#Yeah no there probably only gonna be one tag for perseverance here

[sillygoofyboii]

CHAT!!! I COME WITH UTN ART!

I’ve completely given up on the text so I just hand wrote it

[m-y-fandoms]

Danganronpa 1 Girls: adopting an abused child - Headcanons

Request: If it's okay, the DR1 girls with an adopted child that was previously in an intensely abusive living situation? The kid is extremely traumatized by the experience, and is very quiet, fearful and suffers frequent breakdowns and nightmares.

Part 2: Oh! Adopted abused child for DR1 girls anon here... To specify, headcanons.

Of course! A unique request. I’m gonna write this assuming they’ve had the child in their home for a while, maybe a few years, and you can headcanons the girls’ partners versus if they are single moms on your own. This will just be how the DR1 girls treat their adopted, previously abused child. - Mod Kokichi

WARNINGS: past child abuse implied/referenced. Trauma/panic attacks and anxiety

Aoi Asahina:

The queen of three things: sweets, sports, and positive attitudes.

She would definitely use these three skills/interests of hers to help the previously abused child she adopted.

First of all, she’d chosen this child in particular because she saw their profile and asked about them. Her big heart wouldn’t allow her to abandon a child that’s clearly been through a lot of suffering, especially not after her own experience in the killing game.

Despite whether or not she had a partner, she’d want kids when she was able to responsibly care for them. Also, her experience as a big sister would prepare her for kids a little better than an only child.

Sweets: having a panic attack? Here’s some home-made cookies. Bad day at school? Let’s strap on an apron and bake together tonight. Stayed up late with insomnia or nightmares? Well good news, doughnuts for breakfast the next morning!

Sports: being athletic and active herself, Hina would encourage her child to enter team sports to get better at socializing and just learn important motor skills, but she wouldn’t force them into it, knowing crowds or loud noises may overstimulate them.

Maybe she’d have them start small. Table tennis or private swimming lessons. When and if they were ever ready, soccer or lacrosse on the school’s team.

That’s not to say she wouldn’t love and appreciate a more artistically or mathematically inclined child. Sports or not, she’d find a way to use their inherent skills to better them. She’s not one to give up on the people she cares about.

Positive attitudes: slip-ups and panic attacks are nothing to get discouraged about! She would stay up all night with a child going through anxiety, assure them that this too shall pass, and use positive reinforcement.

Sakura Ogami:

Another mom who would seek out sports as a way to ease her child’s suffering.

But unlike Asahina, she’d see sports as more of a way to teach perseverance and self-discipline rather than social skills.

She would want them to learn some type of martial art. It would teach balance, strength, inner-peace, and erase self-doubt.

Plus, learning martial arts would help teach self-defense. She would never want her child to go out until the word helpless and not knowing how to defend themselves should they absolutely have to.

She would enjoy reading to her child at night, and talking at length with them about what was bothering them. She would let them cry onto her strong shoulders, and offer stoic wisdom. She’s like, super good at giving advice.

Loves them unconditionally, is fiercely protective and loyal. A very supportive and loving mother.

Shells out the cash for any and all therapy they need, physical and psychological. She doesn’t see mental illness as a weakness.

Celestia Ludenberg:

This mom, instead of teaching a child to ignore trauma and bullies - be they internalized and metaphorical or external and corporeal - would teach her child how to face their obstacles head on.

Bullies at school? Well we’ll handle that. “They won’t be a problem anymore, trust me.”

PTSD and past trauma? Well we will sit here and talk about these weaknesses until they become our strengths. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and you’ll be undefeatable after all you’ve been through.”

This child will be spoiled, but not in a bratty way. They will simply wear the best clothes, eat the most expensive food, and attend the best schools.

Celestia would play endless card and board games with her child to keep their mind off of darker thoughts.

“Moooom, you cheated again!”

“Oh? Did I~?”

“Yes!” A disgruntled but reluctantly amused smile.

“Well~ I think it is simply that you don’t know how to play this game yet. But one day, you will.”

Kyoko Kirigiri:

At first, it may take her a while to open up and truly be the best mother she can be.

But she understands wanting more from a parent-child relationship, and after a while of doubting herself, would buckle down and do what she needs to do.

Wouldn’t be as pushy with talking about triggering subjects, or entirely comfortable giving advice either.

But is a terrific listener/observer. She walks in after work and sees her kid crying alone in their room. They’d remembered something scary, something they didn’t want to think about, they said.

“I see...well, do you want to talk about it?” And she’d sit there by their bedside until she was sure they didn’t need her any longer.

If single: definitely has a big house, a reputable maid, a nanny, a nice car in the driveway, but still insists on personally packing her kids lunch with a little encouraging sticky note inside.

If she has a partner: can be convinced to be more involved and slowly but surely becomes more hands-on and soccer-momish, minivan and all. Sees her partner’s own parenting skills as a challenge to step it up. Kyoko has all the makings of a great mother, she just won’t let herself see it. A partner would be just the push she needs: a Watson to her Holmes.

Toko Fukawa (I watched the anime and played the three main games so if her personality changes drastically in ultra despair girls and I’m way off I apologize):

Toko knows childhood regret, trauma, nightmares. She understands feeling isolated and different. She would be a very clingy and coddling mother.

If you ever touched a hair on her child’s head, you better just execute yourself before she does.

Sure she’s not the most confident or kind person on her own, but we’ve seen how devoted to and possessive she is of people she cares about.

She’d read to her child nightly, but only what she deemed to be the best children’s literature, of course.

Would love her child more than she loved her own partner. She would feel needed, like someone depended on her for once instead of her tagging along behind someone else.

I think as she boosts her child’s confidence and social skills, her own would grow along with them.

I know she’s getting better every day at controlling her inner demons, and her other half, Syo (I watched like two hours of UDG gameplay so I know this much) but I think she’d be extra careful and determined to have full control once becoming a mother.

Sayaka Maizono:

I think she would see music as an outlet for a hurting child.

Another girl who would have hella money, so she wouldn’t hesitate to get her kid lessons from the best instructors, be they voice or instrumental lessons.

And when her child mentions feeling uncomfortable about leaving the house for unnecessary reasons, especially for going to a public, noisey studio, she would pay extra to have the instructor come to them.

To her, music heals the soul.

When they have nightmares, she’s the most likely of the girls to sing lullabies, being the most talented and confident in her singing voice.

She would definitely want to be a mother one day, but with her time-consuming job, might find adoption easier and less compromising to an idol’s “flawless” body (her manager’s opinion more than her own ugh).

She’d use her intuitive “psychic” abilities to sense when her child was having a particularly rough day, or having more depressing thoughts. I think she’d be one of the ones more suited to deep conversations and true motherly advice.

Junko Enoshima:

I honestly don’t think she’d adopt a child for any wholesome or selfless reason.

She’d adopt a child with PTSD or past trauma in order to feed off of their despair or to teach that already hurting child to hurt others.

She’d be drawn to the more chaotic and/or mentally unwell children, but it would be a mistake to let her near them.

Junko is selfish in every way and would only adopt a child to carry on her evil lineage.

It may not even go that far. She may get bored of them or decide they aren’t worthy of becoming her protege and just dispose of them like an old play thing.

(Sorry Junko stans but I’m not about to pretend she’s just a bratty, preppy rich blonde mean girl type. She’s a selfish and abusive psychopath lmao)

Mukuro Ikusaba:

Another one who probably shouldn’t be a mother.

I do feel bad for her though. Much like Korekiyo, I think their siblings both abused and manipulated them from a young age. They never learned any differently. Still she’s responsible for her bad choices in the series.

Without Junko’s influence, I believe she would be fiercely protective of a child, much like an obsessive mother bear once she retired from mercenary work for good.

But unfortunately, she’s given her life to her abusive sister.

If she had a child, they would either be neglected because she spends all of her time serving Junko or away on dangerous mercenary missions.

Or they would be trained to be an abused slave to their aunt Junko just like Mukuro is.

Junko may manipulate Mukuro into adopting a child, saying things like: “you’re more of the mommy type than me!” Or, “yeah I totally think a despair filled child would be good for you! You could teach it to like kick ass and shit!”

This of course, was all a way to get Mukuro to do all the work of actually raising the child, while Junko warped both of their minds to her cause.

[buckyreaderrecs]

Gloxinia

Summary: You’re a witch that helps The Avengers a couple of times. Bucky Barnes finds some sort of happiness and healing in you, and the flowers you surround yourself with. He’s a boy in lalalove. 

 Words: 5,808 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, James 'Rhodey' Rhodes, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), witch!Reader, enhanced!Reader, she/her pronouns for Reader, other characters mentioned but not in scenes, recovering!Bucky, witchy vibes, evil werewolf clones, sassy Sam Wilson, LOTS of flower symbolism, Avengers compound, fluff Warnings: reference to having nightmares but nothing serious My masterlist.

Note: This was written for @the--sad--hatter and her Flowers For My Followers writing challenge. Kara, I love you, and I hope you love this. Also shout out to @vibraniumwitch for being my witchy inspiration always. Also, sorry for probably wrong geography stuff; I'm Australian and don't know shit about New York/Upstate New York loooool.

 Gloxinia

For any of The Avengers to be sceptical of witchcraft seemed, to be perfectly frank, really fucking stupid. Each of their lives had been wrapped up in magic and mystery, so to have them hold back smirks and send mocking glances across the table at each other was not exactly what you had expected.

To be fair, it wasn't all The Avengers making fun. At the head of the table, Steve Rogers watched with curiosity, although he was sure his expression read as neutral. Sam Wilson took the seat closest to you, asking the same question phrased multiple ways.

"So, a witch witch?" "Is it more Sabrina or Charmed?" "Really just making a potion, huh? Like a real life witch…"

He broke the tension, which would have been otherwise unbearable.

Tony Stark, Clint Wilson, and James 'Rhodey' Rhodes had been reduced to acting like teenagers at the mere suggestion of brewing a potion. You'd been hoping for a different audience. Specifically, Wanda Maximoff. She would have believed you. Alas, you had not been gifted your choice in company.

"Alright, Broom-hilda, show us what 'cha got," Tony said, growing impatient.

"Do we really have to drink that?" Clint added, peering into the bowl you'd been mixing things in. "Won't turn our skin purple? Grow an extra limb?"

Rolling your eyes, you held up a plant. "Magnolia, for perseverance. Or, add the petals to a salad for a bit of extra colour," you explained in your best infomercial voice.

Sam snorted, then began to poke around the rest of the ingredients. "What’re the orange ones for?"

"That's nasturtium. For conquest."

When you'd finished the mix, you let it cook over a small, portable heat pad. Modern witch, and all that. Hot off the stove, you poured the liquid into a collection of small, glass bottles.

"Let it cool, cork them, then drink it when you need it," you announced, matter-of-factly.

When Natasha Romanoff had exhausted all of her routes of gathering information, returning with only your name, everyone was close to admitting defeat. The battle was lost, surely, if a witch's potion was the only hope… But Steve wasn't in the business of giving up. He sent Sam to bring you to the compound.

Steve explained that they had located a source of power. Ancient, unstable, highly sought-after power. And even with all their superhuman strength and superhuman speed and superhuman everything, they couldn't get to it. Maybe, though, with what was best described as a performance-enhancing-witchy-substance, they had a fighting chance.

The room looked over the bottles.

"How do we know if it'll work?" Sam asked, picking one up and inspecting it.

"We don't," Tony answered. It was less an attack than a statement of unfortunate fact.

"You'll just have to trust me."

Sam nodded, and watched as you pulled a sprig of yarrow and put it into his bottle.

"Yarrow, for healing," you told him.

"Yeah, ah… Can I grab some of that too?" Rhodey asked. "Falc ain't the only brother without super healing."

 …

"No," 

"But-"

"No. I'm not gonna be a magical drug dealer to-" but Sam cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

"Y/N, Y/N, you got it all wrong! I don't want that nasty nasturtium stuff. Nah, I'm thinking… truth serum?"

"Truth serum," you repeated deadpan.

"Yeah, nightshade," he says nodded and wriggling his eyebrows. He was doing his best 'good kid does extra credit' impression.

"You googling 'truth plant' isn't impressive," you said. That elicited a snort from Sam's companion.

Standing next to him, silent and appearing impatient, Bucky Barnes crossed his arms over his chest. But the snort had dragged him into the conversation.

"And what do you want?" you asked him.

"What?"

"Love spell. Vampire tracker. Or just an easy bottle of truth serum too?"

Bucky blinked at you, then slowly shook his head. "I've had enough serums to last me a lifetime… I'm just here 'cause Steve said you'd kick his ass before you gave him any…magic or whatever," he answered, motioning to Sam.

"So Rogers got all the trio's brains, huh?"

Sam and Bucky frowned in unison.

"Look, we normally just use Nat for this kind of thing. But our guy ain't talking, and we need the information," Sam tried again. "She's out of town, and Wanda's taking a break from getting in people's heads."

Being called in to brew superhero steroids as a once off was one thing… Having the Falcon and the Winter Soldier show up on your doorstep at 11:00 pm was another. However, the men looked desperate.

Sighing, you looked at them. "Fine. Come in. I might be able to help." 

You lead the men through your living room, overlooked by a small kitchen. Their faces told you a lot. "You were expecting a magic cave? Portal to a hut in the middle of a forest?"

"Yeah, kinda," Sam replied, casually shrugging.

"Do you live in a nest?" you asked him.

Bucky chuckled.

"Alright, I get it. The witch thing isn't always literal."

But that's when you pulled a dark purple velvet curtain back, revealing a room you referred to as your office.

"Woah," Bucky whispered to himself.

"Now, see, this is what I'm talking 'bout!" Sam exclaimed, looking around the room in awe.

The small, windowless room was framed by floor to ceiling bookshelves on three of the walls. Stuck between books were trinkets and oddities. Against the fourth wall was a table covered in dried herbs, potted plants, and other things neither Sam nor Bucky could identify.

"Sit," you instructed, pointing to the round table in the centre of the room. There were scorch marks and deep gashed in the wood grain. Bucky traced them with his right hand.

As they pulled out chairs and sat, Sam pointed, "Is that a microwave?"

"For heating potions… and hot pockets," you explained. "So, how much can you tell me?"

"Officially - nothing. Unofficially - your magic juice helped save the world a month ago, so, whatever you need to know," Sam answered.

"Okay. And, none of those C.I.A. psychotropic L.S.D. drugs are real? No secret truth serums invented by Bruce Banner?" you asked, more out of interest than need-to-know.

"If they do, they ain't telling us," Sam said. 

He explained that they had a man in custody. The man knew a date and a location, but he wasn’t cracking in interrogation and time was running out.

"Sounds very spy T.V. dramatic," you mused.

"But it's real life," Bucky said.

"Yeah," you replied, looking at him and his serious expression. "Okay, so what's meant to happen? On the date or whatever?"

"You'll sleep better not knowing that," from Bucky, his expression remaining the same.

You trusted him to gauge what you should and should not know. Nodding, you turned around and began to look for the things you needed. The men watched, leaning over the table when you put things on it.

"I don't do magic on other people. It's a line we don't cross. So, no truth serum. What I can do is try to pull the information you need from somewhere else. Bring it here," you told him.

When you joined them at the table you smiled at their matching faces; furrowed brows and darkened eyes.

"You're sure he knows what you need to know?" you asked. They nodded. "Do you have anything of his?" Sam frowned, shook his head.

Bucky thought for a second, then pulled a knife out of somewhere. "Haven't cleaned this yet. Might still have some of his blood on it,"

"Disturbing, but okay," you said, taking the knife and putting it in the wooden bowl in front of you.

The room went silent as you picked white chrysanthemum petals off a fresh stem and dropped them into the bowl. Begonias followed, then basil. Truth. Knowledge. Success.

"One of you has to be the vessel,"

"The vessel?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. The information needs to go to someone. It can't be me,"

"I'll do it," Bucky offered.

For a second you hesitated, wondering how white magic would work through someone with so much darkness in their past. But that was just it - it was the past.

"You need to wear this," you said, handing him a crown made of blackthorn plant. "It's like, a filter. Brings in good luck, and lets the universe know you're working for good."

Bucky looked at the thing in his hands, slowly putting it on his head.

"Suits you, man," Sam said, smirking. Bucky just shot him a look.

They fell silent again, watching you carefully place a few more things in the bowl before filling it with a liquid poured from a glass jar that looked like it once held pasta sauce. Everything sat swimming but still until you placed a hand either side of the bowl, then it started to simmer. It bubbled and popped and seemed to quickly reduce down, evaporating faster than it scientifically should have. Soon, all that was left was about shot glass worth of black, thick syrupy liquid.

"Where's my knife?" Bucky asked.

"Gone," you replied as you poured the potion into a cup. You handed it to Bucky and he looked at you apprehensively. "Drink it and focus on what you want to know… Think about the guy. And, think about what happens if you don't find out what he knows. Think about it so hard that it hurts."

Bucky nodded slowly but shot the liquid quickly. At first, he just sat there, almost like he was stunned.

"How long-" Sam went to ask, but you shushed him.

Suddenly, Bucky pushed back from the table, standing up and sending his chair flying. Sam followed, holding his arms out like he expected Bucky to fall.

"It's okay," you told Sam. "He's okay."

Bucky's eyes were shut tight, and he held his head, fingers curling around his blackthorn crown. He began to breathe heavily, mouth open.

"Is he gonna spew?!" Sam shrieked in a high-pitched voice.

Taking the empty wooden bowl with you, you stood and moved to Bucky. He went still and mimicked your exact movements of slowly lowering yourself to the ground and kneeling. Sam didn't understand how Bucky knew what to do; you'd not uttered a command.

You placed the bowl between you and Bucky. He leaned over it, and began to cough and pull something from his mouth. It was impossibly long, coming from somewhere deep inside him. He pulled and pulled, letting it slop into the bowl. When it was all out, he spat, then seemingly woke up, falling on his butt and backing away from the bowl.

"What the fuck," he said between heavy breaths.

Sam and Bucky watched you look through the muck and gunk in the bowl, no hesitation to your movement.

"What is that?" Sam asked, truly disgusted. 

You looked over to Bucky, who was looking at the thing intently. He scrambled back over and took it from you. "I know…" he started, looking up at Sam. "I know… everything.”

 …

 You had dropped cutlery three times, but when it was almost midnight and no company had come, you were getting restless. In your office, sat at the table, you shuffled a deck and laid out cards.

The Hanged Man. The Hermit. The Hierophant, reversed. The Lovers.

Then, 11.11 and a soft knock on the door.

Bucky Barnes looked sleep deprived but somehow hopeful.

"I thought I might see you tonight," you told him, opening the door and letting him through. "Were you right? About the date and place?"

"Yes," he said, coming to stand in your living room.

"Good. What do Earth's Mightiest Heroes need now then?"

Bucky looked around. "Do you have any pets?" he asked.

"No. Do you?"

"A cat. Alpine... Thought you'd have one… black cat or something." He wasn't teasing, like Sam had.

"Black cat? Thought you guys were the ones with a black cat?"

Bucky grinned. "Funny. You're funny,"

"Thanks… You're not here for them then,"

"No," he said, walking over to the window where plants were everywhere. "Do you use all of these? For your magic?"

"Most of them, yeah. Like, these ones…" You moved to stand next to him. "They give strength,"

"Snapdragons," Bucky identified.

"Yep. And… Vervain are protective in nature, especially from enchantment." You picked a sprig of the purple plant, threaded it through Bucky's hair, behind his ear.

"What about nightmares? What helps with those?" he asked earnestly.

The room was illuminated by candlelight. A soft orangy glow lit up half his fast, casting the other half into shadow. You turned to him and cupped his face in your hands.

"A tired soldier… Sing him to sleep… A tired soldier… The devil's to keep," you sung gently, running your thumbs along his cheeks. "Sit. I'll brew you tea,"

"Tea?" Bucky asked, a little hesitant to be out of your hands.

"Magic tea," you clarified, rolling your eyes.

Elderflower for compassion and sweet-brier petals for healing. A little poppy and chamomile, and other secrets kept in your family for generations. A dash of Indian jasmine to finish. It glimmered as you swirled it in the teacup.

Bucky was on the couch, sitting up too straight.

"Take your boots off. Lay down," you instructed. He went to protest, probably say you didn't need to put that much effort in. "Please," you said, stopping the protest. "Let me do this."

Bucky followed your commands and took the teacup when offered. He skulled it like a frat boy in a bar trying to impress his mates.

"Now close your eyes. Sleep," you said, taking the empty cup from him.

Kneeling next to the couch, you softly ran your fingers through Bucky's hair and waited until he fell asleep before you moved to your own bed.

He was gone when you woke up.

 …

 "What? No broomstick?" called the unmistakable voice of Sam Wilson.

Standing at the open boot of your car, you looked up and watched him approach, Bucky trailing behind, hands shoved in his pockets.

"You stalking me now?" you asked, clocking the bunch of flowers in Sam's hands.

"Nope. Just waiting for you. Weren't home and we wanted to drop off a thank you, for the helping last week," he said, holding out the bouquet to you.

"So, the information was good?" you asked, pretending Bucky hadn't already confirmed it to you. His late night visit to you a few nights before was obviously not something he'd shared with his friends.

"It was good. You do good work,"

"Thanks," you said dubiously, but taking the flowers.

"We picked those out especially. This one is a gerball-"

"Gerbera," Bucky correct.

"Means 'you are the sunshine of my life' and this one is an orchid, for beauty," Sam rattled off.

"What about this one?" you asked, pointing to the yellow agrimony.

"Buck picked that one. What's it mean?" Sam asked, looking over to Bucky. Bucky was leaning against your car casually. He shrugged, pretended to not know agrimony was the gratitude plant.

"They're beautiful. You didn't have to," you told them, putting the flowers in one of the boxes in the boot of your car.

"You need a hand?" Sam asked, not waiting for a response. He swooped in and collected one of the heavy boxes. Bucky followed, picking up the other.

"Ah… sure…"

You let them carry your things inside, put them on the kitchen bench.

"More witch stuff? Eye of newt? That kind of thing?" Sam asked.

"If microwave popcorn and frozen lasagna is witchy, then ya got me," you laughed. "You're gonna be disappointed if you keep thinking like that, Sam,"

"You say that but I've seen behind the curtain. You're definitely witchy enough,"

"Yeah, yeah… So what do you want? You didn't just come to give me flowers," you asked, launching yourself backwards and up to sit on the bench.

You glanced over at Bucky, who was back over at the window and the plants. Sam clocked you looking, but filed that away.

"We've got an offer for you,"

"When you say 'we,' who exactly do you mean?"

"Us! The Avengers! Superheros!" Sam said, chest puffed out.

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. "Nope,"

"You haven't even heard-"

"No. I'm happy doing what I do," you told him.

"I told you," Bucky chimed in, stopping at a gloxinia, something about its prettiness resonating with him. "What's this one mean?"

"Love at first sight," you said, biting your lip to hide a smile.

"Whatever you do doesn't come with the perks we have," Sam persisted.

"Also doesn't come with anonymity I kinda like,"

"Alright. I tried. Can't promise we won't be back for more help though. Like I said, you do good work... So, this lasagna. Fresh?"

…

 "Well, if it isn't Broom-hilda," Tony said, arms open.

"I hope you're not expecting a hug," you replied, holding your own arms around yourself. Bucky snorted from next to you.

"Brumhilda?! A name derived from Brunnhilde, no doubt. I have a friend named-"

"Yeah, now's not the time for Asgardian tales," Tony interrupted a seemingly very excited Thor.

"Her name's Y/N," Bucky said to Thor.

Thor looked back and forth between Tony and you. "He thinks it's funny," you explained.

"It is. And I am," Tony argued.

You sighed, sat down in one of the conference room's chairs and began to slowly spin on it. "So, what am I doing here?"

When Sam and Bucky knocked on your door before the sun had a chance to rise and shine that morning, you knew it was going to be hard to say no to them. They both looked upset, and Sam was even free from his usual quips. As soon as you saw their faces, you began to nod. "Let me get dressed. I'll come," you whispered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Bucky pulled up a seat next to you, the rest of the room taking the cue and finding their spots around the large table. You recognised everyone, having met most of them. Clint and Rhodey nodded politely in your direction.

"Y/N," Steve greeted, sitting next to Bucky. "Good to see you. Heard these punks have been harassing ya?"

"Nothing she can't handle," Sam cut in, sitting on your other side.

"Truly sorry for them," Steve said, grinning.

You shrugged, looking at Bucky. "They're alright."

Tony cleared his throat. "Whole team isn't here yet, but they're coming… We're going to need all the help we can get."

 ...

 "There's too many of them!” 

"At least they're not evil flying robots!"

"Hey! I said I was sorry!"

"Cap, we've got to try somethin' else. Bullets ain't doin' shit."

"Wanda? Can you-"

"On it."

"Do you need me to go big? 'Cause I'll go big."

"Yes! Mr. Stark, can he go big?!"

From your hidden vantage point higher up the mountain, you watched the battle play out in front of you. Through the earpiece you listened to The Avengers et. al. try to work out what to do. It was true - they were severely outnumbered. The situation was going from bad to worse.

"Jesus!" you yelped as someone almost body-slammed themselves next to you.

"Sorry. Checkin' you're still here,"

"Where else would I be?"

Bucky shrugged, reloaded.

"What are they, Buck? I know a lot about a lot, but I've never seen anything like them."

You took another look through the M22 field binoculars you'd been issued. The monsters didn't look entirely… natural. Maybe, like many creatures of the world, they were made in a lab. They were men pulled apart, stitched back together with pieces of dog and wolf. Their claws ripped through protective gear and flesh like it was nothing, and they could communicate by wordless sound. It was almost howling, but more guttural and less fluid.

"They all look the same," you said.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, noticed that too. Exactly the same,"

"Exactly? Up close? Even the human parts?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at you. "Yep. Clones. What're you thinkin'?"

"Clones..? Um, I don't know… I just… If I can figure out what they are then I can figure out how to help."

Sam dropped down on the other side of you, his wings damaged. He ripped the pack off his back and began to try to repair them. "If I knew we were gonna be out here fightin' fucking werewolves I would've packed the silverware instead of the vibranium."

"Werewolves?" you asked, pulling a small silk pouch from your bag. "Here. Use this to stick them back together,"

"Stick it back together? Y/N. Can't just glue an EXO back together-"

"It's not glue, Sam. It's bumblebee orchid, oak leaf, protea, and a bunch of other things you don't wanna know about," you explained.

"You really questioning her magic? Use her glue,” Bucky ordered. 

Sam huffed but complied. And abracadabra, your witchy sticky goop held his wings together stronger than they were before.

Bucky and Sam stood up, reloaded and ready to rejoin the fight.

"Wait!" you called, suddenly having a thought. "What if they really are werewolves?"

"What?" Sam said.

"Weirder things have happened, right? Werewolves are real. So maybe…" Your voice trailed off as you tipped the entire contents of your bag onto the forest floor.

"Y/N, we don't have time-"

"Gimme a second. I know I have it here,"

"Have what?" Bucky asked, kneeling down and studying the contents of your bag too.

"Aconitum extract… in a bottle… Here!"

"Aconitum?" Sam asked confused and growing impatient.

"Monkshood. Um, wolfsbane. Bucky, are we too far up for you to get one?"

Bucky took your M22s and assessed. "No. Nah, I can get one,"

"Gimme a bullet."

Sam and Bucky watched you dip the bullet in aconitum while uttering any and every luck enchantment you could think of. Bucky loaded his M249 SAW, steadied himself and fired.

The monster went down.

All three of you held your breath and waited. Through the M22s you watched Steve approach the body, check it.

"It's… dead…" came through the comms.

 …

 It had been two weeks since the army of hybrid werewolf clones, so two weeks since you'd last seen Bucky. It had taken days to kill them all. You had to be flown out to find more aconitum extract. From the lab at the compound you were able to work with Bruce Banner to find better ways of delivering the wolfsbane to the clones. Once you had it, it was all over for those motherfuckers.

When everyone else arrived back at the compound, they were exhausted, covered in the thick ash generated by the massive fires it took to burn all the bodies. Bucky was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open, but he mustered the energy to offer to drive you back home to New York City himself. You just sent him off to shower and bed, taking Tony's offer of a ride with one of his minions.

It had been two weeks, then a dream, a vivid and hazy dream. A white cat brought you orange blossoms, carrying a branch in his mouth. "Do you want me to plant this?" you asked the cat, and you knew he would say yes if it could speak. He watched you tend to the blossom, then he disappeared through an open window. You could feel the cool breeze against your skin, felt your hair move.

When you woke, it didn't surprise you to find Bucky sitting next to your bed, back to it and legs stretched out in front of him. The window was open, letting in an unseasonably warm morning zephyr.

"I just had a dream about you," you whispered, ruffling his hair.

Bucky looked up at you. He seemed sad. "Good dream or bad dream?"

"Good. Always good."

He nodded, trying for a small smile. "The fern… It meant I could come in, right?"

"Glad you got the message," you answered. Out on the sills of all your windows, you left ferns. They meant a lot of things - fascination, magic, enchantment, sincerity, and shelter - and you'd told Bucky they were his plant, back when he and Sam came to offer you a job with The Avengers. At the entry points to your home, they were an open invitation for him, a coded welcome mat.

"Didn't want to wake you," Bucky said.

"I'm awake now. What do you need?"

He thought for a moment. He needed a lot of things, many of which you could definitely provide. "Tea? Thought maybe you could mix some for me to take home. Maybe give to the others,"

"I can do one better than that. I can make everyone their own blend. It will be fun. Come on. I'll teach you how," you said, pulling the blankets away and getting out of bed.

Bucky stood, looking a little alarmed. "You don't have to-"

"I know, Buck. But I want to. Come on."

It took all day, but eventually you had packaged up individual tea blends for everyone. Bucky got a stash of his special sleepy tea, and he already looked more rested with it in his possession. You walked him to the door sometime just before 5:00 pm.

"Thank you," he said, quiet and reflective.

"Easy. You're always welcome here. Sam - not so much. But you - always," you told him, leaning against the frame of your front door.

"Might take you up on that,"

"Please do," you said nodding.

Bucky smiled, went to leave, but turned back like he was going to say something. You stood straight, patient. His brain was ticking, thinking something over. Deciding. Then, he moved. Quickly, he stepped back and pressed a fast but soft kiss to your lips. He was gone, literally nowhere to be seen, before you had time to say or do anything.

 …

 The Hudson River sparkled under the sunset. Bucky watched the colours reflect the scene, like one of Steve's paintings. He was lost in a daydream when Sam nudged him.

"Where you at, man?" he asked.

Bucky looked over at Sam and Steve, who were both eyeing him off suspiciously. They'd carried a couple of couches to the roof. Stolen Clint's beer and set up shop for the night. Pizza was on its way.

"What?" Bucky asked.

"You were thinking about her again, huh?" Steve guessed.

Bucky looked back at the river, ignored his friends. They laughed, returned to their conversation.

Later, when Sam had retired to his room, not able to superhuman heat himself, Steve moved over to lounge next to Bucky. He rested his head on Bucky's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"You really like her, don't you?"

"I think I love her," Bucky replied.

Steve laughed at the speed of the response. "I think you might too. All those girls before, and you never really loved any of them... Guess you stuck around to meet her,"

"Seems that way,"

"You gonna do anything about it?" Steve asked.

"Yeah… It's gotta be good though," Bucky said, only then realising the depth of his feelings.

"Wouldn't wait too long, pal."

 ….

 Bucky took you up on your invitation, coming and going from your place frequently. Sometimes, you'd find fresh croissants left on your kitchen bench. Sometimes, you'd find him asleep on your couch. 

How much he needed from you varied, but how much he was willing to give seemed infinite. You had to proactively stop him from becoming some sort of amazing housekeeper slash meal provider.

After about a month, he settled enough to be able to just exist around you. He'd help you pick the right leaves for the teas you made people. He'd disappear into your bedroom when you had clients over, reading their cards while Bucky listened in like it was a television series. It was easy being around him, and you were ready to be patient for a lot longer, but fuck were you itching for more.

The kissing was sweet, but very often brief. Bucky caught your lips in the moments between your magic and his profound awe. You did what you could to encourage him, but knew the ball was well and truly in his court. So, when he ushered you outside one sunny morning, you didn't really have much expectation.

"I thought you'd never ask," you said, face lighting up when you saw Bucky's bike out the front of your place. New York City was buzzing around you, but as soon as you watched him get on and hand you a helmet, you'd never craved the open road more.

All the other times you'd been to The Avengers compound, you'd traveled by air. It was quick. The ride took longer but it was so much better. Having your arms wrapped around Bucky, the feeling of the bike rumbling under you, it was something new, which was all sorts of remarkable. Being magic sapped a lot of the wonder from the world, ironically. Bucky was bringing it back.

At the compound, Bucky took your hand and lead you around the side, not going in. "I've, ah, got something for you," he said.

"You sound nervous,"

"Yeah. If you could just cast up a little spell to get rid of that, it would be great," he said deadpan.

You laughed while looking around for clues to Bucky's surprise for you.

Rounding a corner, it came into view. A garden. A proper garden, complete with white picket fencing surrounding it. It was like something out of Practical Magic, and all your childhood dreams.

"What is this?"

"It's for you. A place you can grow whatever you need. Or want," Bucky said.

In a state of genuine shock, you let go of Bucky's hand and covered your mouth with yours. You had never seen anything more spectacular.

At the single entrance to the garden was an arch. Ivy and honeysuckle covered it completely, like they'd had a lot of time to grow. You pulled a flower from the arch, reaching up to find a full bloom. "Honeysuckle petals are edible," you said, reaching out to Bucky. He let you feed him the flower. "Sweet, like the perfume. They symbolism devotion, or being 'united in love.' Kinda like the ivy on it. Ivy symbolises attraction."

Bucky smiled wide, his eyes sparkling as he watched you walk further in. "We tried to make sections, you know, for the different plants. Like, this part here has sandy soil for the desert plants," he explained.

"We?"

"Got a lot of help from the others,"

"I'll have to thank them," you said.

There were veggie patches and small fruit trees. Almost half the garden was designated to all the types of plants Bucky had seen you use in potions and teas. Dog rose, blackthorn, rosemary, euphorbia, snowdrop flowers, bells of Ireland, and welcoming wisteria. The raised beds were overflowing with plants, just about ready to bloom in an explosion of colour.

"This… This is incredible,"

"Figured your apartment doesn't really have the space. And you're welcome here anytime,"

"I’ll wanna be here all the time." The garden was what your magical ancestors could have only dreamed of. "I don’t even know what to look at first,"

"Well, maybe that," Bucky said, pointing to a birdbath, where butterflies were hovering over the water. The best part though, was a small sign sticking out the ground next to it that read For Sam.

You laughed. "Oh my god,"

"He was so grumpy about it,"

"Shouldn't have named himself after a bird then," you reasoned.

Bucky nodded, grinning. "And we put that bench opposite so you could sit and watch them."

Your eyes were beginning to tear up, overwhelmed with the sheer amount of love and effort surrounding you. "Buck… I just can't���"

"Oh! And, one more thing. This was Wanda's idea. Come on."

Bucky took your hand and lead you through the garden to the back to where a weeping mulberry tree stood in the corner. He pushed through the soft branches, revealing the manicured underside. A green, little cave under the canopy held secret another wooden bench. Bucky sat down, otherwise he'd have to bend. It was the perfect height for you though, but you sat next to him anyway.

From under the mulberry tree you could see the rest of the garden. All the plants swayed in the warm breeze, and the flowers popped bright and happy.

"How long have you been working on this? Some of those are grown well in,"

"You don't need to know any of that. Takes away the magic, don't it?"

"You mean, a magician doesn't reveal his secrets and all that?" you asked.

Bucky shrugged and nodded, leaning back into the bench a little more and putting an arm around you. Snuggling into his side, you breathed out and just soaked it all in. Your mind was caught between racing with ideas of all the things you could do with the garden and plants, and totally turning to blissful mush.

"I know ya never wanted to work with us, but I'm glad Nat found you. Glad I met you," Bucky said, his voice back to being a little bit shaky, nervous. "You've made my life better, you know? Not just with the, the nightmares, but just… everything. You make everything better…"

You knew he wasn't finished, so you stayed quiet while he gathered his thoughts. In the meantime, you threaded your fingers through his, rubbed your thumb along the back of his hand.

"I used to be so good at this," he said, huffing a little.

It made you giggle. "Used to be good at what?" you asked knowingly, sitting up and looking at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Y/N! I'm tryna' tell you I'm sweet on you and you're gonna give me shit,"

"Yeah, I am. I'm also gonna give you shit about the phrase 'sweet on you' too," you replied, laughing.

Bucky smiled, watching you laugh, just happy you were happy. When you stopped, he sat up and used both hands to fold the hair behind your ears. Holding your face in his hands, he tried to not grin like an idiot. He couldn’t hide the smirk.

"I love you. I'm in love with you," he said, voice finally dead certain.

"Yeah, the garden was a bit of a giveaway," you replied, quickly adding, "And that's good. 'Cause I'm in love with you too. Very completely."

Bucky made the kind of expression you'd pull at a basket of mewing kittens, or a puppy tumbling across fresh cut lawn. It was very, very kissable. So, you did want any self-respecting witch would do. You kissed Bucky Barnes like your life depended on it in the secret mulberry tree cave he had made just for you.

 ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

My taglist (open): @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter​ @fairislesheets​ @vibraniumdaisies​ @cristie24​ 

[hi-rubi]

hi Rubi this is 👁 anon!! I sent you an ask off anon but I figured I’d send you another and try to say something else. I read another person’s ask that said your writing balances toxicity and redemption well, and I have to say I really agree with that. I love that you don’t shy away from having your characters do shitty things and then having them suffer through the consequences of said things. I think that’s a really mature way of exploring and handling certain darker topics, and it does show that deep down you believe (or want to believe) that people can change and evolve and be better, whether for themselves or for love etc! it’s been something I think about a lot - the way that in your stories, no one is inherently unlovable; characters who believe that eventually realize their own worth, and they learn to fight for themselves.

(sorry this is gonna get long and I hope this doesn’t count as trauma-dumping?) recently I kinda took a step back from a friendship I had with my ex-crush: I really liked him, he didn’t like me that way, and it was hard on both of us? like we changed. we were best friends for a few months and he’d be the first person I talked to when I woke and the last I talked to before I slept. at some point he called me his best friend and deliberately made time to talk to me (like he worked on his class work beforehand so he could message me during class). and when he got a lot more distant I actually would just wrestle with myself and the feelings of loneliness and rejection. I once wrote you a very rambly long anon that I’m slightly ashamed about (bc I really shouldn’t have trauma-dumped in your inbox), but anyway... I realized there were some key differences between us (funnily enough the dispute was about the Mineta update; I was like “omg not Mineta” and he was like “these people suck for looking for representation in the wrong places”) and then I realized... this wasn’t good for me. I tried to not love him (and I will say I’m not in love with him anymore for sure) but it always hurts when you’re the one that’s more invested, right? not his fault that he’s not as invested though bc we don’t owe each other anything. so yeah I’m just taking steps back to not be so dependent on him (bc it’s draining to the both of us)! (it’s kinda sad that I’d been writing in my journal since April about how sad I’d felt about him distancing himself, and that it’s taken Four Months for me to actually stand up for myself and say what I wanted to say, but at least it’s done now! that’s something to be proud of, right? I never used to stand up to people I loved. I’d internalize everything, and then my self-esteem would just sink lower and lower. I’m glad that while this guy wasn’t It for me, at least he’s decent enough and cares about my feelings.)

anyway this long rant is just for me to say that reading your fics has been cathartic for me. the first time I read your fics (I think the rich boy Shoto one), I was sobbing by the time I read to part 5. I felt really lonely and I was wishing he would love me. but like slowly as I kept reading and kept thinking and evaluating, I realized I don’t need /him/ to love me. and sure I’m not perfect and I might have some of my own kinds of toxicity, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worth loving! I’m still working hard to love myself. I’m learning to be compassionate with myself while not giving myself excuses for toxic behavior (eg passive-aggressiveness, overthinking, etc).

I just wanted to tell you that you are a beautiful person (both in and out!!). I could tell this not just from what you write, but from how you interact with the people in your inbox, whether anonymous or not. you have such a big heart, and you pour so much of yourself into your writing. I can see how it’s been both cathartic and perhaps a little destructive to keep ruminating on certain scenarios you’ve dealt with. but also I’m so glad for you that you’re starting to see more hope and light, and hopefully you’re starting to need this coping mechanism less. you are wonderful, not just in what you give others, but in what you are.

when I was looking for MHA smut in the tumblr tag I wasn’t expecting to feel all of this and to experience this change. thank you for that. know that in your journey, there are people who are rooting for you!! love, 👁 anon

p.s. I read your ask about New York and I hope you feel a little more at home now!! you sound like an amazing person to be friends with. even though I’m nowhere near New York (I’m moving from my country to the UK which is still far from NYC), I hope someday I’ll be able to befriend someone like you! and I hope you enjoy the city and the friendships and the drinking and all of it 💜 take care Rubi! known you are loved. the stars cast their love on you.

Ohhhhh my gosh. Eye anon I have so many thoughts putting under cut.

I literally went through the exact same thing. That guy was the reason I wrote half my pieces. Like, scumbag bakusquad and all these other works were about HIM. I know SO WELL how you must feel right now. It is the worst, most painful fucking feeling in the world. The only reason I got over that guy was literally because I went on Wellbutrin (an antidepressant), and I realized my fixation with him (and other guys/things in the past) was quite literally because of my mental illness.

Please, please, please, PLEASE cut him off entirely. I think you mentioned you took a step back from your friendship; I want you to stop reaching out and messaging him completely. You don't have to take my advice, but if I could go back in time and tell myself something, it would be this:

Romanticize your life. Start working out and eating healthy. Get to a point where you feel good about your body. Switch up your fashion and wear shit you'd never normally wear. Experiment with makeup. Meet and talk to as many new people as you can. Go to new places in your city, whether it's a cool new library 30 minutes away or a pretty flower exhibit at the arboretum. Fall deeply in love with your friends and your family. If I were to write a story about you: you are literally a kind, beautiful main character who is moving to the new UK for a fresh start after being hurt in the past, and learns to love herself and others in the process.

Above all, never, ever get upset with yourself for falling for someone. You are an amazing person full of so much love, and he was someone you chose to bless with your emotions. But you probably love so many other things around you- your friends, the crisp air when you go on 7 AM morning runs, the nice lady who compliments your skirt at the store....... he is not unique. He's just one lucky person that got to experience your feelings.

You see how when you romanticize your life and paint yourself as the main character of your narrative, it helps shift everything into perspective? That is what helped me get over him. While my medication did most of the heavy lifting, that mentality just changed the game for me. I hope that you can internalize that, too. It takes a ton of work but I believe in you, and I want to hear updates on how beautiful your life is!! I would also recommend writing it all in a journal/online diary of some sort.

Whoa. You brought up.... SUCH an incredible point. "I can see how it’s been both cathartic and perhaps a little destructive to keep ruminating on certain scenarios you’ve dealt with." You're so right, it was destructive. I was always so absorbed in the cathartic part of it that I was always confused why I felt so destroyed afterwards. I literally wrote that quote doc on my "romanticization" document. There's something so beautiful and poetic about that line.

Thank you so, so much for sending this in. Your incredibly sweet words made me reread this message so many times and also save it. I really really appreciate you being here and I'm so happy I met you <3 Sorry this answer was SO long but eye anon I just.......... I'm just hugging you so hard right now. It feels like I'm talking to myself from the past and I just want you to know that I know what you're going through, and you will persevere.

[thestorytellersapprentice]

Over Booze and Buzz

Pairing: Jo Yeong/Myeong Seung-ah, Lee Gon/Jeong Tae-eul

Fandom: The King: Eternal Monarch

Tags: Fluff, Friendship, Formalwear, Alternate Universe, Parallel Universe

Summary: In which The Captain let loose (at first) in celebration of the King’s birthday. There's booze involved in this, Tae-eul would so much approve.

Notes: Unbeta-ed. Post drama, written before the 13th episode aired, so pretty sure this is not canon. At all. This fic was written mostly because I agree with Myeong Seung-ah. Some men (especially Jo Yeong), all covered up (especially in suits), are terribly hot. And also because we need some light hearted stories before the finale :)

Link: ArchiveofOurOwn

~

As a personal rule, Jo Yeong only drinks two times a year, max. Once, on the birthday of His Majesty, The King of Corea, Lee Gon, and then the only other time was, lately, on his own birthday.

It was not because he had zero tolerance or despised the taste. No, far from it. He actually preferred soju than beer, but he even came to like the Mixing-Shaking-Drinking-style drink that Lieutenant Jeong Tae-eul - former Lieutenant, he reminded himself - introduced him to, and would even admit that he missed it terribly.

However, now that he was fully back to his life and duty as Captain of the Royal Guards in Corea, Yeong simply could not afford to let his reflexes dulled and judgement compromised, even just for a few hours. Multiple lives, including the King’s, Royal Court’s, and his country could be at stake.

But still, he made an exception, for Lee Gon. Only for his best friend Lee Gon.

Yeong clinked his can of beer with His Majesty’s before they both took a gulp.

“Ahh, I totally miss this, Yeongie,” Lee Gon sighed in contentment, a wide smile on his face. “Do you know why I always look forward to my birthday? It's not because of all of the grand celebrations that Lady Noh throws me: the party, cakes, presents, the kind, but because it’s the only time you're gonna have a drink with me.”

Yeong responded by raising one of his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? But that never stops you from asking, does it, Pyeha?”

The King laughed. “I am a man of perseverance, after all. Look what I’ve accomplished! After years and years of asking, you were finally willing to have a drink with me on your birthday too. You know how thrilled I was, right? Took me four years, but progress!”

Yeong gave out a small smile at that, recalling the memory. A few years back, the moment he finally said yes, the King had stood there unblinking for a few seconds, uncharacteristically at loss for words. It was quite an entertaining sight.

“And by the way, I thought you’ve changed,” the Monarch continued, fully protesting now, “I saw you drink openly when you were in the Republic!”

“That’s because you weren’t there.”

Lee Gon made the motion like he had just been shot on the heart. “Ouch, that hurts.”

Yeong just dismissed his King’s antics. "You know what I mean."

Back then, in the Republic of Korea, he was not Jo Yeong but Jo Eun-seob, a mere civilian, who happened to get tangled up in the conspiracies of the two worlds and did some investigations himself. There, he had no King (and best friend) to protect. There, on the other hand, he traded his needs for 24/7 of vigilance with 24/7 of endless worries, because said King had returned to their world with his counterpart without any means to contact them due to the technicalities of the different worlds.

So, yeah, Yeong was fully aware that he was breaking his own rules, but back then, alcohol had been more than essential as his coping mechanism.

Not that he would ever tell the King about the last part, though.

"Anyway, thank you for drinking with me, Yeong-ah." Lee Gon leaned his head back against the headrest. “You see, this, right here, right now,” he remarked, “life is good.”

Yeong let himself hummed in agreement, returning the sentiment.

They were sprawled on the sofa in His Majesty’s study. The King, sporting semi casual clothes of a white collarless shirt and a dark blue vest, was in a relaxed position. He had his hand, which was holding the beer, resting on one of the propped up pillows. Beside him, the Captain was in his suit uniform as always, but had stripped off his suit jacket and folded it up on the nearby chairs. He wasn’t wearing a tie that day, though, and had unfastened the first few buttons on his shirt.

On the table in front of them, the many cans and bottles of beer were mixed in with soju and their glasses, still stacked neatly. They were untouched, for now, due to their mutual agreement that the infamous Jeong Tae-eul's mix of beer and soju was to be kept for later rounds.

To say that Lee Gon had definitely gone overboard was probably an understatement. Yeong was pretty sure that the amount of alcohol had doubled since his last birthday, and he was having difficulties seeing the actual surface of said table.

They were only halfway through their second cans of beer when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Yeong shouted. He did not bother to straighten his back, let alone get up. His Majesty Lee Gon’s birthday was also the one day where he let himself be the best friend first instead of Captain of the Royal Guards. Plus, he was way too comfortable anyway.

He turned in his seat to see Myeong Seung-ah letting herself in, holding a tablet in her hands.

“Pyeha, I terribly apologize, but-” Her voice instantly trailed off once she witnessed the sight in front of her. “Oh, uhh…”

As a new addition to the Palace, less than a year in, Yeong was sure that Seung-ah had yet to get familiarized with their annual habit.

Over the years, Yeong had amassed quite a collection of how people in the Palace reacted to them getting wasted: some were appalled (just Lady Noh, mostly), some highly approved (Secretary Mo), some were fascinated by their curious timing, and a few (almost all of them female, but he did not keep count, really) made awkward attempts to invite him to drink with them later on, to which he obviously denied.

Judging by her nervous glances which alternated between the two men, Yeong would guess that she had a hard time deciding which sight shocked her more: her King slouching carelessly like he had blended onto the sofa, or the Captain holding a beer sans his suit and soldier pose, possibly drunk.

He supposed it was the combination of the two.

To her credit, Seung-ah seemed to be able to recover pretty quickly. Her expression reverted back to that of strict professionalism (to which he very much approved) as she cleared her throat and tried again. “Secretary Mo is looking for you, Pyeha. She has questions about Lady Jeong’s insistence on some protocols.”

The infliction in her voice was clearly an explanation on itself. Yeong could instantly picture Jeong Tae-eul having a fit over the many ancient traditions of the Kingdom. That lady sure was feisty, she could even handle herself against Head Court Lady Noh, which was pretty impressive. Secretary Mo almost didn’t have a chance.

The King turned towards him with an alarmed look on his face. His eyes quickly darted to the beer he was holding, and he needed no words, really. Yeong knew precisely what was on the King's mind.

He stopped the Monarch before he managed to take two fresh beer cans, swapping them with the soju bottles instead. “Pyeha, I’d suggest you take these instead.”

Jeong Tae-eul was famous for her affinity to strong alcohol, after all.

Lee Gon smiled widely at that. “You’re brilliant, Yeong-ah.”

He gathered the bottles and shot glasses onto his hands then stood up. “We’re resuming this tonight. I don’t care if the party ends way past midnight, it’s still my day. My after party. It’s the King’s order.”

The King then turned to Seung-ah with a mischievous smile in his face, “You’re my witness, Miss Myeong Seung-ah.”

~

As soon as the King had departed the room, Seung-ah approached him with a small smile on her face. “Wow, it’s you, Jo daejangnim, loosening up,” she commented. “Daebak.”

Yeong let out a small smile himself. He lifted one of the unopened beers. “Want one?”

He could almost see the gears in the Public Affairs staff’s head turned, as if she was calculating how much she could get in trouble for succumbing to the temptation of alcohol just before the grand party, which he supposed she still needed to oversee.

But she finally relented. “Yeah, okay,” she said, placing her tablet on the edge of the table after rearranging some of the cans and bottles to make space. She cracked open her beer. "I don't know that you drink."

"I mostly don't,” Yeong replied, resting his arms on his knees. “But the Royal Guards have vetted the entire guests, aids, security details, their family, friends, colleagues, distant acquaintances - everyone - multiple times over the last few months, so I’m confident.”

Not to mention, his fellow security details, the ones who would accompany the many military personnels, politicians, foreign delegations, celebrities, everyone who’s who for that night, had done and coordinated their own security checks and protocols with them. The security level of that night's event was simply beyond impenetrable.

"You must have," Seung-ah agreed. "I can't believe it took me more than an hour to enter the Palace every day this week. I've worked here for months and I even know almost everyone from your team by name!"

Yeong felt a swell of pride for his team at that admission.

He took another sip.

He had to admit, it was nice to be able to let go, even just for a short while. The warm buzz of the alcohol was most definitely comfortable.

Now that the nightmare with Lee Lim was all over, finally, finally he could breathe so much easier. Himself, the King, Lady Jeong Tae-eul, as well as the whole Palace and Kingdom of Corea. No more waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since the King told him that the traitor was still alive. He had prepared himself for such battles and so much more his whole life, but Yeong still had to admit that those particular few months of going back and forth the parallel worlds were absolutely bad for his stress levels and taking its toll on him, both physically and mentally.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Seung-ah turned on the screen of her tablet. “Can you meet me fifteen minutes before the gate opens? I have to freshen up and take care of some minor stuff first, but I still need to prep you.”

“Prep me for what?”

“The Royal Guards’ uniform,” she replied, but Yeong still didn't really follow.

The Palace Wardrobe Department had sent a notice to his office, regarding the guards’ dress code for the night. He had only glanced at it, because just like the year and many years before, the Royal Guards would wear their three piece suits for the night, including himself.

He belatedly realized that she should be talking about their ties.

Yeong gave out an involuntary shudder. “It’s not bow ties again this year, is it?”

Two years ago, Lady Noh had them all wear patterned bow ties, which he hated with a passion. He remembered looking at the photos plastered upon the Kingdom's newspaper the day after and feeling the strongest urge to sue the Head Court Lady for infringement of decent fashion sense.

He still kind of wanted to, to be honest.

Seung-ah laughed. “No, you have my word,” she said. “But I’ll have you know, you still looked extremely good in them, daejangnim.”

Yeong raised one of his eyebrows. He noticed that for some reason, Seung-ah had her gaze locked in on the general direction of his collarbones as she said that.

Yes, that is Myeong Seung-ah, Yeong thought. She was as direct as she always was.

And, well, Yeong had to admit that he really did not mind if she was, indeed, checking him out.

~

After taking a quick shower, Yeong returned to the Royal Guards' locker room to change.

It was currently empty. He supposed everyone had headed out towards their respective posts already. Yeong checked his watch to confirm that he still got about twenty minutes before the Palace gates were opened for the early arrivals.

The Captain put on his shirt, which was all white, just like the other Royal Guards on duty that night. He was in the middle of putting his earpiece on when Myeong Seung-ah came in, bringing a tray filled with tie selections and a large box with her.

“Why are you the only one to bring the ties?” he asked. He expected one of the palace maids to accompany her, but apparently, she came alone.

“Because none of the palace maids know how to do the Eldredge knot perfectly, while I do.” She should have registered the blank look on his face, because she continued with a small smile, apparently amused, “And because I also doubt you’ve even heard of it, daejangnim.”

The what knot, now?

“What’s wrong with Full Windsor?” He inquired. Yeong might not know too many knot varieties, he simply had no time. But at the very least, he knew that the Full Windsor was always a proper option.

“Nothing, but tonight is the first birthday party that the King shares with Lady Jeong, so he wants every little detail to be a bit more special. And, my Captain, the Eldredge knot is a work of art, that I can assure you." Yeong could clearly see that Seung-ah enjoyed teasing him. It was hard to overlook the mirth in her eyes as she uttered the last sentence.

“Miss Park In-young had chosen the Trinity knot, by the way, which looks fantastic on her.” Seung-ah had put down the tray on top of the box and was inspecting his vest and suit jacket, clearly looking for the best pattern or color that would match them best. “But you are the Captain, so you should have the most exquisite one.”

Seung-ah lifted her first choice. The tie was dark navy in color, with some sort of dragon-scale texture which gave out a subtle glimmer to the fabric. “What do you think, will this do?”

"Sure," he said. And he meant it, despite his monosyllabic answer.

For his day-to-day, he did not feel the need to be flashy, just immaculate, so he usually went for solid colors whenever he opted to wear one. Yeong had no objections to subtle patterned ties for special occasions, though, and the one that Myeong Seung-ah currently held screamed nothing but opulence, which he thought was highly appropriate for celebrating his King and best friend Lee Gon's birthday.

“Okay, please stand still,” she laughed at her own bad soldier jokes.

Standing in front of him, Seung-ah upturned his shirt collar and placed the tie around his neck before crossing its skinny end over the wide end at the front.

As she began to work, Yeong started to take note of their height difference. Myeong Seung-ah was not a tiny lady, but she was still a good fifteen or twenty centimeters shorter than him. He mostly saw only the top of her hair as her hands continued to weave the piece of fabric for him.

Her hair smelled nice, he thought. No, she smelled nice.

Yeong was fully aware of their proximity then.

After probably a minute or two and some initial loops, she leaned back to assess the moves she had made. “Okay, so far so good. It’s not too tight, is it?”

Is it not? Yeong felt the room got slightly warmer. “Hm,” was all he offered.

For some reason, Seung-ah grinned at his curt response, he did not know why. She tended to do that a lot, now that he really thought about it. It started to nag him.

Looking down, he watched her return to her task, carefully making some more loops and at one point pulling the skinny end and tightening it. She tugged the fabric with one hand as her other hand held the knot in place. Yeong doubted that she realized it herself, but apparently, when she was deeply concentrating on something, Myeong Seung-ah would produce a slight frown on her face and her lips form a tiny pout.

Yeong let out the tiniest smile.

Her eyes were even prettier from up close, he mused. She probably put something on for the night, because they gave out an extra sparkle-

"And…" his thought was interrupted by the lady in question, who in the meantime was moving her fingers close to his jugular. “I just have to hide the rest here, and we’re done.”

She finished the knot by tucking the rest of the skinny end of the tie behind his right neck loop.

After that, Seung-ah moved closer, closing the gap between them, as she needed to tiptoe a bit just so she could reach the backside of his collar in order to fold it down. Once she did, Yeong was hyper aware of how her hands brushed slightly over his collar, and then also his chest as she straightened his tie for the final touch.

Yeong blinked.

"There," she said, taking a step back to admire her handiwork, and the way she looked at him made him even more uncomfortable.

Did she just throw him a mischievous grin?

Her phone rang before he could respond.

Seung-ah quickly put it in silence as she apologized, “Oops, sorry, it’s my alarm. We gotta go!”

Her eyes darted around the room, and Yeong realized that she should be looking for someplace to change into her partywear for the night. She was indeed still wearing her pantsuit, and the large box she was carrying earlier should consist of her dress.

“Do you need somewhere to change?” he inquired.

Instead of directly answering, Seung-ah jumped straight into her own question. “Um, would you mind if I do it here? Can you turn?”

Yeong just nodded, then without saying another word, he turned on his heels and made a point to face the door, just as an extra precaution.

In the meantime, he continued to prep himself.

After checking his reflection on the mirror on his locker door (which was carefully angled to respect her privacy completely), Yeong could say that he very much approved of this so-called Eldredge knot. It looked highly intricate and lavish.

He soon reached for his own vest, which had bullet-resistant lining sewn inside, and started to put it on, while at the same time silently appreciating its convenience before he moved efficiently to put on his gun holder and suit jacket next.

He was about to turn on his communication line when Seung-ah’s voice called out from behind him.

“Daejangnim?” Her voice was hesitant. “Can you help zip me up?”

When Yeong turned, Seung-ah had her back to him, her hands busy trying to hold down her dress from flying open. She looked sideways at him with a sheepish expression on her face.

“I can only zip them up halfway,” she explained.

He could not help but stare at her dress. It was soft peach (he guessed), layered in laces, and flowing all the way to her ankles. It was not too tight, but he could tell that it should hug her figure nicely, even though he only saw it from the back and it was still in its unzipped state.

Yeong had to admit, that color looked totally good on her.

“Jo daejangnim?” she called him again when he did not respond. “Some help, please?”

“Oh, yes,” he finally moved to assist her.

He quickly identified where the hook and loop on her dress were located and united them. Then, he placed one of his hands where Seung-ah stopped zipping, careful not to touch her somewhere inappropriate, as his other one pulled up the zipper slowly. He carefully trained his gaze elsewhere except to her exposed skin the whole time.

When he’s done, Seung-ah spun to face him, and his breath hitched involuntarily.

“You look- wonderful,” he breathed out.

Seung-ah’s smile was wide. “You do too.” She looked at him from head to toe, and did not even bother to hide the appreciative look on her face.

Yeong took a step forward.

She stayed put. Her gaze upon him did not break at all. Instead, Yeong watched as she tucked her hair slowly and bit her lip as her gaze travelled down from his eyes to his lips, and then lingered on-

And, well, that was the last straw. Yeong simply could not help himself at that point.

He completely closed the gap between them in one long stride, and without saying anything else, he leaned down and claimed her lips with his own. 

And he really took his time with it.

~

Later on that night, the King and his soon-to-be Queen huddled together near the three-layered birthday cake that was slightly bigger than her. They finally had a moment to themselves after shaking hands and making small conversations with the guests all night.

Gon had his eyes trained on her best friend, who was currently standing beside Myeong Seung-ah with wine glasses on their hands. She was apparently saying something, then laughed at his response before putting her hand on the Captain's elbow. He, on the other hand, did not seem to mind that gesture at all.

Instead, the King watched as the Captain leaned close and then whispered something in the lady's ears. Lee Gon soon was flabbergasted, and also thrilled, when he saw the smile on Yeong's face.

"Yeong was late to my party - he's never been late to anything! - and now he's being like that? Do you see that? Tell me that you see that!"

“Told you, booze is magic,” Lady Jeong Tae-eul whispered conspiratorially. "And, well, this means I win, right, Birthday Boy?"

Beside her, the Monarch laughed a hearty laugh.

She might be onto something, because at that moment, one thing that the King was really certain of was that he would not get to resume his drinking session with Yeong that night after all.

~

Visual Ref: Yeong’s tie in the Eldredge knot / Seung-ah’s dress

[queen0fm0nsterz]

For the ship thing: all combinations between the main five from woy !!

OMG UAGAGAGKASIDSFSKUGHS WHY DIDN’T I ANSWER TO THIS BEFORE!?!?! OMG JHGJESG THANK U SO MUCH ANON THIS QUESTION SAVED MY LIFE????

Disclaimer: I’m a HUGE multishipper and I’m interested in all the ships I’m about to list. However I do have my preferences, so I’m going in order from my least favorite to my absolute fave. Don’t get upset, for this is only my opinion. Ty!!

LETS GO MAD LADS LETS GO!!!!

Bonus 11th ship: I’m really into Something The So and So x Emperor Awesome. I called it Something Awesome. Just putting this.. out there

10) Deathstar (Wander x Dom)

Ah, my two hyperactive spoons. Usually I’m all about the “perfect angel/literal spawn of satan” dynamic, but for some reason they never really clicked for me. Maybe it’s because they didn’t have that many interactions in canon??? But damn, the fanarts are super adorable!! i will die!! (death star shippers yall wanna come in my askbox and talk death star to me?? i would appreciate sm!!)

9) Wandering Eye (Wander x Peepers)

First of all I wanna say, y’all Wandering Eye shippers are perseverant af?? they had like one episode together and it was early first season, it’s been a lot since that. i respect you guys. As for the ship itself, what can I say? I love small boys being in love!!! But once again, nearly no canon interaction... smh

8) Astigmagmatism (Peepers x Dom)

THIS SHIP HAS SO MUCH COMIC POTENTIAL!!! I WILL SCREAM FOREVER I mean the angry smol and bastard tol dynamic?? PLUS theyre both villains???? as in evil fucks??? Who are also rivals?? If there were any canon interactions this ship would DEF be really high on my list but I don’t really have that much to say rn...

7) Zboneak (Hater x Sylvia)

Alright at first I wasn’t really into it but I got my filthy hands on one (1) fanfic and you can bet your ass I was immediatly captivated. The thing I look for in Woy ships is comic potential and these two have SO MUCH POTENTIAL. Plus, “The Date” is one of my favorite episodes ever, so yeah. add that to the list. Let them interact in season 3!!!

6) Death Glare (Peepers x Hater)

I TAGGED THE NO HOMO BECAUSE IM 100% THAT HATER WOULD SAY IT TO PEEPERS AFTER ACCIDENTALLY KISSING HIM IM SO SORRY

Ok so, Death Glare. At first, until late first season, I wasn’t into it at all. I’ve never been a big fan of boss/subordinate (saving a few exceptions). The episode “The Funk” made me do a complete 180° becAUSE HOLY SHIT DID YOU SEE THEM??? HOLDING HANDS???????? BRUH MY FUCKING HEART HAS BEEN D E S TR O Y E D...................... And while I do love them as a friendship, I can totally see them romantically!!!! also once again the comic potential

5) Sylander (Sylvia x Wander)

THESE TWO WHERE DO I EVEN START. I literally tear up when I think about them? Platonic or not, their love is so pure, innocent, real, it makes my heart do backflips. You have no idea how many times I cried watching them. When they’re together you can’t tell where one begins and the other finishes .... but the reason why I’m so attached to them is because I happen to have a person in my life that... she’s the Sylvia to my Wander (hey @awesome---disaster talkin to you).  I understand how it feels to have someone this important in your life. The episode “The Ryder” is particularly hard to wacth (despite it being my number one favorite) for this reason. GOD THE TEARS I CRIED.

4) Sylava (Sylvia x Dom)

What can I say? I stan girls being in love. Plus the CHEMISTRY they had in “The Night Out” omg.... I JUST FDSHFHLGLHSLLIHSBLIHSLI MY HEART EXPLODES WHEN I THINK ABOUT THEM???? I CRY  THEY WERE F U CK I NG HOLDING HANDS WHILE RUNNING OUT OF THAT BAR OK DO NOT TOUCH ME. when are we getting the good season 3 sylava content when they make up and become friends again? disney pls

Also, y’all got some good Sylava fics that I could read? Blease?? im starving

3) Skeleton Dance (Wander x Hater)

IS THERE EVEN SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T LOOK AT THIS SHOW FROR LIKE 5 SECONDS AND D O E S N T SHIP THEM???? ITS IMPHASBLE

iM TALKING VALID BOYS HERE!!! The sweet smol/ grumpy tol is my aestethic always and Im all about it. Plus, I mean the dEVELO P MENT THEY HAD IN SEASON TWO!!! The episode that got me to ship them strongly was “The Buddies” and God my love kept growing from there????? ITS UNSTOPPABLE EVERYTIME I SEE THEM MY HEART KILLS ME

 Ok I will admit im kinda projecting on Wander a little bc I love Hater but can u blame?? me?? who doesnt love the hate man

2) Dom n Hater (Hater x Dom)

Ok if youve been on my blog for like 1 minute you probably already know that these two are the light of my life, but why?

... well tbh there are a lot of reasons but to be quick it was a gradual process of me going from “Yeah right like THATS ever gonna happen” to slowly going on to “I mean its not even that bad” to “It’s cute? I like it” and then it fucking skyrocketed out of my control and suddently I’m crying like a little bitch during “You’re the Greatest”. I do not know what happened or how. It just did. 

I have an ask of someone asking me about them (BLESS U MAN) that inm going to answer eventually so I’m not going into detail but I WILL SAY that the height difference kills me bc it’s not that much but it’s jUST ENOUGH to make it obvious that hes shorter than her and im just oudfgusguaigGUivfehuhaf i live for height differences

1) Black Eye (Sylvia x Peepers)

AND AT LAST I GET TO TALK ABOUT MY BABIES

I’ll be honest with y’all: I was actually gonna put Black Eye in second place at first bc Hater & Dom just own my hear,t but upon lots of thinking I belive this is the best option. because DEVELOPMENT. God I’m all about that sweet DEVELOPMENT we got!!! Wander and Sylvia may be the perfect friendship but Sylvia and Peepers are sure as hell the PERFECT TEAM!!!!!! BRAINS AND MUSCLES!!! TOGETHER!! TO SAVE THEIR IDIOTS!!

I am a BIG fan of enemies to friends to lovers, height differences, villain/hero, smol/tol, angry/chill...... these two were a gift from the Gods. I love them so much.

On an unrelated but kinda related note, I love how all Blackeye shippers just silently agreed that Peepers is a lovestruck nerd who can’t process his feelings and refuses to acknowledge them despite how hardly he’s pinning after Syl?? AND SYL IS NOT OBLIVIOUS AT ALL SHE ACTUALLY KNOWS???? its amazing. 10/10 best ship thank u for ur time.

And thats that! Wow that sure took long didnt it- but its here.

[tisfan]

Earth Girls are Easy

@rarepairsevents

Prompt: #8 - Carol comes across a truly lost human on her travels. Darcy was just doing her job when the bifrost went off. Now they’re on the weirdest intergalactic road trip. Bonus points if: bed sharing while mutual pining on an alien planet.

Carol Danvers/Darcy Lewis

Tag: Meet awkward, earth girls in space

Summary - Carol gets contracted to give a Terran a lift home. Cons: the pay sucks, Quill is an asshole, and the Collector’s been giving the girl a place to stay. Pros: She’s damn cute.

“Vers!” Someone bellowed across the Promenade. 

Carol Danvers resisted the urge to immediately blast him. She’d been Vers for a mere six years with the Kree, and working under her own name -- or sometimes Captain Marvel, named after her Kree mentor and friend -- for almost twenty. You’d think some aliens would get the fucking memo already.

“Vers, hi, how are you?”

“Carol,” she said.

“What, no, my name’s Peter--”

“MY name is Carol.”

“Oh, right, okay, yeah, the-- the thing, with the Kree, yeah, you know, I really hate those guys,” Quill said.

“What do you want, asshole?”

“So, like you’re from Terra and I’m from Terra, and I thought, maybe, one Terran to the other, you could do me a little, tiny favor.”

“No.” That was easy. She started to walk away.

(more below the cut)

“Look, no, I’ll give you a cut,” Quill said. He was jogging to keep up with her, because her leave-me-the-fuck-alone stride was pretty damn fast. She had to give him credit for perseverance, but out of a perverse sense of humor, she kept walking until he was out of breath and sweating. He still hadn’t gone away.

“Of what?”

“The job,” Quill said. “Look, I got us a job, and then a really sweet opportunity fell into our laps and--”

“You already made a commitment and then something bigger came along, you can’t do both at the same time, even though you’ve already said you would, and now you’re hoping that I’m an idiot and I’ll do your first job for you, for half the price. Keep dreaming, Star Lord.”

“It’s an easy job,” Quill protested. “Look, you can have seventy percent, consider the other thirty a finder’s fee.”

“I’m gonna break your ‘finder’ right off and shove it someplace unpleasant if you put your hand on me, so don’t,” Carol said. “What’s the job?”

“Just drop this girl off on Terra, okay? She’s super lost.”

It had to be a girl, right? It couldn’t be some white male asshole lost in space that she wouldn’t feel a hint of guilt at neglecting. Carol sighed. “Where is she?”

“Great, you won’t regre--”

“Zzzt. Shut up. The only thing out of your mouth better be a location and the amount of units you’re going to be handing me. Otherwise, I’m gonna blast you into next week, and then you’ll miss out on both jobs.”

“She’s at the Collector’s,” Quill squeaked. “And fifteen Asgardian urus. She didn’t have units.”

“Urus will do,” Carol said, practically. Urus had a better trade value in some of the outer rim systems. “And what, do you not like her? Why leave her there?”

“You said not to talk!” And Quill smacked his faceplate down, clicked his rocket boots, and flew off like a slightly paranoid Dorothy Gale. Asshole. Honestly, Carol was never sure if Quill was an asshole on purpose just because it kept people from having expectations of him, or, if like, his emotional growth had gotten stunted at age eight.

Decided she didn’t care, Carol changed her trajectory just enough to be pointed in the general direction of the Collector’s. 

At least she was one of the few people who could just barge in on him. He wasn’t exactly afraid of her, but she wasn’t afraid of him, either. They were sort of, not quite, equals in a way where both of them thought they’d win if it came to a throw down, and neither of them disliked the other enough to try it.

“Hey Taneleer,” she bellowed, slipping lightly between the displays. “I hear you got a package for me?”

“Do I? I was just thinking I might keep her. Earthlings are so delicate, they just don’t survive very long.”

“Yeah, yeah, your coat is lovely by the way, where did you get it?” She pushed into Taneleer’s personal space. “Give me the girl.”

“Right, one human woman, coming right up--” the Collector said, brushing down his coat, which appeared to, in fact, be alive. Gross. “Miss Lewis, if you please. This is Captain Marvel. She’ll be taking you home.”

The woman who Taneleer coaxed out of the corner was pretty in a coffee-shop, slam poet, studying to be a CPA on the side, and volunteering at the dog shelter on the weekends.

Oh, I am in so much trouble.

“Miss Lewis,” Carol said. 

“Darcy, Darcy is fine, I’m-- yeah, nice to meet you.”

“You can call me Carol.”

Both Taneleer’s bushy eyebrows went up.

So much trouble.

*

“So, you’re a human,” Darcy said. Like when she was walking near Thor -- she never walked with Thor, Thor was a one man show, and sometimes he let other people accompany him -- she had to practically run to keep up. “Do I even want to know how you got to space?”

“I was kidnapped,” Captain Carol Marvel thingie said, not looking around. 

“Lot of that going around, that’s the same thing that Star Guy said, and I know Jane’s been to space a few times, but usually Thor takes her. It’d be nice, I think, if there were some humans who got to space by themselves, don’t you? I feel so-- unadvanced.”

“Humans are, compared to the larger galaxy,” Carol said, “rather primitive.”

“Fuck you. We have great margaritas,” Darcy sniffed. “Around here they have random varieties of ‘we distilled this shit next to our power core and it probably won’t kill you.’”

“I’ll give you that much,” Carol said. “I haven’t been to a decent bar in… well, probably longer than you’ve been alive.”

“You don’t look that much older than me,” Darcy said. She was, however, familiar with gods, and their age issues. Thor was something around fifteen hundred years old, or the rough equivalent of a soccer mom. Of course, by that notion, Loki was all of sixteen or so, and the more Darcy thought about that, the more logical it seemed. Loki had all the sense and restraint of an angry white boy with daddy issues and a gun, and the Asgardians did seem to be the primeval angry white boys.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Carol said, “although, not possibly as old as you’re now thinking. I was born on Earth in 1966, standard planetary time.”

“There is exactly no way you’re twenty years older than I am,” Darcy spluttered. “Not with an ass like that.”

Carol looked over her shoulder. “What’s wrong with my ass.”

“Not a damn thing,” Darcy said. “And I’ve seen Tony Stark up close, so believe me when I say, I know a fine ass when I see one.”

“Tony Stark? Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Iron Man? Earth’s greatest defender? How long have you been gone?”

“Since ‘89, with a brief visit in 1995 to deal with some alien issues.”

“We had aliens back in the 90s? Well, that explains some things,” Darcy said. Really, nothing surprised her anymore.

“Quill is half alien,” Carol said, “and his mom popped out that delightful ass in the eighties or thereabouts. So you’ve had aliens on Terra that I personally know about since the mid seventies. And the Asgardians were there centuries ago. Face it, little green men are a thing, and probably always have been.”

“What even is my reaction to that supposed to be?” Darcy demanded, trotting to catch up, because Carol had stopped listening and was striding off toward… well, Darcy hoped it was her ship, or something. She was used to it, though. Being left behind. Forgotten. She wasn’t very interesting, or very smart, or very beautiful. She was a mostly normal-thank-you-very-much human grad student who was going to have a lot of freaking college loans to pay off. Which was why she kept putting off actually graduating, because at least being Jane’s assistant paid some bills and kept her in kitchen and booze funds.

It also ended up with her being accidentally zotted to the other end of the galaxy when one of Jane’s experiments either went drastically wrong, or incredibly right. Hard to say, and she wouldn’t really know until she got home and found out of Jane had just popped off to a different party of the galaxy. And rest assured that Thor probably knew where she was and went after her. Which, it might not occur to them for a while that Darcy also needed to be rescued.

To be fair, Jane often managed to find trouble when she was out of line of sight, and getting popped of, she might have, for instance, immediately have stuck her pen into some swirly goo and gotten infected with Bad Space Things. You know, just saying.

Not like it had ever happened before.

“So,” she said, when she finally caught up, panting for breath, because, damn, in addition to having a killer ass, Carol also apparently had increased lung capacity. Well, Darcy might be able to make use of that if she was going to entertain the idea of getting funky with a space diva. And she just might consider it. “Sounds like you’ve been missing the bar scene for a while, and maybe a drink or two, and cheese sticks? Want to hit the Applebees when we get back? I mean, I know it’s basic and everything, but I don’t get paid all that often and their happy hour is--”

“Don’t you have fifteen Uru? At least?” Carol stopped walking and Darcy slammed into her, and they engaged in a little rocking back and forth before Carol steadied them out.

“Well, yeah,” Darcy said. “I’ve got hundreds of them, Thor gives them to us all the time for stuff. But there’s no exchange rate on Earth for god-money.”

“How many do you have with you?”

“A hundred or so,” Darcy hedged. She’d told Quill she only had twenty because he’d looked very… untrustworthy.

“Right, we’ll hit up the exchange on our way out of the port,” Carol said. “Minus my delivery fee, of course.”

“Of course. Does that mean yes to a date?”

“If you have a hundred uru, you could probably buy the bar,” Carol said. “So, yes. Date. sounds fun. Do they still do karaoke on Earth?”

“Yass, Queen,” Darcy said, holding her hand up to be high fived and after a moment, Carol seemed to recall the custom. “What’s the exchange rate?”

Carol swiped a few gestures over her wrist, popping up a display holograph, which Darcy would think was really cool if she wasn’t actually in Goddamn space and had seen some actual motherfreaking aliens, thanks very much. “About six and a half to one.”

“Six hundred dollar’s isn’t bad, but it’s hardly buying real estate--”

“Six and a half thousand. To one Uru. So, about half a million dollars, or so, after processing fees.”

Darcy almost stopped breathing. “I have hundreds of those things at home,” she squeaked.

“So, yeah. Date?”

“Date.” She could think about the rest of it later. Like, when she was writing a check to pay off her student loans.

fin 

A/n - in the book, Dorothy Gale had silver shoes, and she could use them to fly, which is what Carol is thinking of here.

Earth Girls are Easy is an 80s movie staring Jeff Goldblum, so... make of that what you will

[quicktelling-blog]

Amira’s Vanished Hustle, Perceptions of Missed Opportunities, and What Everyone Should Consider About the Story So Far

[deep dive under the cut]

Some messages I got over the weekend were along the lines of: “No Damira again on Friday whew you must be heartbroken huh?” But, y’all, I wasn’t surprised. And to be completely honest, my reaction on Friday was very different from the ones I saw in the tag. Yeah, I was super happy for the adorable Amira and I was also side-eying the glaring absence of Carlos’s besties at his own housewarming -- but my main thought after the clip was: “LOL OH SHIT HERE WE GO.” Because in my mind Friday was an ENORMOUS RED FLAG that the only substantial thing left to do in Amira’s story arc is the cute Bon Voyage party to send her off on her dream trip. Even before this big POV shift happened, Druck hadn’t given us any reason to expect much more than that in her remaining plot, and I’ll elaborate on that here.

I don’t wanna jump to the conclusion that Druck can’t possibly stick the landing, because hey, they might! We have no clear idea what will happen between now and the final goodbye party, so maybe good things are coming that will subvert all of our worst imaginings! But I feel like this is a hinge point in the season to do a little reassessing of expectations... and to come clean about one big reason why I’ve mostly spoken superficially about this season up until now.

The very first red flag, for me, was when I realized Druck was planning to basically pretend Amira never had a job. That oversight might not seem like a big deal to most, and it’s not like her job was the first thing Druck ever made disappear unceremoniously (remember when Leonie and Sara had other close girl friends? lol) but to me it was a signal that my expectations for Amira’s story (based on her previous strong characterization) had maybe been too high. And I immediately felt a bit cheated.

Amira was already so fleshed out coming into her season. She was demanding, quick-witted, and nurturing. She was fiercely protective of her friends, and even more fiercely ambitious, with a willingness to work harder than anyone to get ahead in life. She was sunny but tough-shelled, with a well-established resistance to trusting any men. And, loving her as much as I do, I felt strongly that she deserved to have plenty of brand new story elements that reflected all those things. To have her own story shaped around her, rather than she herself being reshaped to fit Sana’s story.

But then it was finally her turn to shine, in a Summer season, when it would make perfect sense for her to be on a job grind to earn cash for her trip, and... she’s not working? Huh? She managed to work all through a tough school year, but not her free summer vacation? Why? Because of Druck’s low budget? Because they lacked cohesion in the writing process? Some combination of the two? Yikes. Who knows. But suddenly, nonsensically, they had flushed away the perfect framing to showcase her work ethic, her daily perseverance, and her varied interactions (good and bad) with lots of strange customers around Berlin.

It felt like a bad omen to me somehow. Which wasn’t a great mindset to start the season with. And that was the beginning of me trying very, very hard not to be confused and salty about every little thing I began to perceive as missed opportunities to give Amira a new kind of substance in her story.

For example: While David, Matteo, and Sam began having fun off-screen, working on an bold alien movie, Amira inexplicably had no involvement. She kinda scoffed at the idea when it came up on-screen, then immediately lost interest in the conversation because her man was texting. Fair enough, right? That scene was moving her story forward while generously giving a little shoutout to the meta insta storyline, right? The problem is: the off-screen story ended up seeming much more interesting than watching Amira chilling on her own texting a bunch, and we weren’t even given a reason for her to not be part of it after the whole crew was invited to join in. Imagine if we had followed her onto a shitty little makeshift movie set and seen her reacting to the chaos and strangeness of it. Imagine her finding a resourceful solution to a production hiccup or mediating a creative disagreement while trying to hide her own inner turmoil from her friends. And imagine her having an extremely important conversation with David (and/or Matteo and/or Sam) about the film’s deeper themes of alienation and otherness that they can both sadly relate to.

That’s just one weirdly specific scenario, but there are sooo many other ways I fantasized about Amira bonding with her friends (particularly the ones who aren’t cishet white kids or brand new characters). Talking with one or more of them about what it means to be dangerously marginalized, or to be afraid of letting someone get close to you, or to feel torn in two different directions in life. Maybe something like that could still happen before the season ends, but I’m not counting on it. And I think the time has passed for it to have the biggest impact. It could’ve been amazing (and really narratively useful!) if it happened before the resolution of Amira’s brief conflicts with Kiki, Erva, and Mohammed. We saw a lot of scenes with her looking angry and sad, but we weren’t really privy to much of her thought process during all that reflection, so it felt uncomfortably unearned when problems she once saw as insurmountable were shortly waved aside. I would’ve really appreciated even a short conversation with some good change-of-heart exposition.

And while other people were cheering about all the controversial Sana season conflicts being blessedly truncated or completely stripped away, the whole time I couldn’t stop thinking: “Okay, awesome, but what are they gonna replace that storyline with? Nothing?” And, for the most part, that seemed to be true.

But the problem clearly wasn’t limited to a shortage of well-integrated story threads with Amira at their center. It was arguably also a failure to capitalize on the stories they did use. Instead of getting to watch the emotional fight with her mother about punching someone, and witnessing Amira faced with the threat of losing Australia, we only heard about the drama afterward. Just like we only heard about her family’s religious holiday together. Just like we only got a few texts between Amira and Jonas about the refugee event. And just like how, as I sat typing this, Amira’s mother re-blessed the trip off-screen. On and on goes the list of examples of this unfortunate tell-don’t-show approach, and I’m sure a lot of it can be attributed to low budget and tricky cast scheduling, but the time limit excuse probably doesn’t apply if Amira’s main plot really has been efficiently pared down to 7 episodes.

Don’t get me wrong, I want to reserve final judgment on the season until the credits roll, and there are plenty of good things to say about it in the meantime. Yes, it’s been lovely to see so many gorgeous shots of Tua praying, and boxing, and expressing everything from attraction to anguish to helpless rage. Yes, she and Hassan both did some really strong work selling the magnetic pull between their characters, even in the face of (what I consider to be) an underdeveloped narrative that didn’t totally sell me on the relationship overall. Yes, it was wonderful to have some aesthetically pleasing scenes of the girl squad loving and supporting each other, even if they mostly talked about boys the way Amira hoped they wouldn’t. And obviously just having a story about a strong, kind, devoted hijabi girl is vitally important visibility. So I really haven’t wanted to say anything negative in the face of all that...

... but now I have to say: if you’re feeling cheated and mad about the POV shift, then take some time to consider what else specifically you think should’ve happened to Amira before we entered this resolution phase of her story. It seemed like most people were perfectly happy for her to not face any complex conflict, and not have any lingering hardship to dramatically and triumphantly overcome. Every obstacle getting a relatively swift and easy solution felt underbaked to me, but it was a big relief and source of praise for most people in the tags right up until Amira disappeared from clips. So: in hindsight, how would you have added not just length, but also more compelling drama and greater social impact to her story, so that the extra length felt well-used? It’s really worth thinking and talking about that, even if you’re hesitant to voice any criticism of Amira’s part of the story (even after the season ends, and even if it’s totally constructive) -- because thinking and talking about it is how we’ll get that kind of richer, fuller story in the future.

[guktwt]

dive: extras | 4

→ pairing: jeon jungkook | female reader → genre: fluff → tags/warnings: none!    → word count: 1.1k

→ summary: jungkook brings up plans after graduation. 

dive: extras is a collection of drabbles based on the dive couple. drabbles may be read as stand-alones and in no established order.

collection masterlist 

Today, you trade the familiar walls of the library for a few hours under the clear blue sky and refreshing Spring air. Jungkook had suggested taking your studying outside, saying that spending so much time indoors and under air-conditioned rooms is not exactly the healthiest way spending your days, but you know that’s just an excuse for him to drag you out of the building. He was right about one thing, though. Staying in the library too long felt suffocating. Straining. You got tired even after only two hours of revising and felt like your head was about to explode from all of the material you’ve consumed, so you weren’t exactly in a position to deny Jungkook’s proposition.

Your boyfriend had secured a spot right under a tree at the campus yard. Students loiter around the large open area, some huddled in groups talking and just trying to enjoy the afternoon breeze, while others are sprawled out on the grass with books laid out in front of them like you. But instead of your textbook on your lap, it’s Jungkook’s head using you as a makeshift pillow, your notes and laptop neglected on the side instead.

You should’ve known better than to expect any productivity whenever he’s around, but you can’t even bring yourself to think about your studies anymore. It feels too nice out, so you play with your boyfriend’s hair instead, threading your fingers through his locks just how he likes.

“Do you have any plans after graduation?” Jungkook asks. His hands toy with a flower he had mindlessly picked from the ground.

“I don’t know. Wanna do something that still lets me work with pictures.” You’re trying to keep your options as you look for possible job positions. Freelancing is always an option, but it’s too risky in the sense that there’s no guarantee it’ll give you anything. Frankly, you haven’t thought about it much since your schedule has been so hectic lately. Your mind has been on nothing but assignments, exams, more assignments, and your thesis. “What about you?”

“Coach thinks I should go professional, but I have no clue how much swimmers make a year. And what if it’s not swimming season? What am I supposed to do then?”

“But you love swimming.”

“I do. Just feel like I should keep my options more open. There’s so much I haven’t tried yet. I could try to get into graphic design. Or take up my dad’s offer on working at his tech company. He’d probably love that a lot.”

It’s not often that you hear him sound this doubtful. The everyday Jungkook that everyone knows is nothing short of confidence and perseverance. He might not have his life planned to the detail but he was known for knowing what he’s good at and making the most out of it for his benefit.

“Hey, it’s good that you’re thinking about other factors like wage, but you’ve still got time to experiment. No one’s asking you to make a decision tomorrow. Graduation’s months away and we still have to get through our exams and thesis first. We’ve got time.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Guess I’m just overthinking.”

“Whatever you decided to do you’re gonna be great at it. You’re good at everything.”

“I feel like that’s biased.”

You smile. “It might be, but it’s the truth.”

“What if one of us gets a job somewhere far away? Or, y’know, decide to go overseas for masters.”

It’s also something you’ve been thinking about lately, especially after your supervisor had recommended for you to apply for a job at a company she had worked at for a while after getting her degree. The company is small but growing, and she’s willing to put in a good word for you if you ever decide to work there. The only problem is that it’s located in Busan.

The thought of being separated from Jungkook kills you. You don’t doubt how much you care about him at all, these past few months with him having been the best you’ve ever had despite a tight schedule, and you admit that no boy has ever been in your life the way he has before. It hasn’t even been that long, but Jungkook has managed to make you fall and you fell so damn hard that you’ve forgotten what it’s like to go about your days without him.

“You’re thinking too far ahead.” It’s good that he is. It means that he actually cares about where he’s going to go, cares about what’s going to become of you and him in the future. You admit that it’s a lot to think about and you’re not really in the mood for any of it, so you grab Jungkook’s hand and give it a light squeeze, a means to say I’m here now.

Your boyfriend sighs. “Yeah. Sorry. We still got a long way to go.”

“And you’re stuck with me until the end of it.”

He kisses you softly then, lips barely grazing yours but you’re still left with a tingle. Even after months, being with him makes you feel so light, fuzzy, and warm all over. It hits you then. As Jungkook lays his head back on your lap and starts humming the tune to a song you can’t recognize, a thought sits in the back of your head, something you think you want to tell him but never sure if it’s the right time. The last time you had told a boy you loved him you were seventeen and high on your silly school-girl crush on the school’s captain of the basketball team (you always had a thing for athletes). That was before you truly knew anything, before failed relationships, before sex and meaningless hookups because heartbreaks do heal but never completely.  

“Jungkook,” you start. Your stomach does a flip, already nervous for what’s about to come out of your mouth.

Jungkook stops humming. “Hm?”

Is it too soon? Is he going to say it back? He’s thrown the word around before through text but you know he was just playing around. A simple “i <3 you” before going to bed doesn’t weigh as much if you say those three words to him now, right after you two just had a rather serious topic of conversation for the first time. Just when you think you it together, your words die on the tip of your tongue and you chicken out.

“Nevermind. I forgot what I was going to say.”

Jungkook doesn’t press further. He just grabs your wrist and guides your hand to his head, shutting his eyes when your fingers are on his scalp once again.

He said it himself, you’ve still got a long way to go. Later. You’ll tell him later.

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

Sweet Dreams Chapter Six

Lucid dreaming: The process of being aware that one is dreaming. Some researchers believe that in lucid dreaming, the individual may be able to change the outcome of the dream or control their degree of participation in the imaginary (dream) environment.

Description: Lee Eunbyul has been plagued with hellish nightmares since she was a child. Not the sort of nightmares you may be familiar with. There are no monsters to evade, no serial killers to outrun, no auditoriums of classmates in front of whom to stand naked. Instead there is just…darkness. Endless darkness. With professional help, the dreams come less frequently. But after moving away from home to live with her sister, Eunbyul’s nightmare returns, only this time it’s different. This time…she’s not alone.

What would you do if you had the chance to change the outcome of not only your dreams, but your life?

Genre: Romance, Drama, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn

Pairing: Namjoon x (f) OC

Word Count: 7.2k

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Producer!Namjoon, Bookstore Clerk!Seokjin, Potter!Jimin, Producer!Yoongi, Dancer!Hoseok

Warnings: Frequent mentions of mental illness, infrequent swearing and mentions of alcohol

A/N: Hey guys! Here’s the newest chapter~ I hope you guys are enjoying this series! I’m really enjoying writing it. This chapter in particular was v fun to write. Anyway, I hope everybody is resting enough these days! Please don’t be shy and send feedback, critique, questions, theories, and comments my way. I’ll be sure to respond to all asks I receive within a day of receiving them!

And again, if you want to follow my Twitter, my username is @/plzpunchmebts. I’m super active over there and hopefully in the future I’ll do some livestreams/chats with you all!

- Mercury

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Masterlist

Weekly updates: Sunday, 1PM (PST)

Namjoon

“K-i-m-N-a-m-j-o-o-n-.”

I startled a little and rubbed my eyes, squinting at the person who’d roused my attention. Jisoo stood beside my desk, furry brows raised. It had been a few days since he’d bothered to check on me, and seeing the look on his face now I was sure he regretted not coming sooner.

“Been trying to get you to notice for a minute, dude,” he said, patting my shoulder as he raised a mug of hot coffee to his lips. He stared over my shoulder at the monitor before me. “You making good progress with the commercial soundtrack?”

I swallowed hard and stared at the half-finished track on Cubase. Uninspired. The project window was home to several presets from the preloaded packs on the software, nothing like what I’d use at home on my own. It sounded fine so far, or as fine as it could. But there was no heart in it, not really. Instead, it sounded as hollow as it did commercial. I was sure the client would like it. What concerned me, really, was finding the strength to finish it.

“Uh, yeah. Should be done by tomorrow,” I said, and even my voice was lackluster. I pinched my nose bridge and rubbed circles, squeezing my eyes shut.

“You okay?” asked Jisoo, but it was clear from his tone that he was only halfway interested.

“Yeah, fine,” I said, waving a hand. “I’m cool. Just…tired I guess.”

He hummed. “Gotta sleep well if you wanna be a producer.”

I nodded, but couldn’t help but think of Yoongi. He was working as a real producer, and there wasn’t a single night in recent memory when I could remember him going to sleep before the sun rose.

“Thanks, Boss,” I said, offering a smile.

He patted my shoulder. “Take care of yourself, okay? We can’t afford to lose you,” he said with a laugh. It was the uneasy sort of chuckle you give someone when you want them to reassure you.

I nodded. “I don’t have anywhere else to go anyway,” I said as he smiled and walked back out to the floor. I sighed and again pinched my nose bridge.

“Hey,” said Jungkook from his desk, staring at me with knitted brows. “You really don’t look so good.”

I smiled and waved my hand. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Saying that makes me more worried,” he said, resting a round cheek in his hand. “What’s going on with you? For real?”

I inhaled sharply and sighed, shutting my eyes. “Just…I dunno, I feel kinda sick today I guess. Haven’t been sleeping well, and I woke up…forget it, alright? I’m fine.”

“No, keep going,” said Jungkook, and coming from anyone else I might have thought he was teasing me. But this was Jungkook anyway, and he only seemed to know how to be sincere. He kept his eyes on me.

I shrugged. “Woke up kinda sad.”

Jungkook raised his brows. “Huh?”

“Forget it.”

He shook his head. “No reason for it?”

I thought a moment, puzzled. “Well…it’s not like usual, you know? Like when you just feel sad and you can’t really diagnose it,” I said, nodding. “It feels like there’s something really important that I’m missing.”

Jungkook hummed. “Maybe it has to do with work?” he offered, tilting his head with a sigh. “We all know working here isn’t your number one choice.”

I quieted down, staring at the project on my screen with furrowed brow. While I was sure it wasn’t something so simple, that the real cause was still evading me, his words unsettled me. “Maybe…,” I said, shaking my head.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone, typing a message as quickly as I could before returning to the track.

Namjoon: Hey, Hoseok. Haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Wanna go to the beach?

Hoseok: huhuhu…u gonna collect crabs the whole time?

Namjoon: …

Namjoon: Crabs are fascinating…

Hoseok: looooooooooooool

Hoseok: nerd

Hoseok: i’m in either way :-D

I sat crouched on the shore, poking my index finger into the little holes I saw along the sand. Every now and then, something would bulge and shift beneath the sand’s surface, a sign of life. Smiling, I worked my thumb beneath one of the bumps.

“I thought I said no crabs,” grumbled Hoseok as he licked his popsicle. The thing was already staining his tongue and lips violet.

I hummed as I grabbed a small crab from under the wet sand. “You did say that,” I said with a chuckle as I smoothed the pad of my finger along the crab’s back. I flipped it over in my hand and presented it to Hoseok. “See this plate right here?” I asked, pointing to the smooth shell of the crab’s stomach. “That means it’s a female!”

“I don’t care,” said Hoseok with a heavy sigh.

He leaned back on his palms, three separate leashes hooked around his wrists. The dogs themselves were behaving well enough. The golden retriever was resting his blonde head against his paw, eyebrows shifting as he looked around the beach. The collie panted beneath the unrelenting sun, laying on her stomach with her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. And the pug simply sat on Hoseok’s lap, eyes shut.

I set the crab back down and crawled over to where Hoseok sat with his legs extended in front of him, taking up an entire blanket by himself. I smiled and collapsed beside his thigh. “Feels good to get out.”

Hoseok sighed and, with his free hand, gave my upper arm a firm smack. “Because you never get out to begin with,” he scolded.

I laughed. “Not all of us can be dog walkers.”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t have what it takes,” he said with a sigh, biting off a chunk from his melting popsicle. “Endurance, perseverance, patience, understanding-,”

“Are you saying you have all of those things?” I teased, glancing at him over my shoulder. I laughed as he reached a hand out to hit me again. “Sorry!”

As my laughter died down, I felt Hoseok’s gaze boring into my skin and, uneasy, I turned to face him properly. His narrow eyes seized on me, scrutinizing. “You seem weird,” he remarked with a cocked brow.

I inhaled quick, ready to refute him, but as soon as I met his inquiring eyes my breath escaped in a sigh end I rubbed my forehead. “I’m…not myself lately.”

He patted my back with an open palm. “Anything I can do?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so,” I said. “It’s been building for a few days. Things just…aren’t settling right for some reason. In my head, I mean.”

“Hm…,” began Hoseok, chomping down on his popsicle as he gazed out at the waves. “I wonder if there’s one cause.”

“Probably not,” I said with a soft smile. “Never is just one thing.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m fine,” I said, nodding once as I swept my eyes out across the glittering ocean horizon. “Honestly.”

“Mhm,” said Hoseok as the pug on his lap stretched, letting out a yawn. He rubbed its back, a fond smile on his face. “You know, dogs are pretty clever.”

“Huh?” I asked, turning to face him.

He chuckled and nodded. “Might not look like it right now,” he said with a pointed look at the panting collie. “But they’ve got shit figured out.”

I smiled. “How so?”

“Well…for one thing, they understand the value of a pack. A close circle to watch their backs,” he said, nodding. “They’re loyal, won’t ever intentionally hurt someone they love.”

“I guess.”

“They’re honest.”

I raised my brows, eyeing him. “Hm?”

He was still stroking the sleepy pug’s back, smiling gently. “They don’t know how to be any other way. They don’t know how to pretend.” He lifted only his eyes to meet mine. “When they’re upset, they can’t lie and say they aren’t.”

I stiffened. “Well…they can’t speak.”

He laughed. “That’s not what I mean,” he said, easily leaning back on his palm once more, watching as sugary purple syrup began trailing down his forearm. “They can’t put on a brave face and go about their day like nothing’s wrong. When a dog’s upset, they howl. And they keep howling until they feel better.”

I exhaled slowly. His words weren’t lost on me. I knew well what he was trying to say. And as I took a look at him over my shoulder, I could see from the way his eyes implored me how deeply he wanted me to understand. I gave a smile and nodded.

“Sometimes you gotta just let yourself howl, Joon,” he said, lifting the dripping remains of his popsicle to his mouth and biting it whole. He pocketed the messy stick — much to my dismay — and patted his legs, moving the pug so he could stand. “What do you say I show you someplace cool?”

Me, Hoseok, and three panting dogs enter a pottery store, I thought to myself as Hoseok began calling for the quaint shop’s owner, like bulls in a china shop. The dogs took to sniffing every crevice and corner they could reach, pushing damp noses against delicate pots, pawing at shelf legs, scratching the many ornate rugs on the floor. I watched with a cringe as the golden retriever began jumping beside one of the organized shelves, likely trying to explore the higher levels.

Hoseok corrected the dog with a soft jerk of the leash and continued calling. “Jimin! Park Jimin!”

“Jesus!” called someone from the back of the shop. From the doorway there emerged a young, wide-eyed, flushed guy with a messy apron and knitted brows. He scanned the floor and saw the pups wandering about, immediately wincing. “Jung Hoseok! I told you to stop bringing the dogs!”

Hoseok laughed and shortened the retriever’s leash, wrapping it around his wrist once more. “They’re behaving!”

“Behaving — my ass,” said the young boy, grumbling as he rubbed his forehead. “If any one of them puts their cute little snouts into any of my vases and knocks it over, you’re paying double.”

Hoseok smirked. “Don’t act like you aren’t happy to see them,” he teased.

Jimin opened his eyes with a sigh, brows still furrowed. “I’d be happier if I saw them outside.”

“Heh,” breathed Hoseok, petting the collie on her head. “Anyway, Jimin this is my friend Namjoon.”

Jimin’s eyes slid over to meet mine and he blinked a few times. “That’s a tall friend,” he remarked. He wiped his right hand on his apron a few times and took a half step toward me to shake hands. I took it with a smile. “Nice to meet you,” he said gently.

I nodded. “Likewise.”

“Now you,” said Jimin, pointing a small, accusing finger at Hoseok. “Didn’t I tell you to warn me when you decide to come over?”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Do we have to do that among friends?”

“Shut up,” said Jimin, crossing his arms. “I was in the middle of glazing and now my employee’s gotta do it on her own.”

“You got an employee?” asked Hoseok, clearly surprised.

Jimin paused for a moment before smirking. “Mhm,” he said, smug. “And she’s pretty good too. Really interested in pottery.”

Hoseok scoffed. “Don’t tell me…,” he began.

Jimin raised his brows. “Hm?”

“You didn’t hire her because she’s cute, did you?”

Jimin laughed and patted his leg. “Ah, well…it’s not like she’s not cute,” he began, then sighed and shook his head. “Nah. I just…wanted to give her something to do, I guess.”

The words hit me strangely. Was this employee wandering too? Curiosity began to grow in my stomach. “Anyway,” continued Jimin. “How do you two know each other? I’ve been stuck with you since diapers and I’ve never met your tall friend,” he said, eyeing me sidelong with a smirk.

I cleared my throat. “Uh, I had extended family out here, so I visited often as a kid. He lived near my grandma’s house, so we played as kids.”

“He moved here in elementary school. We were in the same year, so we hung out more,” said Hoseok, waving his hands. “Anyway, if you’d gone to our school instead you would’ve known before.”

Jimin laughed. “I also wouldn’t have been bullied,” he joked. I stiffened. Was that something he could be so nonchalant about? “Gotta laugh so you don’t cry, right?” he asked me once he noticed my reaction. He chuckled. “Ah, but what did you want anyway, Hoseok? I can’t really leave my employee by herself too long.”

“Cheeky,” said Hoseok and Jimin only rolled his eyes. “I figured you could show Namjoon how you make pottery.”

“You want a demo?” asked Jimin, dry.

Hoseok nodded. “Mhm.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“With no warning?”

Hoseok pursed his lips. “I figured a great potter like you could do it on the spot…”

“Ugh,” mumbled Jimin, running a messy hand through his hair. He glanced between me and Hoseok a few times, jaw locked, before sighing. “Alright, let me tell Eunbyul first.”

“Eunbyul?” I asked, and the name fell off my tongue in a way that felt…familiar.

He nodded. “My employee. She can handle it on her own, but I don’t know if she knows that,” he said with a laugh. “Just give me a second.”

Jimin turned on his heel and jogged back through the doorway in the back and, unable to deny my curiosity, I followed behind and peeked my head in. Although the place was big and fairly organized, there were large pieces of machinery blocking my view of Jimin. But nonetheless I could see the back of a girl’s head, slightly shorter than him, waving dark hair restrained with an old newspaper rubber band. She nodded once and glanced down at the tray of freshly glazed cups in her hands. I couldn’t hear her, but Jimin smiled and gave her shoulder a squeeze. She seemed to sigh before turning and walking quickly to the kiln. With her back still facing me, she set the tray down and grabbed cups in both hands, placing them in the kiln. It took her all of thirty seconds to get all two dozen in, and as she turned and strode toward the vat beside the massive kiln, I watched a few stray strands of hair loose themselves from her rubber band.

I glanced down at my wrist, at the hair elastic I’d nearly forgotten about, and briefly considered offering it to her. But she seemed busy as she dipped chalky cups into the glaze, pulling them out shiny. She set them aside one by one, and there was something oddly confident and precise about her motions. Even the way she used the front of her wrist to push the locks of waving hair behind her ear seemed exact, focused.

Strangely, I found myself envying her.

And, as I watched her back, I felt the unmistakable sensation of an under-the-skin kind of itch, the kind you can’t scratch, even if you try your hardest.

Jimin approached and grinned at me. “Checking out my employee?” he teased.

I flushed and turned away quickly. “I didn’t even see her face,” I said, pouting a little.

He laughed and clapped my shoulder. “Let’s do this demo.”

And it hit me as Jimin began setting up the potter’s wheel and clay. Wordlessly, I sat down on the stool beside Hoseok and the dogs and fished around in my pocket for my phone. I yanked it out and pulled up my photos, scanning them. Sure enough, that photo I snapped at Hyejin’s the other day. The girl with the baseball cap. I saw her, sandy skin barely visible beneath the brim of her hat, Somi’s shoulder in the foreground, the girl drowning in clothes several sizes too big.

“That girl…,” I said, thinking aloud as I stared down at the photo.

Jimin turned his eyes to me and smiled. “Hm?”

“I…I’ve been seeing her everywhere lately,” I said, chuckling.

Hoseok sighed and leaned over his lap to get a better look at the shapeless clay Jimin was beginning to mold. “Make it into Justin Trudeau.”

Jimin paused a moment and squared his gaze on Hoseok. “The Canadian prime minister?”

Hoseok nodded. “Yeah. Do it.”

Jimin sighed and shook his head, not even bothering to respond, as I took turns looking at the photo on my phone and at Jimin’s deft hands working the clay carefully. It was impossible to explain, but the way he moved was inexplicably similar to that girl. Perhaps because she was his employee…

But that didn’t seem right.

It was more that they were both endowed with the same nameless quality.

A precision that only comes from—

“Passion,” said Hoseok in a whisper, leaning over to me.

I flushed, my attention now entirely on Jimin as he molded the clay into the vague shape of a flowerpot. “Huh?”

“That’s what makes Jimin so…,” he began, then chuckled. “It’s what makes him so Jimin.”

I was quiet for a moment. “I see,” I said. I might have been nervous that Jimin would overhear us talking about him if it weren’t for the unwavering focus captured in his eye. He probably wouldn’t have even heard an earthquake. “It’s mesmerizing.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Mhm,” he said. “Reminds me of when we were in high school.”

I raised a brow with a smirk. “How so?”

He hummed. “I remember during study hall, you’d always have your laptop out,” he said, laughing. “Mr. Kang hated it.”

I smiled softly. “Yeah. Told him it was for class president duties.”

“But all you did was make beats.”

I was quiet for a moment. Again, I understood what he meant. It was hard not to with a guy like Hoseok. As kind as he was, he was equally clever. He knew how to say something without saying it. I turned to him and we locked eyes. Instead of speaking, I just nodded my head and offered a smile. He returned it, patting my knee.

“Thanks,” I said as Jimin finished up with the main body of the pot. It was gorgeous, an elegant, long shape that tapered toward the bottom. Looked like the kind of pot you’d put a bonsai in.

“For what?” asked Hoseok, feigning ignorance with wide eyes.

I chuckled, squeezing his shoulder. “Just thanks.”

Cubase. God it had been a while since I’d used it on my home computer.

I sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, staring at the project as evening slowly became night. Yoongi still wasn’t back from work, likely putting in long hours finishing up that big collaboration he’d been working on for months. He wouldn’t tell me who it was with, but his excitement told me enough to know it was big.

I rested my cheek in my hand and sighed, tapping my fingertips against the coffee table. The song was nice, kind of slow. It felt a bit…melancholy but still hopeful. I shut my eyes and thought a moment. Could use vocals.

Quietly, I flipped through my lyric book and paused on a single word. Everythingoes. Written sloppily in the margins of a song I’d never finished. I cocked a brow. Back when I was younger, going to therapy, the doctor had told me something to that effect. Everything goes. Every moment, every pain, every trauma. I sat up straighter. Something about it rolled nicely, both in English and Korean. The lyrics beside it were meant to go with it. Perhaps if I recorded myself with Yoongi’s mic…

I changed a few things around, added some lines where I felt the words weren’t enough, and stewed over it for a long moment.

Everything has to hurt.

That line stood out to me. Silently, I padded into Yoongi’s room and grabbed the mic he kept hidden in the second drawer of his work table. I’d take the scolding later. I fell in a heap once more before my laptop and plugged in the mic. After a few tests, I cleared my throat and began recording the rap. If nothing else, I could find someone else to sing the chorus.

“Like morning comes after night, if summer comes after spring,” I began, and didn’t stop, didn’t stumble. “And every day I stay, because people and pain all die eventually.” I kept going, and even though I was rusty, I could feel some power in it. In the words. “Pray that this wind will pass like all winds do.”

I stopped to catch my breath, pausing the song and pulling the headphones off my ears with a sigh. I patted my cheeks a little, shook my head, and opened my eyes slowly.

But when I looked around, I saw something that hadn’t been there before. More specifically, a darkly clad someone standing with crossed arms beside the arm of the couch. I screamed before I could stop myself as Yoongi crossed the living room floor and sat on the couch beside my head, hunching over his knees to inspect my project with squinted eyes.

“Sounded good,” he said with a nod. I swallowed hard. Without looking at me, he continued. “Can I hear the beat?”

“Ah, uh, it’s still really rough and-,”

He turned to face me with one cocked brow. “Can I hear it?”

I hinged and unhinged my jaw a few times, but he was scanning me and I couldn’t stall long. I clamped my mouth shut and cleared my throat. “Um…yeah, sure.”

I unplugged the headphones and played what I had from the start. “I…I wanna add vocals here,” I said as the song began. “Something kind of…like a chant. Repeating, I think. Like a mantra.”

“Mm,” said Yoongi with a nod, brow low as he listened. I’d have liked if he didn’t listen quite so intently.

“Um…and then here I think I want the piano to get a little quieter.”

“Mhm.”

I nodded and decided to stay silent. He wasn’t giving me any feedback anyway, just listening. Instead, I just sat there like a kid, awaiting my parent to tell me if I did well or not. The song closed and I glanced over my shoulder at Yoongi who by then had his chin seized between his two palms, almost like he was praying.

“So…?” I hedged, eyeing him.

He nodded. “Really good.”

My eyes went wide and I stared at him like I was seeing him for the first time in the dark living room. I could just barely see his lips tilting in a bare smile. “R-Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie,” he said, leaning back with a nod. “Why haven’t you shared your work with me before?”

I stiffened. “Um…well, when we met you were already almost graduated with your degree, and I was just this young kid following you around. I…kinda figured someone like you wouldn’t want to listen to my shit.”

He cocked a brow. “It’s not shit though.”

“I just…I mean, you were a pro from the start, you know? Just…super confident from the beginning. And by the time I started to get really serious about it, you were already working for the label and I was getting recruited by a contract company,” I said, shaking my head. “I figured that alone was enough to show the difference in our leagues.”

“League?” asked Yoongi, brow furrowed.

I sighed. “I dunno. You’re…you’ve always been great. And I’m just…a sound engineer, really.”

Yoongi shook his head. “I’m telling you this because I mean it, alright?” he asked, crossing his arms. “If you got in with the right label, you’d do well.”

I sat up straighter, twisting to look at him properly. But instead, he was staring at my project, still smiling just barely. “Huh?”

“I’m not just saying that,” he said, nodding. “You could be a really successful producer.”

I was about to respond, perhaps pick his brain, perhaps thank him, but my phone began buzzing on the table and I jumped at the sound. Quickly I grabbed it, ready to silence the phone and return the call later. But I saw the name on the screen and paused. Hani. And at this hour…

Yoongi patted my shoulder. “Take the call,” he said, chuckling. “I know you don’t have a choice.”

I turned to stop him, but he was already striding towards his room. He didn’t even mention me borrowing his mic…

Sighing, I slid the phone open and took the call. “Hey…,” I said, and even I could hear that my voice was glum.

“Hey, uh…,” she said, her tone fragile.

I rubbed my temples. “What’s up?”

“It’s…it’s just Sooyoung. The divorce is almost final and they’re talking about custody and she’s kinda caught in, like, the crossfire or whatever. I’m worried,” she said, speaking too fast for me to keep up with.

“Have you talked to her?”

She sighed. “No, she’s not taking my calls. My parents texted me to look out for her, but she hasn’t even seen my texts,” she said. “I’m worried.”

“I understand,” I said gently. “Maybe go home for a few days and spend time with her, you know? Maybe she needs you there.”

“I know I’m just…I guess I’m kinda scared, you know? Like to go to my childhood home and see everything changing…it’s weird,” she said. “God, can I just come over tonight? Like movies or something?”

I stiffened. “Ah…jeez, Hani. I’m…I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“I know, I know. Joon, I’m so sorry. It’s just…I really don’t wanna be alone right now,” she said, voice breaking.

I felt my chest pinch a little. “Hani, why don’t you go home then?”

She sighed. “I told you-,”

“But if you can’t be alone, the best place is home,” I said, staring at my half-finished song. The one that would surely stay half-finished if she came over.

“I think it would be too hard.”

“Then what about your friends? Joohee lives close by anyway,” I said, desperate.

“Joon…,” she began, letting the word die in the air.

I sighed. “It’s not good for me, Hani. I wish you’d respect that.”

“I know. It’s selfish, and I know that. But…I just need to be with you right now, you know?”

“Don’t say that,” I said, pinching my eyes shut. But, to my surprise, my heart didn’t race like it used to. Instead, only annoyance.

“I mean it-,”

“Hani!” I shouted, slamming a hand on the table. I saw there on my wrist that hair elastic. What was it about that thing? “I’ve told you so many times, haven’t I? I’ve told you it’s not healthy!”

“Don’t yell!”

I shook my head, heart pounding now for an entirely different reason. “I’m not yelling,” I said, leveling my tone. “I…Hani, do you have any idea what it’s been like?”

She was quiet. “I…”

“Do you have any idea how hard it was? When you told me on graduation night. The years after. How you knew I knew you were still messing around on me,” I pinched my nose bridge. “I promised myself I wouldn’t make you feel guilty for it. That you yourself felt bad enough. That that would be enough for me too.”

“Joon…”

“But you can’t keep hurting people and expect them to give you the love you need,” I said. “You can’t keep putting me through the pain of reliving everything. It’s not fair.”

She said nothing. For a long time. But I heard the ambient sound of life on the other side of the phone, and I knew she was still there. Still listening, waiting for me to continue. But I didn’t have it in me. I’d said it. I’d finally howled.

“I…I don’t know what to say, Joon,” she said finally.

I nodded. “Me either.”

“I…can’t we meet up and talk this out in person?”

I exhaled, long and slow, and shook my head, eyes falling to the hair elastic on mu wrist. “No, Hani.”

She sighed. “Namjoon…”

“Go home, okay? Do it for Sooyoung,” I said before ending the call and tossing my phone onto the couch behind me.

Quietly, determined, I pulled my headphones back up around my ears, straightened my sweatshirt, and got back to work on the song.

“Namjoon!” someone called as I opened my eyes.

I didn’t even have a chance to react, because the girl who’d called for me had already wrapped her arms around my waist, burying her head in my shirt. It was familiar, this scene. Looking down at the top of a strange girl’s head in the middle of the darkness. Feeling her arms tighten around me. I might have resisted, might have pulled away, if I didn’t feel that same itch beneath my skin as I had watching that employee earlier today.

“Eun…Eunbyul?” I said, testing the name in my mouth.

She stiffened and pulled away, and once our eyes met the memories returned. Everything. Unwillingly, tears welled in my eyes and everything made sense. That wistfulness I’d been feeling all day, the sense of profound melancholia. After leaving the dream the night before, being so close, seeing something so painful, and having not even a spare second to console her…

Instead of saying anything, I swept her up in my arms again and let my head fall into the crook of her neck. She held tight too, like I might slip away if she didn’t keep her grip strong. She smelled like strawberry shampoo and the faint, barely-there scent of clay.

She breathed a shaky exhale and nodded against me. “I’m so fucking happy to see you,” she said softly.

I nodded, unable to summon words for a moment. “I…I saw you again today. At the pottery place.”

She nodded. “I saw you too. Walking away with Jimin.”

“I wish I would have gotten a good look at you,” I said.

“Me too…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

We stayed that way, embracing, for a moment that felt endless. Eunbyul was the first to break away, adjusting her glasses as she did. She sniffled a little, rubbing beneath her nose, and averted her eyes. Neither of us said anything, but it was clear something had shifted between us. Our relationship…whatever it was…was changing.

“Let’s…let’s do something fun tonight,” I said with a nod.

She smiled softly, pushing her hair from her face. She nodded. “I’d like that.”

Gently, I took her hand and shut my eyes. I tried to remember every detail of the place, every lamppost and vendor’s booth. I tried to conjure the cobbled walkways, the ferris wheel, the lanterns strung up in rows overhead. And when I opened my eyes, it was sunset and we were there.

“An amusement park?” she asked, chuckling. “And…wait, is this in Sangdo-dong?” she asked.

I nodded. “You know it?”

She stared, mystified and wide-eyed, at the park splayed out before her. “Um…yeah, actually. I think I mentioned it before, but…something kind of scary happened to me when I was young. It was pretty nearby here.”

I stiffened. “Shit, I can take us somewhere else-,”

She turned to me and smiled, shaking her head. “Don’t,” she said. “I wanna go on some rides.”

I blinked down at her, at the big sleep shirt with shorts just barely peeking out, at the bed hair, at the flush in her cheeks. And I felt myself flush too. I cleared my throat and began strolling toward one of the coasters.

“Do, uh…do you think the rides will work?” I asked.

She hummed. “I dunno. You’ve never tried?”

I shook my head. “I…also had something scary happen when I was a kid. Here at the amusement park. So I haven’t been back.”

“Oh,” she said, pausing in the walkway. “We can go someplace else.”

I smiled and rubbed circles into her hand. “No, it’s fine. It’s just…the only amusement park I could remember. And I remember it pretty vividly.”

She nodded. “Alright.”

“Here, let’s go on this one,” I said, pointing to the swinging pirate ship.

Her eyes glittered in the sunset as she stared at it. “Whoa,” she said, glancing around. “Who’s gonna operate it?”

I paused a moment and pursed my lips. “You sit down first and I’ll push a button or something.”

“Push a button?” she repeated, laughing.

I rolled my eyes and gave her shoulder a shove with mine. “Maybe two buttons,” I said, shrugging. I released her hand she gestured for her to go ahead onto the ride.

She waved at me over her shoulder and took a seat at the farthest row, the one right by the back of the ship. She bounced a little as she waited for me, smiling in my direction as I examined the control panel. Perhaps because I’d never seen it, I couldn’t quite imagine what it would look like and in its place was just a blank metal podium.

I sighed and rubbed my chin. “I mean…,” I began, talking to myself, “if it’s a dream, I can make the rules, right?”

I shut my eyes and imagined a big red button on the podium, one that would give the start a delay so I could take my seat with Eunbyul. As I opened my eyes, there it was and with a smile I pounded it. Told you, I thought, just one button. I heard the machine whirring up and sprinted as fast as I could toward the entrance of the ship. I bumped my shin on the way down the aisle and Eunbyul suppressed a laugh with her hand. Luckily, just as the thing lurched to life, I fell into the spot beside her with a heavy sigh.

“You ready?” I asked, smiling.

She laughed and nodded. “Been ready.”

I rolled my eyes as the ride began to swing like a pendulum, gradually increasing in speed and height. Soon, we were rocking back and forth, sent high into the air and then hovering, weightless, for a fraction of a second before plummeting back down to earth. Beside me, Eunbyul released a joyful scream, throwing her arms in the air as we swung up and down, back and forth. The wind whipped her hair around, and on each descent she had to squeeze her eyes nearly shut. She laughed as we swung and swung. If she’d let me, I’d liked to have kept sitting there forever, watching her smile and laugh as the pirate ship lurched.

But my brain seemed to know approximately how long a ride should be, and before too long, the ride slowed to a steady stop. Eunbyul, with her hair now windswept and waving and her eyes alight, turned to me with the brightest smile.

“That was so fun,” she said, laughing.

It was the first time I’d seen her with such unbridled happiness, an easy joy in her features. And she was beautiful. I wanted her to stay that way, stay smiling, stay messy, stay joyful.

I smiled. “What next?” I asked.

The two of us traveled through what I remembered of the park. It had been a long time since I’d seen the place, but it seemed the memory was nearly imprinted. After all, it was the last place I’d seen with Dad. I ambled easily by Eunbyul’s side as she explored my memories, and we stopped at nearly every ride. The log ride, the coaster that nearly blew out my eardrums, the haunted house sans actors to play the ghosts.

“Let’s go on that,” she said, pointing at the ferris wheel as it sat juxtaposed against the forever sunset.

I raised my brows. “Oh, sure.”

She turned to me and smiled. “Hey, Namjoon?” she asked, almost shy.

“Hm?”

“Thank you for…you know, taking me here,” she said, laughing lightly. “Lately, I’ve been feeling a little better and I think it’s because I’ve been able to spend time with you.”

“Eunbyul-,”

“Ugh, let’s go before I get sentimental,” she said, waving her hands with a pinched expression. I laughed as she led the way to the ferris wheel.

Once I’d pressed the identical red button and scrambled to join Eunbyul in the closed ferris wheel box, the two of us fell into a comfortable, easy silence. She gazed out the window as the blurry horizon that my mind couldn’t conjure, the place where all the colors blended together. And I watched her, silhouetted against the violent yellow sun as it descended into reds and oranges.

“So…,” I began, watching her keenly. “How do you know that pottery guy?”

She paused for a moment before pursing her lips and offering a shrug. “I met him recently. I was spying on him through the window.”

“Spying?”

She nodded. “Because it looks so nice when he throws pottery.”

I smiled softly. “It was really mesmerizing.”

She turned to me with a smile. “He’s a nice guy,” she said. “I think he believes in me too much.”

I shook my head. “I saw you working today, Eunbyul. You were…really competent. It was like watching Jimin make pottery. I couldn’t look away.”

Her skin went a little red in the cheeks and she cleared her throat, smoothing her palms over her kneecaps. “Well…”

“You’re better than you think you are.”

She sighed, letting her gaze fall. “Anyway, how do you know him?” she asked, letting my eyes again.

I smiled. “My friend Hoseok took me by today. He was trying to…embolden me, I guess. Get me back into my groove.”

“Your groove has been off?” she asked, brows raised.

I nodded. “For a while. I’m…stifled. In a lot of ways.”

She nodded. “And did it help? Seeing Jimin?”

I smiled softly, remembering that song. “Yeah. I…I made a song. For myself. Something I believe in.”

She smiled at me and reached out across the small space between our legs to pat my knee. “Namjoon! That’s amazing,” she said, chuckling. “That Jimin. He’s good, I’ll give him that.” She paused and glanced at me. “Let me hear the song sometime, okay? When we finally meet in real life.”

I swallowed hard and rubbed my neck. Nervous as I was for her to hear it, the offer was irresistible. I nodded. “And…just Joon is fine.”

She stared at me, blinking, before she chuckles breathily and nodded. “Ah! O-Okay. Then, uh…call me Byul, okay?”

“Byul…”

She went red and cleared her throat, laughing again. “God, it’s embarrassing to hear you say it,” she said.

I smiled. “Do a lot of people call you that?”

“No,” she said softly, watching her hands as the ferris wheel rolled lazily toward the top.

“Does that bookstore guy call you Byul?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

She stiffened. “Who?” she asked, then snapped her fingers. “Ah, Jin?”

I shrugged, pouting. “I dunno. The guy who was flirting with you at the bookstore.”

She laughed. “He wasn’t flirting, just…bored,” she said with a nod. “God, I guess…I guess I have a crush on him?” she said, but the way she furrowed her brow made it seem like she was unsure. “But these days, it feels a little different. Like…maybe I don’t.”

I smiled, just a little relieved, and nodded. “I feel the same way with my ex.” Eunbyul’s eyes snapped up to meet mine, wide and brown. “Um…she called tonight. Hani.”

She inhaled as if to speak, but only let it go and nodded. “Oh.”

“I told her she can’t come over anymore.”

I watched her expression change, like she was relieved too, and she exhaled slow. “Good job,” she said, meeting my eyes again with a smile. “That must have been hard.”

I shook my head. “It’s like you said. Like…the way I feel about her is different now. Even in real life.”

“Wonder why,” she said idly as she glanced out the window at the empty park below.

I felt my heart thundering in my chest and swallowed hard. Say it, Namjoon, I thought. Say it now or regret not saying it forever. “I can…think of a few reasons,” I said slowly, watching her for any sign to stop.

She stiffened a little and turned to me with wide eyes. “Huh?” she asked. Surprised, but not disgusted.

Slowly, I leaned across the small space between us so that our faces were close. “Byul, I…,” I began, chuckling as the nerves made my words catch in my throat. “Sorry, nervous,” I said, unable to stop myself from telling her the truth.

She nodded and gently took my hand. “It’s okay,” she said.

I took a steadying breath and met her warm, dark eyes. “I think I have feelings for you.”

She was still for a moment, still holding my hand, before slowly she let her eyes drop and her fingers slipped between mine. It was small, but the gesture felt intimate. And the space between us was charged, trapped in this small ferris wheel box. I knew it was stupid, that there was no way it could work. I knew it would be nearly impossible to meet her in real life if I couldn’t remember these dreams, and I knew that even meeting, even seeing her properly, might not be enough to make me remember. I knew it all. I knew it was stupid, and that this moment was finite and that in the morning I’d forget it ever happened.

But right then, I needed to kiss her.

And so I tipped my chin just enough for our lips to touch. It wasn’t the sort of kiss you see in movies. Passionate and frantic and desperate, hands clawing at each other, panting. No, it was…softer. Gentler. She jumped a little at the contact, but I watched with half-open eyes as she shut her own eyes and leaned into me, her fingers still laced in mine. Tenderly, I lifted a hand to rest along the line of her jaw, touching her just barely. I felt her tilt her head to the side and took the initiative to deepen the kiss, just enough. Smooth and slow, like butter melting in a pot. Smooth and slow.

I pulled away first, hand still holding her jaw, her hair fluttering against my knuckles, and stared at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Sorry,” I said in a whisper. Everything felt hot, so hot I thought I might pass out if it weren’t a dream.

She shook her head and tightened her grip on my hand. “Don’t apologize.”

“I know it’s really impossible, but…,” I began, but stopped as I felt the pull once more in my chest. “Fuck,” I breathed, resting my forehead against hers.

“I know,” she said with a nod, shutting her eyes with a shaky exhale. “We…we’ll meet. We have to meet, okay?” she said.

I nodded against her forehead and shut my own eyes. Even though I knew it might be a lie, nonetheless I responded sincerely. “We will.”

“It’ll be okay.”

“You’re right.”

She nodded and sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Joon.”

“See you tomorrow, Byul.”

And in an instant, she slipped away.

[dontdoitluke]

We Could Be Heroes (Superhero!5sos AU)

Sky High AU, but instead, it’s a superhero University.

Featuring Jenna, Skyler, Emma, and Val, more to come!

Summary: After graduating from the Superhero high school Sky High, students can choose to enroll in the University for Supernatural Abilities and the Valiantly Educated (S.A.V.E.U) to further expand their powers.

Chapter 1/?

CHAPTER INDEX

Word count: 2,607 

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!

Tags:  @calumamongmen   @myloverboyash  @wildhearthood  @vintagehoods   @lukescherrypie   @burncrashbromance   @dukesnumber1  @calsophat   @kindahoping4forever

“It is a great pleasure to inform you that you have been selected for admission to the University for Supernatural Abilities and the Valiantly Educated for the fall semester.

You were chosen from the largest and most competitive applicant pool in the institution’s history for this opportunity based on your perseverance, potential for improvement, and your exceedingly high scores on your H.E.R.O. exams during your time at Sky High. On behalf of our Headmaster, the faculty, and students - congratulations and welcome to the S.A.V.E.U. community!

As a S.A.V.E.U. student, you are joining the very best, along with a student body from around the globe, all here to educate themselves on how to further improve their supernatural abilities, just like you.

This is a once in a lifetime opportunity that we hope you take advantage of. Please do not hesitate to contact the Office of Admissions if you have any questions or concerns. I look forward to greeting you in the fall.

Sincerely,

Malinda Breton

Director of Undergraduate Admissions”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ally threw her last suitcase into her dorm room and closed the door, immediately turning to throw herself on to her bed. She had begun to question her decision to pick a room on the top floor sometime during the second trip upstairs. This school has so much money and they can’t install a damn elevator?

She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, smiling to herself. “I did it, mom. I made it into the best Superhero University in the world.” Then she erupted into a fit of giggles. “And you said I couldn’t do it! Haha! Suck on that!”  

She was floating and jittery with happiness and was about to start unpacking but was interrupted by a knock at her door. Without even waiting for Ally to answer, the door opened and a girl with straight blonde hair poked her head inside.  

“Hey, have you seen a 6’4 Australian dork pass by here? Probably sopping wet, looks like a douche nozzle, and sounds like a dog whistle?”

“Um...no, no I haven’t.”

“If you see him can you tell him Jenna is looking for him?”

“Yeah, uh, okay.”

The door closed and the girl was gone.  

This year is going to be very interesting indeed.

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

Ally’s first class of the semester was Supers History. The class itself was surprisingly small for such a large university, maybe only 15 students, maximum. While waiting for the professor, most of them were occupying themselves. The girl that poked her head into Ally’s room earlier was there also, twirling her fingers and making a cyclone out of the water in her water bottle, and there was boy at the front who was using what looked like telekinesis to draw crude pictures on the whiteboard.

“Good morning, class.”

Everyone jumped. No one saw the professor come in, but there he was, erasing the drawings on the board. “You’re not in grade school anymore, son, try to act like an adult and keep the phallic artwork to yourself, okay?”

“Welcome to Supers History. In this class you’ll learn about Heroes past and some present. You’ll learn about mistakes they made so that we don’t make the same ones. You’ll learn which Heroes turned to the dark side and which Villains came to the light. I’m not here to waste your time, so I hope you’re not here to waste mine.”

No one said anything, so the professor continued.

“We will get to the syllabus in a moment but we have to do ice breakers first. I know what you’re thinking and I agree. They’re a waste of time. But they’re required for some reason so let’s just get them over with as fast as possible. I’ll start. My name is Professor Reinchecht. I’ve been a professor at S.A.V.E.U. for 27 years now, my power is teleportation."  

If you had blinked the very second he teleported, you would have missed it entirely. There was no noise, no cartoonish whoosh sound, and no movement except for the fact that he was standing behind his desk one moment and in front of it the next.  

Again, no one said anything at first. Most of the students were taken aback by how deadpan and to-the-point Professor Reinchecht was, as S.A.V.E.U. had a reputation for having fun and comical professors. One of the girls in the back stood up shakily however, and wrung her hands together nervously.  

“Hello everyone, uh, my name is Emma, I’m majoring in animal sciences and biology, and I’m a shapeshifter.”

“Are you comfortable with giving us a demonstration of your power, Emma?”

She nodded and walked toward the front of the class before turning to face the students. She bent down on her hands and knees to shift; her skin seemed to vibrate and pulse, then a sickening crack was heard as her bones began to grow and change shape. She began to grow fur and her face stretched into a long snout, and her hands turned into huge paws with long claws. The entire class was buzzing and murmuring with excitement. Shifting was a pretty common power but it’s not every day you get to see one of your classmates shift into a giant tundra wolf up close and personal. Even Professor Reinchecht seemed impressed. Wolf-Emma bowed her head and shook her entire body, and in a split second, she was back standing in her human form.

The professor spoke up with a slight smile. “Fascinating. Tell me, can you shift into anything or just a tundra wolf?”

“I can shift into anything I’ve seen in person, or have a clear image of. But I haven’t been able to stably shift into other people yet.”

“Wonderful. Well, that’s why you’re here at the University, to learn how to expand your power. Thank you for your demonstration.”  

Emma smiled brightly and walked back to her desk with a spring in her step. At this point the entire class was excited to see each other's powers and to show off their own.  

Without being asked, a tall, leather clad guy sitting next to Emma stood up, smirking cockily. “Hey, my name’s Luke, some of you know me, the rest of you can’t wait to know me. I haven’t picked a major yet, and my power is my voice.”

Even the crickets were silent.  

Reinchecht blinked twice and looked at Luke with a bored expression, having seen arrogant students like this every year. “You’re gonna show us what that means, aren’t you?”

Luke nodded and smiled widely. “You guys might want to cover your ears.”

No one moved to cover their ears. However, Luke looked around the room before setting his sights on Reinchecht’s desk. Taking a deep breath, he let out a very quick but very loud yelp, similar to the sound of an airhorn, albeit higher pitched, causing one of the pencils in a cup on Reinchecht’s desk to shatter into dust. The students let out groans of protest and rubbed their ears, and the professor just sighed and took his glasses off to clean the pencil dust off of them.  

“That was my favorite pencil, but go off I guess, as the kids say these days. Have a seat, Luke. Who’s next?”

Ally thought to herself that this guy must have been the one Jenna was looking for. She was excited to see the rest of the student's powers.  

The girl who visited her dorm earlier that week stood up quickly. “Hello, I’m Jenna, I’m majoring in criminal law, and I can do this.” Jenna opened her water bottle and poured some into her right hand, but instead of the water pouring over and onto the floor, it formed a grapefruit-sized orb in her palm. She turned toward the back of the classroom and threw the water orb directly at Luke’s face, soaking him and all of his belongings as the class roared with laughter. Luke sputtered and tried to shake the water out of his eyes, but it seemed as if Jenna was also using her powers to force the water to stay on his skin.  

“Fuck, I knew I recognized you! I ought to burst your eardrums.”

The professor finally spoke up. “Alright, alright, that’s enough. Jenna, can you dry him off?”

“I can. But I don’t know if I should.”

“Jenna.”

“Okay, fine.”

With a wave of her hand, every drop of water on Luke and his things reformed into the orb that flew toward the front of the classroom and dropped itself gently into a potted plant. The class was still laughing softly and Luke was red-faced with embarrassment. Ally, however, was getting more and more anxious with each power she witnessed. She felt as if her power paled in comparison to her classmates powers.  

Another guy sitting toward the front of the room stood. He was wearing a pair of noise cancelling headphones, and looked like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.

“My name is Michael, I’m also studying criminal law, and I have supersonic hearing. I don’t really know how to demonstrate it well enough to prove it. I can’t turn off my power, so I just use these all the time to dull down the noise so that things aren’t so loud,” he said quietly, tapping his headphones and shuffling his feet.  

Reinchecht replied softly,“That’s alright, Michael, you don’t have to demonstrate your gift to us. Thank you for sharing.”

Poor guy, Ally thought. Is it a gift or a curse? He must never get a break.

Another girl stood and waved. “Hi, I’m Valeria, I’m here to study human biology, and I can shrink myself down to the size of a pin head.” She’d begun shrinking before she’d finished speaking, but her dress didn’t shrink with her so she was struggling to hold it up and keep herself covered. Luke and a couple of other students catcalled and whistled, much to Michael's dismay. He pressed the cups of his headphones harder onto his ears and grimaced. Valeria shrunk herself down to about a foot tall before holding her dress up became cumbersome and grew herself back to her normal height. She swayed in place for a second and fell back in her seat dizzily.

“Very useful, I imagine. I should have you come shrink down for me if I ever accidentally lock my keys in my car.” Reinchecht chuckled and took a seat on top of his desk. “Anyone else?”

A boy with tan skin and bleached hair stood. “My name is Calum. I’m majoring in powers theory, and I have indestructable digestion. And a spare stomach pouch. I can swallow and store or digest pretty much anything I can fit into my mouth. I...guess I can show you”

Valeria made a pained noise in the back of her throat that sounded like a cross between a groan and a squeak at that.

Calum moved on, pulling a small leather bag out of his pocket and taking out a small handful of large glass marbles. He popped them into his mouth as if they were a handful of peanuts and swallowed them whole.

A red haired guy scoffed and shook his head. “You’ve been trying to prove that since we were kids, Cal. I’m still not convinced that’s a real power. Anyone can swallow some marbles with enough practice.”

Calum furrowed his brows and frowned. “Yeah, but can they digest them? Not everyone can digest glass marbles, Ash.”

Ash shrugged and slouched in his seat. “Still not convinced it’s real.”

“Real enough for me,” Valeria sighed, smiling at Calum, who was beginning to look very uncomfortable.

“Alright, we have to finish up soon, let’s move on,” Reinchecht interrupted. “Anyone else want to volunteer?”

“I will,” a girl with long black hair bounced up excitedly. “I’m Skyler, I’m studying physics, and I have invisibility and forcefields. Jenna, can you shoot some water at Luke again?”

“What!?”

“With pleasure,” Jenna grinned evilly. She pulled another orb of water from her bottle and sent it flying toward Luke. Skyler raised her hand and summoned a shield of light in front of the blonde Aussie, preventing him from getting soaked again.  

“You have GOT to stop doing that. You’re like a nerf gun gone wrong.”

“Hey, Sky asked me to, yell at her,” she raised her hands in defense and pointed toward Skyler, but she was invisible all except for her clothes. It was kind of eerie to see clothes sitting in a desk without a body.

“It takes me a little bit to come back...sorry guys, I’ll be visible in a few seconds.”

The red-haired guy from earlier stood. “I guess I should go. Hi, I’m Ashton, I’m majoring in geology and earth science. And, surprise surprise, I’m an earth elemental. Cal Pal here used to call me Captain Earthquake when we were kids because of it.”

“I called you Captain Earthquake because your farts shook the whole room.”

“Gee, thanks Cal. Love you, man.”

“Of course, you’re my best bud.”

Luke opened his mouth to say something but Jenna flicked two fingers and shot a water stream directly into his mouth, making him gag.  

“Moving on, now. Jenna, please stop trying to kill Luke, you can do that in the arena on rally days. Skyler, that’s a pretty incredible power. I can’t wait to see how you end up progressing. Alright, who hasn’t gone yet?”

Ally looked around the room to see if anyone else would volunteer before her, and when no one did she stood up shakily. Public speaking always made her nervous.

“Hello, I’m Ally. I’m, uh, here to study environmental science, and I can...multiply things.”

Emma looked at Ally with confusion. “Like...mega math powers?”

“No, um...like this.” She grabbed the pen off of her desk and rubbed it between her hands. It was one of those things where if you weren’t paying attention, you’d miss it. One pen turned to two, two turned to four, and four turned to eight, until she had a handful of blue ballpoint pens in her hand. Some of her classmates clapped in approval, and that calmed her a little. She felt subpar to her classmates, so even the slightest bit of approval made her feel much better.  

“Thank you, Ally. That’s a very useful power. I imagine you’ll be able to improve far beyond your expectation.”

Reinchecht cleared his throat and glanced at his watch. “However, we are out of time. We’ll have to get to the rest of you tomorrow. Please, take a syllabus on your way out today. Read over it and make sure you get the required textbooks. You’re dismissed.”

All the students stood up and started gathering their things, chit chatting with each other about their powers. A now-visible Skyler and Jenna were bombarding Emma with questions about her power, Luke and Ashton followed Michael out of the classroom, and Valeria busied herself with trading phone numbers with Calum, pouting when he exclaimed “I have not and will never attempt to swallow a human, no matter how small they are.”

“But you CAN do it, though.”

“Bye, Val.”

“Wait, I have more questions!”

Ally stuffed all the new pens in her bag and headed for the door, but she was stopped by Jenna.

“Hey, what are you doing for lunch?”

“Uh, I was just gonna grab a sandwich or something from the commons, why?”

“Why don’t you join us? We’re gonna meet the boys at Pablo’s and have lunch there. They’ve got the best fish tacos. Please?”

Ally smiled to herself. This was already much better than high school and regardless of what her mother assumed, she loves it here.  

“Sure. I’ll meet you there.”

[huangfilms]

Pet Shop Worker!Kun

summary: i volunteer at different places a lot so i don’t stay in one place for more than a week or so but i started volunteering here and wow you’re kind of cute so i think i’ll stay here for a while

requested by: my sweet baby munchkin @kunuwu thanks for waiting oh-so-patiently for this!! i love you sweetie!

(A/N) here ya go,,, it’s been such a long wait for this i am so sorry sweetheart but! i have finally written it! it took a lot of perseverance for me cause i have no motivation for literally ANYTHING and i didn’t know how to approach this but!!! i hope you liked it I Love You and your random messages about nct in the early morning <3 (also im sorry that hs tutor mark isnt out yet i’ll probably do all these headcannons first HAHA)

let’s say you’re a college student

and you love to volunteer places in your free time cause you live like this

everyone knows that you volunteer places but never stay volunteering at one place for too long

cause you like to explore and see what you like

and this week you decide to volunteer at a pet store near your dorm cause!! you love animals

so when you first go in youre in awe because wow! these animals are super cute fat uwu

you walk up to a worker to ask where you can sign up for volunteer hours

and this worker looked a little surprised cause no one really volunteers

also

this worker was kind of cute....... just saying

anyone with eyes would agree

but anywho

so he goes into this office thingy and gives you this paper which you could fill out and start volunteering the next day

and you take a look at his name tag and it says ‘kun’

when you’re done filling the paper you’re all like, ‘thanks kun! the name’s y/n! i’ll see you tomorrow!’ :)

he gives you a smile and you melt and then blush 

you hope he didn’t see you blushing cause it was pretty intense

but he did

he found it endearing cause you’re cute too

so anyway it’s the next day

and you come into the shop at around 1 pm so you aren’t really early but you aren’t late either

when you go in you’re greeted by kun who probably saw you walking to the door

he hands you an apron and told you that you could feed the animals, the food is in the back 

while you’re feeding the fish, you sneak a few glances at kun

boy was attractive how could you nOT

and sometimes he would already be looking at you with a shy smile

but then he would turn red because you caught him

and throughout the whole day you guys are just like,,,, smiling at each other and just looking at each other

blease talk to each other or something

it becomes like 5 pm and you wanted to go eat but you still wanted to go there after cause it would be open until like,,, 9

you go and tell kun that you’re just gonna go to the fast food restaurant down the street and ask if he wants anything

you also add in if it’s okay that you go back after eating

and he says that he has dinner packed in the staff room, and that yeah of Course It Is Okay

so you eat or whatever and its like 7 when you walk back

and when you come back in, you see kun talking with someone

you don’t want to disturb them so you check on all the pets quietly

you can faintly hear them talking, and you hear your name so you look up very subtly

‘how’s your new volunteer? do you like them????’

you can hear a slap and you try your best not to giggle so loudly

‘they’re really cute but i just met them yesterday so i don’t really know how they’re like’

‘‘do you plan on getting to know them??? you’re blushing’

and then his friend laughs and you hear another slap

‘in all seriousness though, i think you should, it wouldn’t hurt to try!’ and then when you walk near the birds you can see his friend waving bye and exiting

you clear your throat while looking at all the accessories to make it look like you just weren’t listening to them

‘oh, y/n! you’re back whendidyougetback’

and you look over to see him red in the ears

‘i came back around thirty minutes ago? i didn’t want to bother you since you were talking with someone.’ and then you smile at him

and he just flushes even more ‘did you hear what we were talking about?’

‘you just shyly nod at him, and then he groans a little but before you could filter your mouth you say

‘i think you’re cute too’

and now you’re the one who’s blushing

then you two begin to talk to each other and then it becomes 9 pm and suddenly he’s walking you home

walk you home by nct dream? i agree

you find out that he goes to the same college as you but you guys major in two completely different departments so that’s why you’ve never seen him

but you find out that you guys have mutual friends

inch resting that you guys haven’t met until now LMAO

so anyway he just goes in a quiet voice, ‘i’ll see you tomorrow?’

and you grin and say ‘of course! see you!’

and when you turn around you’re grinning so hard your face starts to hurt

fast forward a weeks

you and kun become really close in that small time frame

and one day you get a text from your close friend doyoung, ‘what place are you going to volunteer at now??’

you reply, ‘actually i think i’m going to volunteer at the pet store a bit longer than usual’

he only sends you the eyes emoji cause over the week he visited you like twice but he see you throwing heart eyes at that dude kun you work with

he doesn’t know much about him cause you refuse to say anything

you reply to doyoung saying that you two are just friends 

anyway you’ve been going there everyday at the same time and kun always walks you home

you two are always joking around but he still gets a little shy

i mean it’s understandable you get a little shy sometimes

like when you guys are walking to your home sometimes your hands would brush and you get really shy

but anywho!

fast forward to like a month later

and you don’t have the heart to volunteer any place else cause you like spending time with the animals

and with kun

he’s gotten bolder

he hugs you when you guys say bye at your door

he asks you out to lunch when you don’t volunteer and he’s off of work for the day

he’s just been a little flirty too

during the month you meet some of his friends briefly when they go into the store

and they’re all loud but its all g cause they’re cool people

he meets some of your friends too

like your younger ones who have Very Big Mouths

‘yeah they Never stop talking about how cu-’

‘OKAY chenle you can like,,, go now!! by e sweetie !!!!!!!’

what kun doesn’t know is that you texted chenle saying that you’d buy him ice cream if he never says anything else while hes in there ever again LMAO

and chenle quickly shut his mouth

but anywho

since the pet store was closing a little earlier than usual, you ask kun if he wanted to go somewhere instead of straight home

you two go to the park near by and just talk and play around on the swings and chase each other around when one says something jokingly

when you guys become tired, you sit on a bench under a light and just take a breather

‘so i’ve heard that you don’t really stay in a place to volunteer for more than a week’

you freeze cause WOOPS

‘what made you stay?’ and then he laughs a little but you can see that he’s blushing as well

‘a certain worker was friendly and interesting so i guess you could say i stayed to get to know him better’

you’re looking at the floor when you say this though

and theres so much red on your face its pretty comical

then kun laughs a bit and you look up at him cause he’s so-

cute

and his laugh is literally your favorite sound sigh

it’s like the gates of heaven open up-

just kidding the gates of heaven open up when he smiles

but anywho !

you two call it a night and you guys walk to your house

while walking, you felt kun grab your hand and intertwine your fingers

abby: screaming

your mind: chaos

HE’S HOLDING YOUR HAND ! 

so you squeeze his hand and then smile up at him

when you arrive at your door, you lean up to kiss his cheek!!!! and then he

he gets flustered !!!!!!! what a cutie :’)

‘i’ll see you tomorrow kun!’ and then he’s just frozen at your doorstep with a big grin and he just waves

cause his mind is in overdrive hes sure he won’t say anything coherent if he opens his mouth

when you shut the door, he leaves with the BIGGEST grin on his face that his cheeks are sore when he gets home

okay so the next day! 

when you arrive at your usual time, it’s quiet in the shop

and that’s unusual cause kun has at least a few of his Loud Friends over so you kinda miss the noise

it just feels,,,,, empty

there are some other workers and they’re looking at you With This Look and its a little weird

cause why??? are you??? looking at me??? like that???

and when you see kun his back is to you

and then you go to tap his shoulder and ur about to say

‘yo what’s going on’

but then he turns around with a cute lil puppy and the puppy is wearing something

he grins and just hands the puppy to you

‘go out with me’

‘kun how am i supposed to go out with a dog isn’t that be-’

he kisses you

on the Mouth

WOOOOO

YOU ARE GOING! CRAZY! 

you really don’t know what the Freak Is Going On but hey you kiss him back!!!

it’s a weird angle since you still have the dog in your hands LMAO

he pulls back and he gives you a Cute Lil Smile HNNGNGSKJDFSF

anyway fast forward like a week or something

you tell kun that hey!!! i think it’s time i start volunteering somewhere else!!!

and he has a pout on his lips and hes all like ‘whatever makes you happy bub!’

‘you make me happy’

and he blushes HEHEHHEHE

but when you start volunteering some place else kun visits you all the time

and he gives you sneaky kisses and hugs you Every Where You Go

when both of you guys aren’t working/volunteering, you guys go on cute dates

one time you guys went to a dog cafe and?? the most?? precious??? ever??????

but anyway this is getting Really Long so! 

to end: kun would be just as soft with you as he is with the animals

he will always walk you home if you’re out late

Everything Is So Good and soft and 

one day you guys adopt a pet together! so that means you guys moved in somewhere in that time frame LMAO

but anyway !!! kun with animals is such a soft concept ugh my Heart Is Fragile Don’t Touch Me

Masterlist

[starwrite-er]

Poster Boy [Chapter 18] - Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: forgot to mention like half the fic ago but yeah I’m like 95% this fic is gonna have a total of 25 chapters

Tag List: @firefeatherx @plethora-of-things @britishteahater @umbrellabrass @purple-skeleton @winchesterandpie @the-creative-lie @i-alrightokaycool @definitely-nota-fangirl @purelittleblueberry @gemmielii

 For the first time in the days that have passed since the unfortunate death of a dear friend, I get up and force myself to face my friends. Maybe they already know what happened. They probably don’t.

 Either way, not matter how justified I was in my actions, it’ll take a toll on my relationships.

 I knock on the door of a nearby room, Keipii leaning into my side. It swings open quickly enough, revealing Poe behind it. “Well, this is unexpected.” He says, grinning at Keipii and I.

 “Figured I should be making an effort to do my job,” I tell him, shrugging nonchalantly. “Even if the start of the process is just having a meal with everyone else.”

 “Small steps in the right direction.” Poe’s smile is truly genuine as he reaches out and gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

 The three of us walk together to the food hall, the conversation flowing smoothly. When we arrive, there are already a fair number of people scattered around, and I find myself nervous.

 It’s almost humiliating that, after all I’ve been through, interacting with people I’ve known for such long periods of time is what’s setting me on edge right now.

 From across the room, I see Jessika spot us, beaming as she waves. Breakfast in hand, we join her and a couple other pilots at the table. Greetings are exchanged, and the sense of normalcy that comes with it is comforting.

 “Hey, Y/N, I gotta ask,” Snap looks at me, almost mischievous. “Is that Poe’s jacket?”

 “I- what?” I look down, realising that I’m still wearing it after Poe offered it to me a few days ago. Whoops. “Oh, sorry, I guess I kinda forgot to give it back.” I explain as I shrug it off. “Here-“

“Nah, keep it.” Poe waves his hand, stopping my actions. Around the table, brows are raised.

 “Oh. You sure?” I question, not wanting to come off as too eager to keep hold of the garment.

 “Yeah. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Poe flashes a smile. “You look good in it.”

 I return the look, readjusting the jacket before returning to my food. I can feel the surprised eyes on the two of us.

 “Well, shit,” Snap breaks the momentary silence. “Y/N won the bet.”

 “Wait, what?” I question, my mind drawing a blank as my friends groan and mumble about their lost credits.

 “Lemme take a guess,” Poe gives Snap a look. “This bet is why I kept catching you trying to get into my room?”

 “There were a lot of credits at stake.” Snap shrugs. Poe chuckles, shaking his head, and I roll my eyes.

 The conversation drifts away from the bet and towards more mundane topics, featuring the occasional teasing towards Poe and myself. It’s a welcome change of pace.

 “Um, actually, have any of you seen Chertan around?” I ask the group. Knowing his relationship with Niyele, I need to stop avoiding him and talk things through.

 “He, uh, he didn’t take the news well.” Poe tells me softly, and I sigh. It’s what I expected.

 “He’s spent a lot of time in the hangar the past few days, probably trying to distract himself.” Jess offers.

 “Right. Thanks.” I hesitate for a moment, reluctant to face the difficult conversation that’s to come, but I know I’ve left it long enough as is.

 Pilots and mechanics alike mull around the many ships in the hangar, various droids scattered around them. Across the room, I spot Chertan. With a deep breath, I steel my nerves and make my way over.

 Noticing my approach, he eyes me warily. The silence between us weighs us down, and I can already tell our friendship has been severed.

 “Did they tell you?” I speak up, my voice quiet.

 “Tell me what? How Niyele died?” Chertan’s voice is almost hoarse, his expression cold. “She was our friend. How could you do that?”

 “If I didn’t, all the rest of our friends would have died.” I say, numb.

 “Are you seriously justifying yourself?” Chertan’s tone is bitter. Resentful. “How could you have been sure that she was betraying us? She would never do something like that! Even after all these years, all these years you’ve known her, you’d still murder her like that?”

 “Listen, Chertan, I know you and her-“ I start, getting cut off.

 “She and I what?” He swallows thickly, and I can hear his voice cracking under the strain of the situation. “That we liked each other? That we spent all this time stupidly dancing around it? Yet you didn’t stop for a moment to consider it. No, instead you killed her, and spent days just hiding away-“

 “Chertan,” I stop him, my voice as firm as I can make it in that moment, but I’m fast crumbling. “Chertan, please, just... just stop.”

 “Why? You clearly don’t understand-”

 “Yes, I do!” I snap back at him. I quickly try to regain my composure. “I do, I really, really do, okay? You have every right to hate me, trust me, I know, because I loathe what I did. She was the first friend I made when my family moved to Pamarthe, and she remained my closest friend. Killing her is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

 Chertan’s face is distraught. He looks me in the eye, and I catch sight of his tears. I’m vaguely aware of the tears on my own cheeks.

 “Then why did you do it?” He speaks quietly, with the voice of a broken man, and my guilt is amplified.

 “You know the answer to that.” Is the weak answer I manage to muster up. He nods, beginning to come to terms with the reasoning behind our friend’s death.

 I still feel horrible about all that’s happened, but now the pressure has been alleviated, even if it’s just by a bit.

 “I... I need some time to think.” Chertan speaks up after a minute. I nod in understanding.

 “Yeah, okay. I, uh, I’ll see you at the memorial later?” He hums in response, and I leave him alone.

 The memorial. The word leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, yet another reminder of a comrade, of a friend, gone. It was to be a small event, with only those who were close with Niyele attending. Word had gotten out about what happened, after all, and the majority wanted nothing to do with her memory. It’s a strange thing. On Pamarthe, she had always been so liked.

 As I leave the hangar, the fatigue that has plagued me over the last days returns. The halted process of mourning has apparently taken a toll on me.

 A hand on my shoulder draws me from my thoughts, and I am unsurprised to see it’s Poe. “How’d it go?”

 In response, I shrug. “The way I expected it to go, really. Not great, but it could have been worse,” I sigh, closing my eyes. “He’s angry. At both myself and her. They were so close, but they avoided talking about their clear feelings, and now I’ve stolen her away from him forever. He should be angry at me.”

 Poe frowns at me, an emotion in his eyes that I can’t quite place. For a moment, he hesitates, but he pulls me close to him anyway.

 “I can see where he’s coming from,” Poe speaks slowly, sounding as though he’s choosing his words carefully. “But I also think that you need to learn to stop blaming yourself.”

 There’s a significant weight to his words. They tap into his own experiences, his own losses. They’re reassuring, even more so when I know some of those losses we’ve had to persevere through together. I hum in acknowledgement, my head resting on his chest. I can faintly hear his heartbeat.

 For a minute, we just stand in a comforting silence, until we both simultaneously deem it time to get on with our day.

 “Y’know, the minute you left the room, the other pilots at breakfast started hounding me for details about us.” Poe cracks a smile at me as he recounts the earlier occurrence, moving on from the prior topic. Absentmindedly, he entwines his hand with mine as we walk.

 “Oh, stars, what did they say?” I laugh.

 “Oh, you know, they were just interrogating me on the jacket thing, and why Keipii started calling me her dad, that sorta stuff.” Poe grins as we stroll down the corridor.

 “Sounds like they had a great time.” I reply, and it feels good to have a smile on my face.

 This time a year ago, if you’d told me I’d be walking hand-in-hand with Poe Dameron, joking with one another as we went to collect the child that adopted us as her parents, I’d have laughed. I’d never have even considered such a future.

 Yet here I am, slowly reaching the point at which I can admit to myself why my heart is fluttering.

 Part of me serves as a constant reminder that I have a job to do, that I have more important things to focus on. Instead, I’m finding myself beginning to listen to the part of me that just wants to enjoy everything life can offer after everything that’s happened.

 Eventually, as we approach the food hall once again, Poe shifts the conversation. “I know you and Keipii have the memorial later, so if you need anything...”

 “Thank you, Poe. For everything,” I smile reassuringly at him. “But I think this is something I should do alone.”

 “If that’s what you want, the okay, but you know I’m there if you need me.” He says, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. I lean into him slightly, tightening my grip on his hand.

 As if on cue, a familiar voice shouts to us, echoing in the corridor. I quickly push away any feelings that were just beginning to surface, preoccupying myself with Keipii barrelling towards us. Standing just inside the door to the food hall is Jess, waving, and I call out my thanks before turning my attention elsewhere.

 “I guess it’s time.” I say quietly, taking a deep breath. The walk to the memorial location is long enough, and the sun will be setting by the time we arrive.

 “You good?” Poe asks, his warm eyes watching me. I offer a smile and a nod, and with that, Keipii and I depart.

 The journey there is silent, Keipii uncharacteristically not saying a word. She’s been through a lot, though. She’s seen a lot. Her behaviour isn’t surprising.

 The memorial is a rough, rushed attempt at recreating a traditional Pamarthen funeral, but given the circumstances, it’s touching to see the effort that’s been put into it. A small, decorated raft sits at the water’s edge, waiting to be sent drifting away. The lake is one I know to be the largest body of water in the vicinity. I suppose it’s as close to the seas of Pamarthe as we’ll get.

 Those gathered are the ones that had accompanied me during the mission to Pamarthe. The mission that I met Keipii on. The mission that changed Niyele as a person. The mission that ultimately lead to her death.

 The ceremony is quiet, each of us consumed by our thoughts. We light candles, going one by one to set them upon the raft as soft words are spoken. I avoid making eye contact with anyone as it comes to me.

 “I’m so sorry.” I whisper, swallowing thickly, my chest tight. Keipii squeezes my hand reassuringly. Together, we set down the final two candles.

 The stillness of the lake is disrupted as the raft is pushed away from the shore. We stand watching as the sun sinks below the horizon, the small, flickering flames dancing on the water.

 Niyele was a good person. She truly was, right up until her final moments. Tragedy befell her, though, and like many unfortunate others, she too was changed. It was a result of war, still breeding nothing but malevolence.

 This memorial was intended to offer us some form of closure.

 I don’t think I’ve yet got it.

[cursewoodrecap]

Session 3: Darkness in Your Past

Hello everyone I’m still like. WAY sick. And I will be performing our next session entirely through texting and enthusiastic mime. But I can probably type, even if I’m hacking and wheezing?

In this session: oh no, backstory!

The party finishes their long rest at the bandit camp, universally antsy to get going and prickly with each other after certain ethical disagreements.

As the bandits warned us, the road turns out to be full of traps, and 3/4 of us roll terrible, awful perception checks. Clem, comically, immediately falls into a hole. It’s less comic when we realize there’s sharp spikes at the bottom of that there pit trap, but Valeria Channels Divinity and summons the Chains of Rack, catching Clem before she can tumble into the stabbity stabs. WHOOPSIE.

Traveling onward, we find a huge tree has crashed down across the path. We are all experienced players and thus suspicious bastards, and Shoshana rolls a good enough Nature check to suddenly have a childhood memory. There was once a local woodsman that she and her best friend used to hang around, a lumberjacky fellow and hunter named Mordecai. A good-natured fellow, he would let the local children tag along and show them lots of tips and tricks about the woods. Using the remnants of that remembered knowledge, Shoshana picks up on a few wood shavings and out-of-place bits. This thing has been tampered with.

“Everybody stand back,” she says, “I’m gonna poke it.”

“Wait, I have a crossb-” Gral begins, but Shoshana slaps it with a Mage Hand, which is only a 30 foot range. Two crossbow bolts shoot out of where the log has been hollowed out and the bark has been thinned to a sheet, and one sticks right into somebody’s boob. Good job, folks.

Going forward seems to be all well and good until, suddenly, someone notices we can’t hear Valeria, who’s guarding the back. We turn around and surpriiiise, a wild beast-man is hanging out of a tree and has her by a garrotte! There is a brief debate about whether attempting to free her by swinging an enormous greatsword is really the best?? idea??????? but Valeria puts an end to the discussion by stabbing the guy herself.

We complain at the DM about all the traps, and then get distracted, because OOH, A RAVINE.

Shoshana goes quiet at the familiar sight, but there’s something worrying here. There’s a beast-man of the Hunt and his wolf on watch, but there are dead people and wolves scattered over the blood-stained ground. A clutch Silence spell from Gral allows us to overcome the sentries with no alarm raised; Clem bisects the wolf with Extreme (and mildly panicked) Prejudice. 

Inspecting the scattered corpses, they seem to have been pierced by something long and thin - like arrow wounds, except there are no arrows to be seen.

We cautiously move forward, Gral sneakily scouting ahead and messaging back to the clanky folks what’s up. Shoshana tries to sneak, but is too distracted looking at the Hunt-people corpses for - someone recognizable, maybe? - and trips over a dead wolf. CLANG CRASH WHAM, roll for initiative, folks!

We slash our way through a couple of toughs and their wolves, Lookin’ Cool and Kickin’ Butt, but...this is like, two guys. What happened to the terrifying force that had the bandit crew cowering in fear? Why are most of them gone, or dead on the ground with the same arrowless arrow wounds?

Maybe the answer is through that door.

What Shoshana remembers as a bit of a hollow in the wall of the ravine - enough shelter to get a quick snatch of rest, maybe - has been covered over with a crude ceiling and a curtained hide door. No sounds are coming from inside, so we cautiously make our way in. 

It’s not much. Some rough skins and blankets to sleep on, a bag hanging on the wall, and a metal chest that we determine is booby-trapped. And loose scraps of paper, scattered across the floor. Shoshana bends down to pick one up, and reads it.

The gasp is audible. She stares at it, struck, as her player reads the text sent to her by the DM. The others begin to investigate the room as she stands there, absolutely floored - and then snatches for the next piece of paper, like lightning. And then the next, and the next, on her knees scrabbling for them, reading each one with mounting frenzy. She’s muttering to herself - “Why would she-? No, how-? The whole time?! And she NEVER??? How could she-”

Valeria cautiously picks up one of the cast-aside notes, reads it, and then caaarefully places it back on the floor, because Hoo Boy This Is Some Personal Stuff, Let’s Give Her Some Space. They seem to be unsent, half-finished letters, addressed to Shoshana. 

While spooky lady has a breakdown, Clem ably does a bit of medicine for Gral and Valeria to get everyone in fighting shape for whatever comes next. 

Shoshana collects all the letters, and somberly takes the pressed flowers Valeria found on the rudimentary table. Elsewhere in the room we find a key to the big chest, but still stand to the side when we release it - good, because an unsteady Mage Hand isn’t enough to hold the trap wire properly taut. Clem insisted we open the chest last thing before we leave, for fear that the roof would cave in, but a big scythe just swings out of the wall and slices the air where we all Decided Not To Be Standing. We find a bit of money, a Ring of Jumping, Ser Balderich’s sword, and a magic horn that is only heard by the person you choose to hear it.

The horn is apportioned to Shoshana, being the squishiest and the most likely to get targeted by these creeps. Shoshana, emotionally a bit frazzled, accepts it bemusedly. “Why?” she inquires dully. “I mean, it’s not like you’re exactly invested in my survival, past the next hour or two.”

Gral immediately protests. “I gave my word I would protect you, as part of my promise to bring you to Duke Shieldeater’s service. I would not betray that.” 

Valeria nods enthusiastically. Shoshana blinks and then gives the universal “get a load of this guy” gesture to Clem. 

Gral continues. “If truth must be known, I...am not entirely here on the Duke’s orders. I serve him, but it was my own decision to come find you. I strongly believe we Orcs need better relations with the local civilians. And I have my own aims, as well.” Cryptic behind his mask, he does not elaborate and continues back out into the ravine. 

Up ahead is the part that Shoshana knows is waiting for her. A thick blanket of branches and hanging foliage cast a section of the ravine into deep darkness - a canopy impenetrable to light but not, as she remembers, to the falling, flailing body of a young woman.

It’s distantly terrifying that seeing it again feels so much like coming home. A voice curls out of the ravine, welcoming her back at last. It’s impossible for her to tell whether the others can hear it.

“Ser Balderich is in there. The bandits said they were keeping him in the dark place, and...that’s where...”

Valeria firmly places her hand on Shoshana’s shoulder, reaching out in empathy to steady a comrade in a time of clear emotional distress. Shoshana feels a gauntleted hand land on her shoulder, the executioner’s cue to go face her death with dignity. They go forth, into the darkness.

...

So, it’s DARK in there. Valeria lights up the Rune Beetle. It’s still dark, supernaturally so, heavy and sick-tasting in the air. Even those in the party with Darkvision are limited, and they move ahead slowly and carefully. Luckily, Ser Balderich hears them coming, and starts shouting at the FIENDS! who are BACK FOR MORE, ARE YOU? and the party is able to find the pit he has been thrown into, heavy wooden bars embedded over the top.

Seeing the glint of Valeria’s silver scales in the dim light of the beetle, Ser Balderich’s shouting stops short. “...Marius?” he asks, disbelieving. “You survived? D-did any of the others-?”

Valeria recognizes the name of Kyr Marius, a mentor of hers at the monastery where she trained. Another silver dragonborn of the order, with years of combat experience. “I’m not Marius,” she lets him down, “But we’re here to get you out!” 

Ser Balderich, beaten and bruised and with at least one broken arm, is still with-it enough to notice that a young female voice does not sound like his presumably middle aged male friend. But he makes a quick recovery: “Oh! Uh, well, Kyr, it is an honor! But beware, the fiends are not far-”

Yeah, they’ve definitely noticed we’re here. A couple of worgs prowl out of the darkness as Valeria and Clem try to pry the bars off the top of the pit and haul Ser Balderich out. With Faerie Fire, Gral manages to illuminate one of the worgs and a mysterious cloaked figure, who simply gestures and we all take 3 Taint. What the what? It’s on.

We have a narrow battle - fleeing seems like the only option at one point, as several of us are boxed into a Hunger of Hadar spell by flanking wargs, but we persevere. In a moment of crisis, Shoshana pulls strength from the darkness and takes Taint in exchange for temporary HP. Finally, Clem and the wounded Ser Balderich break through to the cloaked figure.  As Clem’s greatsword pierces the flowing cloak, it collapses to the floor, empty. The figure’s taunting voice drifts out to us one last time, looking forward to the next time we meet. You can try to escape the Hunt, just like your little friend, but this is where you belong in the end...

Limping forward, we investigate the cavern behind where his empty cloak fell. Well, not the part that spirals off forever into the darkness. We’re not that stupid. But there’s a little room, off to the side, and we stop short seeing it. There’s a bloody altar, decorated with animal skulls, facing a hanging painting on an animal skin.

The crude tapestry depicts a figure wearing an antlered helm, tearing his way out of where he is bound by tree roots jutting from the ground. Three less-detailed figures behind him seem to be similarly bound. The edges of the canvas are decorated with grotesque, gory scenes of animals and hunters slaying their prey.

Oh, right. The DM notes he forgot to add the horror part of the scene. We look to the other side of the room and see a human corpse, nailed up on the wall. The word “PREY” has been carved deeply into his chest.

It’s Mordecai.

Shoshana is already so emotionally drained, barely able to register her dull rage at these grotesque atrocities here in HER darkness. She raises her hands, but Ser Balderich speaks up, saying Ser Quentin Morozov, his friend the Cursebreaker Knight, may have use of the tapestry. It might help him in his studies. Meanwhile, Valeria is gently pulling the body off the wall, looking for any sign of the man’s religion and finding not a symbol of the Obereon pantheon but a small pendant with two faces - Baba and Gramps, kindly spirits still respected by some of the more rural woodsfolk. Valeria’s big enough to carry the body, covering the carved words with her cloak and promising him a proper burial.

Shoshana lets them, dully watching. She can feel something magic within the altar, but the only thought she has left about today is the general concept of NO. She raises her hands and a wave of fire overtakes the altar. As it burns, the oppressive feeling of the darkness lessens. It doesn’t disappear, but something vital to this place has been destroyed.

A bit dazed, the party staggers out into the light, Valeria carrying the hunter’s body and Clem supporting a weakened but determined Ser Balderich. Wanting to avoid whatever hunting party was sent out after the escaping huntress, they make it back to the abandoned bandit camp before collapsing to regroup.

Valeria and Ser Balderich get to talking, Valeria asking how Ser Balderich knows her old mentor Kyr Marius. Did Ser Balderich ever speak to anyone who knows what happened at the Crusade?

Knows what happened? Pssh, Ser Balderich was THERE. Though it’s clearly a painful memory, Ser Balderich explains what happened to the members of Valeria’s order:

The Crusade was closing in, about a day’s hard travel from Valdsheart, the Duke’s capital city - the center of the Curse. The Order of the Rose has made it to the old summer palace - the roses were in bloom, the gardens were beautiful, still immaculately maintained by automated Unseen Servants that had continued working even as the city had been abandoned.

The commanders of the various knightly orders gathered together at the Rebel’s Temple. (A History check lets us know that this was the temple that Karena, the leader of the rebellion against Keva and the first Duchess of Valdia, had established to ask the blessing of the gods over the new nation.

If anyone ever had doubts the Curse was intelligent, they were ended by the way it waited until the knights were separated from their commanders. When the attack started, the gardens sprang to life. We were attacked by thorns and deadly spores. Ser Balderich took his horse and rode for the temple, while the knights held the line against the tide. The temple was holy ground - it should have been well-warded. Arriving there, he saw the windows stained with blood - the place was overrun. There were two groups of survivors still fighting: Archcleric Rudolf Klemsk and his knights of Rack fled one way, while the Peacock Knight (founder of the Knights Radiant) held the line alone. There were waves and waves of creatures, all sorts.

(Gral: Ser Balderich, please describe these creatures. DM: Absolutely not, it’s like midnight.)

Ser Balderich, unable to help, fled back to the palace to help the forces there. It was totally overrun. He hopes some got out, but was unable to get close enough to see. The aftermath? Well. Archcleric Klemsk got out, but Something happened there - afterward, he and his followers became the frightening Knights Penitent who violently hunt down all corruption and impiety. He assumes the Peacock Knight was overwhelmed, but he has been sighted since.

...I’m sorry.

Ser Balderich tells us: If anyone is going to solve this, it won’t be a marching army. It will be someone like my friend Quentin, and his Cursebreakers, or the madmen at Sturmhearst. We Beggar Knights will stand watch, and ensure as many people possible live to see the day the Curse ends, if that day ever comes.

We all mull that story, and then begin to get up to go. A quick discussion of options comes to this: we’ll go back to Ovruch and drop Ser Balderich off there, so he can recover and protect the town. In the morning, we’ll travel to the town of Holzog to bring the tapestry to Ser Quentin - perhaps he will be interested in our stories, as well. Gral certainly wants to discuss something with the Cursebreaker.

As everybody’s putting on their backpacks and stuff, Shoshana interjects, confused. Um...aren’t you guys...forgetting something?

Ser Balderich considers. “...yes.” He comes over to her, and she closes her eyes, readying for it.

“...I did not thank you, for rescuing me. You have my gratitude.”

N-no, you guys, don’t you need to...? Y’know? Take care of me, now that the Hunt and the bandits are dealt with?

...Oh.

Ser Balderich scoffs, compassionately. “Shoshana, I saw you reject the power that altar could have given you.” (Player: wait what? DM: yeah, there was a magic item in there”) “You were given your abilities, and what did you do with them? You took care of cats. You are not the monster you believe yourself to be.”

Valeria is nodding. Gral is nodding. Even Clem is nodding. Shoshana’s brain just about fails to compute; you can see the blue screen behind her eyes. We pack up, find a quiet spot in the woods to bury poor Mordecai the woodsman, and make our way back to Shoshana’s place to crash.

---

We roll against the Taint we acquired in the Hunt’s territory. Gral and Clem fully save. Valeria takes a minor corruption. Shoshana is offered a deal by the DM and takes it, gaining a minor corruption as well.

We each draw a card for the next session: The Hunter, The Knight, The Madness, and The Heretic.

[newaesthetes]

ok I'm gonna answer @basiilhallward‘s questions for the tag thing bc I need a Break from reading crime and punishment and there’s nothing nicer than an excuse to talk about myself

1. 5 songs you like, and what do you like about them?

brand new- soco amaretto lime. Youth! I don't know, it makes my heart swell a little, the lyrics could almost be a happy song, we’re young and it reminds me of walking in the dark when I'm tipsy after a party The front bottoms- the plan. its a nice little fuck you society song that its easy to jump around in your room to, also weirdly inspirational   the world is a beautiful place and I am no longer afraid to die- Wendover. a good song, a bit Sad John lennon- imagine because you know, I'm That champaign socialist. but this was also the first song I learnt on the guitar (also the green day cover version bc that one makes me wanna start a revolution) vampire weekend- unbelievers - its fun And makes me think about god and shit 2. favourite bit of theatre you’ve seen/read/heard

you Know I love Bourne’s swan lake. The opera I saw in Verona was an Experence. In terms of straight theatre? Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead is always a fave

3. if you could get any job, no questions asked, no qualifications needed, what would you chose?

ah I don't know, you mean right now at this point in my life or in the future. I guess I feel like if I couldn't deal with the questions and qualifications side of a job I wouldn't be ready to actually.... do it. idk, I guess id love to go into research. 4. someone you want to talk to again? i never want to talk to anyone lol. idk a few months ago i had a rather difficult conversation with one of my friends and we’ve grown apart since and i think I'm almost at the stage where ill want to reach out and talk to them again. but idk, if i want to talk to someone i message them, and i have a tendency to... not want to push reaching out again to people i used to be close to- the memories are there. when i was in yr 9 i remember wanting that friendship group to meet up again at the end of yr 13 to see how we’d all done but now I'm here i don't feel that desire at all really. 5. something good that happened recently!

i passed my driving test the other day which is... neat 6. pick up the nearest book and type out the 1st (few if needed) lines! do you like the book?

I'm sitting right next to my e m forster short stories so 

‘My pedometer told me that I was twenty-five; and, though it is a shocking thing to stop walking, I was so tired that I sat down on a milestone to rest. People outstripped me, jeering as they did so, and even when Miss Eliza Dimbleby, the great educationalist, swept past, exhorting me to persevere, I only smiled and raised my hat’ (that's the start of The Other Side of the Hedge)

yeah I like this book! ive only read three of the stories but they've been good so far, I'm keeping the rest for uni bc I find it better to read short stories than novels when I'm busy.

i actually wrote half of the answers to these questions yesterday including the above one and i thought id check out the book beside me today which is my Sylvia Plath journals. it begins ‘july 1950- i may never be happy, but tonight i am content’ and i thought that was worth writing here. i tried to read all the jounals a number of years ago but gave up half way. putting aside the weirdness of reading someone’s diary, its an incredible read. she was fascinating. 7. do you believe in a higher power or a God?

no. Well, sometimes but not really. I am fully ready to accept the possibility that there is a God, I'm a bit of a classic agnostic in that I think its absurd to think anyone can Know either way. And sometimes I do rather fall back on the idea, and I Do have an affiliation with the Christian god. But in terms of true belief, in terms of faith, no. 8. a choice you wish you could have done differently

I don't have any specific regrets, there are some things ive done or said at various points (or not done or said) where life would be better if I had acted differently. But I’ve recently succumbed to the belief that the way we act is the only way we could have acted. I’ve acted the way I thought best at the time at any given point. I also think ive learned from every mistake ive made, if I avoided making it at one point I'm sure I would have made it again later. and I'm happy with where I am right now, its my choices that lead me here.

9. what brought you to tumblr in the beginning?

idk, i looked on my old blog and my first post was a reblog of that tyler josep tweet telling people to stay alive or smth. i was emo and sad and questioning my sexuality and from what i heard tumblr was the best place for being all of those things 10. somewhere you’ve never been and want to see?

Up to a month ago I would have said Florence but ive been there now :’) so next on my holiday pining list is probably st pertersburg, might take a few years.

11. what are you most proud of?

how far ive come in the last 2 years in terms of my self confidence. less abstractly, i independently researched and wrote an essay and presentation last year on art history and art theory and i put a lot of effort in and it was good

[thecreaminhiscoffee]

How Do You Run Your Blog?

Repost; Do Not Reblog. SPEED: Bandit is a very slow Bandit.  I blame the multiple blogs thing, but mostly I’m just scatterbrained.  Either I have super the most ideas and super quick on all of the blogs or I’m super slow on all of them and have no gumption and abandon blogs left and right.  >.>;;  That’s not particularly reassuring.  When I’m queuing replies and have a ton of muse, I try to start from oldest and work my way up, but more often than not I end up skipping replies that I have no muse for and come back to them later.  Sometimes I have do all the short things days and sometimes I have do all the long things days and sometimes I have do all the things on this specific blog days.  It’s kind of hit and miss.  I do have specific threads (or partners) for whom some of my muses almost always have muse, which is why you’ll see those still pop up even when I haven’t been around - or, really, I went through this once and it’s more like I have priorities with these threads/muses/muns for multiple reasons.  Which sounds like favoritism.  I suppose it kind of is.  Most of the time it’s relationships that I’m interested in developing or am intrigued by.  -shrugs-  But, for the most part, Bandit is a very slow Bandit. REPLIES:  I prefer a good mix of long threads and short threads because sometimes I only have muse for short stuff (and sometimes I use the short stuff to work my way up to longer stuff).  I actually prefer iconless for most of my muses (simply because I’m lazy and don’t feel like making icons), although I have more than enough to use for Jess and like the challenge of that, I find that using an icon is also an easy way to avoid describing my character and their expressions - finding a way to do that to the best of my ability.  -shrugs-  I have a hard time doing super long stuff unless the relationship’s been built up (and therefore Jess, already more in touch with her own internal dialogue, will dialogue more and do more) because that chemistry isn’t necessarily there yet, but once Jess (or other muses) and I are comfortable within the context of the relationship, we can go longer.  (And sometimes I feel like I’m pushing to make things longer to match and I hate that feeling.  But I do try to match length.  So there’s that.) STARTERS:  I.  Don’t do starter calls very often just because I don’t want to be swamped.  I also refuse to do starters for people with whom I already have an introductory thread (because I don’t know how my character will respond to yours in other threads yet, still working on a potential relationship basis) and also refuse to do them for people who aren’t replying to threads we already have.  I’m horrible at starters and am more likely to respond to someone else’s call or send a meme.  For starting interactions, memes are a better option.  They give me a prompt.  Starters are hard.  ...which is probably why I don’t do calls very often.  >.>;; INBOX:  I much prefer to get memes than to write starters.  So much more.  So if you want to start a thing, send a meme.  That said, I have a tendency to, uh, forget that I have stuff in my inbox.  Like, if I start working on answering a meme and don’t finish it and then don’t have the nice little ‘you have a message!’ thing, then I will forget.  My inbox here on Jess is probably the busiest of all of my inboxes (other than Bedelia and Hannibal, but I think those are mostly when I’m being salty.  I get a TON of salt memes), but for the most part, I don’t get much.  When I first ran Jess a few years back, I used to get a ton more.  Sometimes I miss that. SELECTIVITY:  My selectivity varies by blog and is basically determined by 1) my insecurities about writing a particular character (for instance, on Hannibal, I’m only following maybe twenty people - and they’re all people I’ve known for a while and trust as far as me building that character), 2) whether or not I’m potentially dealing with triggering material with that character (Hannibal, again, falls into this category, but so did Meg, when she had her own blog), and 3) whether or not I think it’d be cool for our characters to interact - whether or not I can see potential threads or interactions.  Kind of lowkey brainstorming possibilities, if that makes sense.  Jess is not my most selective of blogs - I tend to be much more open with my Disney muses - but I’m more selective about what I write with her.  (Oh, yeah, and the constant callout posts or social justice posts - I have blogs where I intentionally follow less people who do that just because sometimes I need a breather.)  In most cases, I will try to write with most people here on Jess.  That does not mean I will continue to write with most people.  But that I will try.  Jess is one of the muses I’m most comfortable with and therefore can be the most variable with, so length does not matter so much as the chemistry between us as writers does. WISHLIST ITEM:  At some point in time, Good End Jess.  Just.  Most of everything I’ve written for Jess is based on her as a tragic character.  This was not intentional at the time I started writing her (and, honestly, the verses that led to that weren’t even my idea), but she has become very much an embodiment of a character who perseveres and hopes and tries and gets nowhere.  I would like to see Jess happy - without having to make shitty choices that fuck it up because she has to choose between two or more people, etc.  I hesitate to say even if that’s by herself because, as much as Jess does need to learn to be her own person and does need to learn that it is okay to be alone, I think, honestly, she won’t learn that in and of herself.  Leaving Jess to her own devices is often a very, very bad idea - particularly given her idea of happiness being a limited quantity and that she has used up her own, which means she can only be happy if she’s sharing that with someone else, which also means she’s using up their quantity of happiness - it’s a complicated circle.  (But I like it because there’s this potential idea that Jess can learn that, although an individual may only have a limited quantity, two or more together can create more, but that’s another thing entirely.)  Basically, Jess needs something happy.  And healthy. ...also let me write book!jess who is basically a lot closer to how i’d write haruko in the context of my jess’s canon, given new things i found out about her, but yes, let me write my seductive asshole of a child.  someday.  >.>;; HONEST NOTE:  I actually have been known to bite people.  Literally.  I don’t do that anymore, though.  That said, Jessica is my most possessive muse; she’s taken traits from me that I’ve worked hard to control, to deal with, because that’s not how you relate to people (and maybe the best way to explain this is that I read those posts about how to know when you’re in an abusive relationship and make sure that I’m not doing any of the abusive stuff because that’s my tendency and I’ve worked extremely hard to not do that anymore.  This is something I know about myself) - but Jessica, being at heart a dependent muse, also has a tendency to be possessive and overreact.  This bothers me.  She doesn’t do it in threads proper, but she’ll do it outside of threads.  We’re still working on this. TAGGING: not gonna be tagging anyone because wasn’t technically tagged so.  >.>;;