SUPPOSED TO STUDY.”

CLIP 3: A challenger appears!

I like the fanon that David is a healthy eater (or at least in comparison to Matteo), because all we ever see David eat of his own volition (i.e. not food that was made for him) is candy.

God, I love Kiki snatching David’s fruity gummies out of his hands. It makes me laugh every time, particularly how she demands to know if the candy is vegan.  

Hanna looks beautiful. ;_;

There’s a split second when Jonas is about to give Hanna that box where David looks alarmed in the background. In my mind he’s all, “Bro, no. Not a public proposal. Reel it back in, bro!”

And then, to the surprise of Jonas and all the viewers, we find out that not only are Jonas and Hanna not together, but Hanna is dating German Arthur. Again, in “fandom refuses to acknowledge storyline conflict until it’s staring right at them” news, Stefan had actually been introduced via an audio to Hanna the day before, but people were convinced it was Hanna’s dad. Whose actor they called just to record an audio. Clearly.

My belief at this point was that Stefan would be relevant to Amira’s storyline, but instead it was just a way to give Hanna her own episode. 🤡

Matteo’s transformation into Michi is complete by donning his grandpa hat.

He also makes to trip David for no real reason. Throwback to Unter Wasser.

Matteo saying Inshallalalah in a sing song voice is cute, but so annoying.

Matteo Florenzi: He’s a pain in the ass, but we love him.

CLIP 4: I guess Abdi and Axel picked up his grades at another point

I love the way Matteo grabs David’s head to pull him along. They’re so cute and I’m gonna enjoy every second.

Jonas also grabs Hanna along, because fans needed to be further confused as to what was happening with Hanna and Stefan and Jonas.

Thank you, Druck, for telling me Kiki’s and Amira’s grades, but as you can understand, that’s nowhere near enough to satisfy my curiosity and I will be needing to know everyone’s GPA because that is the kind of thing that’s important to me. What about it!!!

I think, going by how impressed Mia is, that Mia’s grade isn’t as good as Amira’s. Which I think is a neat detail, since the Nooras are kind of supposed to be the perfect girls. I like that Amira is even better than Mia at school.

I thought the concept of Carlos failing his final exam and maybe realizing school wasn’t his thing would’ve been an interesting storyline to explore, but I’m not mad that it didn’t happen. Hopefully Druck will touch on it with the next kids.

And we’re now treated to three reveals about Kiki. Kiki has a sister (now she has two), she likes the idea of moving out and living with Carlos, and her mom isn’t doing well.

The remakes trying to develop their Vildes past s4 make sense to me. By the end of Skam, Vilde clearly was the character who’d been the most robbed of a season, there were several potential storylines to do with her. Financial instability, alcoholic mom, eating disorders, plus it seemed obvious that any season taking place during the girls’ russetide should go to her. And that’s without getting into Vilde’s strong denial that she was a lesbian.

So the remakes are sitting on all these potential storylines, but as we now know, they can’t make their own Vilde season.

And from a European TV exec’s point of view, Vilde (who in every version is a white, skinny, ostensibly straight girl) is a very safe main after the gay and Muslim seasons.

Cue the LITTLE SISTER.  

I get why people are fed up with the Vildes’ prominence in the remakes that are in their latter stages, but at the same time we got 8 versions of Noora’s season, most of which are a limpdicked enemies to lovers story with a misguided sexual assault storyline tacked at the end. (And I say misguided because after a strong start, it’s mostly about what William will think, how William will react, I can’t tell William about this, etc.) So in my case, I’ve had quite enough Noora to last me a lifetime, but my Vilde thirst has only begun to be quenched.

Tangent over, Kiki lies that she’s not going to the lake because she’s going to check on Carlos. Bad form, Kiki.

CLIP 5: Graduation (Friends Forever).mp3

In clown news, I predicted there’d be a clip between the Kiki stuff and the actual dance (maybe a Sam clip), as it seemed to me there wasn’t much of a connection between Kiki looking sad on that ping pong table and PARTY TIME. Lol at me.

And speaking of clowning, while I thought the Abiball episode was part of s4, I also thought that was fine because it was just doing the multi POV episode in the beginning of the season rather than at the end, right? Wrong.

As much as it would’ve been great if Sam and Abdi had storylines pertaining to racism and islamophobia (whether Abdi is or isn’t a Muslim, people would probably assume he is), I also have to admit… This conversation is hilarious.

“I want to have intercourse with you.” [glass breaks in the background]

Abdi closing his speech with a wide smile gvvhvh.

The first hundred times I watched this scene, I thought Alex seemed a bit alarmed at the conversation taking place, but really… We’re back to stone-faced Alex lol.

Don’t kill me, but I feel a little bad for Abdi in this moment. He really put himself out there and Sam just leaves without giving him an answer, yikes. I actually got tired of Abdi’s sad sackiness during the season, but right now I feel for him. L

There’s this smile Jonas sometimes directs at dudes (like Alex here) that makes me think… Bi. He also directs it at Matteo in s3.

Ugh.

There’s a parallel universe where Stefan was the villain of Amira’s season, and it would’ve been a much more interesting season than the one we got.

Because Stefan is a bit of a Darth Jonas. He works for Greenpeace, but, at least in this scene, seems a bit full of himself, and like… twisting the knife in a way that feels like it has to be intentional. And it would’ve been so interesting if Druck had tackled the white dudes who seem like they’re not going to be assholes about Muslims, but then turn around and say some shocking garbage. I’m sure we’ve all met a guy like that before.

In my mind, Stefan would’ve driven a wedge between Hanna and Amira, which would’ve been way more compelling than what we got, but on the other hand, it probably would’ve made fandom people hate Hanna, and people outside of fandom hate Amira.

Anyway, tag teaming gays! I love how David and Matteo share a look and immediately take care of both Jonas and Stefan.

I also love it when David looks murderous. It looks good on him.

But I feel like this didn’t go anywhere? Like, Matteo always hated Stefan and continued hating Stefan until the finale. In this scene, David seems to dislike Stefan just as much, but it’s not a thread they bother following. It’s too bad because I think Matteo and David together sabotaging Stefan is a lot funnier than just Matteo doing it.

I love how soft spoken Amira is when telling Essam not to show up at her graduation party. I would’ve been a lot less polite lmao.

You know, I actually thought Kiki was genuine here when she said she wasn’t a fan of competitions. Obviously that’s not the Kiki we’ve known until this point, but like, I thought it was meant to show character development on her part, But we’ll talk about THAT more in the following episodes.

Matteo fully blames their win on David being so hot, mysterious and new, and it’s hilarious because that’s also what initially drew him to David. Like, “fuck you for being so hot!”

I thought it was such a nice detail that they brought back the girl from the refugee classes in s1. We’re saying goodbye to all these school people who are going on their own post high school journeys without us!

In my mind, Abdi and Alex are talking about something completely serious, like, I don’t know, Abdi’s dad wanting him to study business and Alex advising Abdi on the best business schools in Berlin or something.

I feel like Hanna is the one girl in the squad who really doesn’t feel ready for post high school life and I HATE the writers so much for how they wrapped her character up, but we’ll save that for later.

I could watch Matteo passing the tiara (=the main) to Amira forever. The way he tips his hat and looks like even he’s a little surprised that he (a character like him!) was ever the lead on a teen show, David’s voice asking Matteo if he’s coming, Matteo leaving with David to live happily ever after, the initial notes of Just Got Paid as Amira looks at nighttime Berlin. This meme is overdone by now, but THE POETIC CINEMA.

Jonas glaring at romantic rivals at end of year dances is iconic at this point.

Amira being tagteamed by an annoying little brother AND a well-meaning, embarrasing older brother. Choose your own nightmare.

I really love the set up for the Essam/Kiki/Carlos conflict. The emotional potential is SO good because on one hand you have Kiki, who wants to have a good time for once instead of parenting her own parent, then Carlos whose self-esteem is on the floor after having failed his final exam, and Essam, whose own sense of self-worth hinges upon whether white German girls find him attractive. Like, obviously Essam is never going to come between Kiki and Carlos who have been through some shit together, but with Carlos out of commission and Essam eager to please, you can see how the situation could so easily turn into a mess.

Amira and Mohammed have the most sexual tension out of any Yousana pair, period. They literally just said hi to each other and I already feel like I’m intruding gvhvhv.      

Social media

David saying of Matteo: “Er bekommt Auslauf.” (Something like, “he gets walkies” because he’s been good with revising) is the cutest shit ever.

Remember when Stefan sent Jonas a whole ass message and signed it “with sunny greetings”? Stefan was much more fun when we were supposed to find him unbearable.

Kiki creating a new Whatsapp group for every single thing is so true to life.

I’d forgotten that Amira also hated Stefan almost right away. The season that could’ve been, I tell you.

All the Abi Chaker Clan content reminds me of how I thought Jonas looked like, well, such a child, compared to Stefan, and I thought that was intentional. Like, here is Stefan with a Greenpeace job whereas Jonas doesn’t know what to do with his life, and he’s like, spray-painting abi chaker clan onto walls and posting pics to the abi chaker clan account. It’s not that I thought Jonas should’ve acted like a whole ass adult, of course he’s having fun with his high school friends, but I thought Jonas might feel inadequate in comparison to where Stefan is at this point of his life.

I can’t remember who revealed it, but Sara was supposed to end up with Toilet Sam and that was supposed to come out during the s3 finale (on that week, Sara posted a story with a guy whose face was obscured iirc). Since that was part of the clip where Hanna and Jonas also got back together, which they cut to make way for Hanna/Jonas/Stefan drama, Sara takes some other dude to the Abiball. And I think we’re supposed to think that’s the same dude she went on that date with.