#and maybe the closest friendship with big bob

[br1ghtestlight]

it's weird to think that big bob's regular customers (pete, henry, max) have been going to the diner for so long that they would have known bob when he was just a little baby and were friends w/ lily when she was alive and worked as a waitress, then saw her worsening health and her death and how that affected big bob emotionally. bob becoming a teenager and eventually moving away and starting his own business and having kids with his wife!! like it's crazy to think how much they've seen throughout the years. I wish their characters would return at some point but because one of the voice actors died it's probably unlikely </3

I'm just fascinated by how they would have impacted bob's childhood as male/queer influences in his life from an early age. i wonder if he had the same relationship with them that the kids have with teddy now, and if lily's death emotionally impacted them as much as linda's death would affect teddy. i genuinely think about this a lot btw

[poppy-metal]

playing truth or dare with art and patrick and it ends with patrick daring you to suck arts cock - art is scandalized and patrick is grinning and you..... well. a dares a dare - and you and patrick have always had a competitive streak. he may have suggested it because he knows both you and art are more reserved than he is, but you suprise them both when you swallow and say, "okay," and then turn to art with big wide eyes - "is it okay if I do it?"

they both gape at you - art splutters - you're all tipsy, and all a little horny from patricks earlier dare of asking you to take your shirt and shorts off - leaving you in just a bralett and panties. they've both been serepticiously stealing glances at your stiff nipples peaking through the sheer fabric throughout the night.

art hovers his hand over his crotch - flits his gaze to patrick who looks at him like 'what the fuck' and glances back to you - cheeks pink. "um. you don't have -"

"you don't have to." patrick cuts in, clearing his throat. his cheeks are flushed too. his blush more fuscia than arts bubblegum pink. he adjusts himself in his shorts. "I was being a dick."

and maybe its the alcohol making you suddenly so brazen - but something about this - this night, this scenario, this weird fucking symbiotic friendship you have going on with these two - and them with eachother - you're horny and worked up and not wanting to back down.

so you shrug and say, "that's fine if art doesn't want me to. but don't say it's because I backed out of the dare - you guys are the ones who pussied out, not me."

silence. you feel both of their eyes on you and you know if it weren't for the buzz of alcohol you'd been twisted up in knots under their gazes. flushed and squirming.

art says, quietly - "you want to?"

you look at him - he's so pretty. angelic. soft blonde curls and blue eyes. gentle demeanor that hides a hidden nastier side you've seen glimpses of. one of your closest friends and the other half of your constant masturbatory fantasies. always with your best intrest at heart, almost annoyingly chivalrous, annoying in that it makes your cunt throb constantly.

do you want to? he'd be better off asking a dog if it wanted a treat.

you shrug - playing it cool for now. smile at him.

"I want to win my dare."

you glance at patrick then, "unless you're retracting it? accepting your loss?"

he closes his mouth which had been comically parted in shock - visibly swallowing. you watch his adams apple bob and think about all the times you've seen him toss his head back to drain a water bottle during or after a match, how many times you've watched his throat work - watched him in general really.

he was the moon to arts sun - the dark to his light - where art was prince charming wrapped up in thorns, patrick was big bad wolf trying to blow down your house. he made you hate him almost as much as he made you want him. one moment kicking his shin under a table for eating like a pig, and in the next breath having your clit pulse when he grinned salaciously at you and sucked sauce off his finger.

you almost wish he'd dared you to suck his cock - if you weren't equally as eager to get your mouth around art.

he tries to play it casual like you, but you can see the tent in his shorts - leaning back to brush a hand through his thick hair, which does nothing but flop back forward across his forehead - "a dares a dare. if art doesn't wanna bitch out then go for it." his green eyes flash, "I triple dog you."

"well now I have to do it," you tease. look back to art.

he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth - his fingers idling by the buttons on his shorts. hiding your prize from you - you can feel your mouth pool with saliva and swallow, attempting not to drool. not yet.

"I dont know how I feel about being used as a sexual prop," he mumbles, but his voice is shaky and light - clearly trying to make a joke and you grin, getting on your hands and knees, so your panty clad ass is facing patrick as you crawl forward towards art like a predator stalking its prey.

"then take your hand off your cock, donaldson," you purr. he flushes up to his ears and puts both hands by his sides, leaning back on them as you approach slowly. "besides, we all know that's not true. you probably love the idea of being a prop."

he licks his lips - darting his eyes behind you to meet patricks. some secret communication - you hear patrick say, "c'mon. s'just a game - " low and deep, in a way that is very much not just a game. not to any of you.

art breathes out - looks back to meet your eyes and then extends his legs out, spreading them for you - you can see the very prominent bulge of his cock.

he nods. "alright." he says, "I guess we're doing this. shit - " you make it all the way between his legs, your eyes never leaving his as you deliberately lower your chest to the ground, ass up, until you're level with his clothed crotch.

you hear patricks sharp intake of breath from behind you - know hes getting and eye full of your ass, more than he's ever seen of it - your panties sliding into the crevice of your ass, exposing your round cheeks to him, and under that - the outline of your cunt through the thin fabric barely covering it. you imagine the dark look in his eye, him reaching down to palm his cock. it makes your pussy clench.

you look up at art sweetly, palms sliding up his thighs until you reach the buttons on his shorts - he blinks long blonde lashes down at you in awe. swallows and then says, "you're r - really pretty." and it's such an art thing to say, at a moment like this - with patrick to watch you shatter the boundaries of your already precarious friendship - probably jerk off while he does - you just think -

I'm going to suck the soul outta this boys dick in such a disrespectful, sloppy manner it will make both him and patrick look at me different.

[spvce-cowboy]

Eep congrats on finishing your year!! So happy to have you baaacckk!! 🥳

Those prompt lists are soo good like, how do I choose one?? But let's trryyyy - "If you don't hug me right now, I think I might fall apart" with Din? 💕

I miss my boy 😭

deens i... you shouldn’t have trusted me w this power i’m being serious.

also yes maybe this is pretty much VERY out of character for s1/s2 din but lets close our eyes for a second and pretend this is just an earlier version of Big Bad Din Djarin man-whore extraordinaire that we got hints of in chapter 6

--

you know that Din can usually go for days without rest.

during the tentative friendship you’ve formed over the course of these past few months, you’ve witnessed a few stretches of sleep deprivation that could probably be considered legendary if it weren’t so concerning.

you’ve never seen him nearly drunk with it though.

or maybe he’s actually drunk, and that combined with the whole not-sleeping-for-five-days thing is doing a number on his fine motor skills, because it’s nearly three in the morning when a clattering sound that feels like someone’s trying to destroy the Crest itself has you jumping out of your bunk and grabbing the blaster you keep under your pillow.

you peer out of the door of the cabin as the man who’s supposed to be your mentor pulls himself off the floor, snarling a curse at himself as he recklessly pulls off his helm, throwing it to the other end of the hull.

it’s so unceremonious of a gesture that you’re almost too shocked to avert your gaze. almost. you catch a glimpse of tousled brown hair and a stubbled jawline before forcing your eyes to the floor, tucking your blaster in the back of your sleep shorts.

you’re about to slink back to your bunk, to close your eyes and feign sleep until he gets ahold of himself, when a rough, unobstructed voice echoes through the room.

“don’t.”

you freeze, then slowly shift your gaze towards his feet.

you never knew about the specifics of the deal between him and Karga, just that Karga needed you trained because of some debt he owed to your uncle and Din just happened to be the guildsman in need of the extra credits. you never questioned it and he never elaborated, so it was relatively unexpected when your relationship grew into something... cordial? the closest thing to a friend you’ve had since you were a little kid? whatever it was, you knew the feeling was mutual, so you never really felt the need to put a label on it. him telling you his real name felt like enough of a serious bond, you never thought to push it any more than it already was. what he’d allow it to be, that is.

so the next thing that leaves his mouth is enough to have your heart dropping to the absolute depths of your stomach.

“you were so fucking beautiful i nearly refused Karga in training you,” he says with a cruel huff of air that could possibly pass as a laugh if it weren’t for the circumstances. “didn’t think i could keep it professional. still don’t.”

you try to keep as still as possible, with your gaze turned down--out of respect, but also out of a fear of meeting his eyes. of actually acknowledging the way your entire body seemed to be chanting go to him. go to him.

then, as if he were reading your mind,

“look at me.” he says the next part softly--impossibly soft. “please.”

it’s almost as if he sucked the air out of your lungs. 

cautiously, your gaze traces the length of his body before settling on his face.  the sight of those brown eyes alone would have done you in, how unexpectedly gentle they were. how they seemed to caress your face even with the several feet of distance between the two of you. 

“i do still,” his voice is a low croak, slightly slurred and heavy with something you can’t place. you're able to smell the bar on him now, the sickly tang of sweat and liquor. his gaze burns with it. “think you’re beautiful, i mean. too beautiful--too kind to be involved with any of this.”

you can’t stifle your indignation, even despite the circumstance. “din--”

“i had to separate a father and his child today.”

you close your mouth, your retort already forgotten. you realize he’s not talking to you--or, well, he is. but not really. you stay quiet. you listen, hovering in the middle of the hallway with your arms wrapped around your stomach as a self-soothing gesture.

din licks his lips, nostrils flaring as if he too didn’t realize that he’d just spoken. then he slumps even further against the wall he’s seated against, legs played and head rolled back. he closes his eyes.

“i had to separate a father and his kid today,” he rubs a gloved hand over his face. you can’t bring yourself to look away, as if it would be some kind of a disservice to the sorrow carried by the slant of his brow. you swallow, taking in the curve of his nose, the bob of his throat, the high planes of his cheeks. “he wouldn’t stop screaming, and it’s been bouncing around my head and it’s driving me fucking crazy,” he takes a shuttering breath. “and i can’t--i can’t stop thinking, i can’t--” another breath, this one more like a desperate gulp. “is that what i sounded like? is that--”

you cross the room. you don’t really process doing so, just that in one second you were standing in the darkened hallway and the next you were seated beside him, one arm wrapping around his shoulders and the other tangling into his hair, pressing his face against the side of your neck in the only form of comfort you could offer.

without words, he wraps his arms around you in turn, pulling you into his lap and burying his face into your chest. you close your eyes, banding one of your arms over the expanse of his shoulders to keep him against you. you run your free hand over his scalp in slow, patient arcs. anything and everything to assure him that this is okay. 

you are forgiven.

it will be okay.

you sit there with him, gathered in your arms, until his breathing slows. until his chest rises and falls in the gentle, even movements of deep sleep.

you stay there until it takes you, too.

--

requests are open !

[vasiktomis]

Pomegranate, Chapter 17: Quiet Earth, Part I.

John Seed x Female Deputy

Rating: Explicit.

Read it on Ao3 here!

Notes: Thanks all who have been keeping up with this! I'm so consistently floored by the amount of content creators we have in this fandom corner and the sheer level of workmanship that exists here. This is the first chapter of Pom that I'll be posting to tumblr, and I'm hoping to draw up a little sketch with each update. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Big thank you to @shallow-gravy and @consumedkings as always for dealing with my stupidity and being a pair of top-notch angels, and also just like, everybody who takes time out of their day to engage with this? Y'all really sticking with ultra slow burn and I swear after some wicked angst in the next couple of chapters I'll finally be able to throw some well-deserved smut at you. WARNINGS: Forced conversion, descriptions of dissociation and derealisation, explicit language, sexual content, depictions of violence, guns, blood and gore. Canon-typical debauchery.

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“Don’t touch him!”

Mary May lunged with enough force for John to feel the wake of air sweep through him, even with how quickly she was snatched up and yanked back to her place. The soles of her tennis shoes squeaked against the floor as she was dragged to the far side of the room, unable to be trusted with providing audience to Nick’s Atonement.

A shame, really. It was nicer as a shared experience.

The Baptist rolled his jaw, off-setting some of the tension arising from the shrieks that the blonde flung at the back of his head. He righted himself, taking the tattoo gun from one of his faithful with a gracious nod, and turned his attention down to the pilot currently pinned to the floor. Without a word, he sank to his knees, straddling the man, keeping silent as he could just to listen out for any change in his demeanour. Fear. Grief. Defeat. Acceptance. A sign to prove his readiness.

Nick didn't flinch, breathing hard through his nose and watching with hateful eyes. John hovered an indicating hand over the man’s bare chest, bruised from the fight he’d put up against his capture, mentally mapping out placement. Then, he came in with the needle, beginning with the stem of an ’E’, right in the centre of Nick's sternum.

The pilot snorted, masking discomfort with indifference, turning a wince into a scoff. “Figures you don’t use stencils. I ain’t got a hope in hell of this turning out good, do I.”

That casual old Nick attitude. He missed it.

If only he’d let him do this 5 years ago. He wouldn’t have had to miss it.

John feigned offense. “Oh I’m sorry, Nick. Did you want me to do the rest in cursive? Add a feather? Infinity symbol?”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Talk about tonal dissonance. It’s not meant to be pretty.” He grumbled. “Might’ve gotten a little more practice if you’d-”

A yell from the rear entryway pulled John’s hand away from his canvas. More squeaking. More interruption. Jerome Jeffries getting hauled into the church, held under each arm by the pair of Chosen that John had sent looking for him.

The Baptist cast a look over his shoulder at them, content with the sight of Jerome adequately beaten and bloodied. “Ahh. Pastor. Try to run and hide? It’s no wonder your flock ran astray with a shepherd so quick to leave them to the wolves.”

Jerome ignored him. No reply. No eye contact. A crime John noted to make worthy of capital punishment in the New Eden. The Pastor was set down beside Mary May, who immediately began seeing to his injuries. Murmuring bubbled between them.

“Did you reach them?” The bartender asked. Must’ve been a negative, because the next thing she did was curse.

“The Deputy was calling when they caught me.”

And if she had half the spine to come and broker an agreement for her friends, she’d be inbound.

“Could you at least gag them? I’m trying to concentrate.” John ordered no one in particular, earning another scoff from Nick. “The faster we work, the less we’ll have to get through once she arrives. The quicker we can be out of this heinous town.”

“Stay away from her, shitbag.” The pilot ground out, this time unable to save face when John retaliated, pressing the gun just a little too hard, digging down through an extra few layers of skin.

“Nick Rye, you’re a married man.” John tutted playfully, resuming his work. “That sin of yours again. Take, take, take. Didn’t think the Deputy to be your type. Wouldn’t say you’re hers, either.”

Nick looked downright disgusted at the prospect. Less concerned for the state of his wife - which meant she'd been a likely getaway. “Always been so fuckin’ jealous.”

“Come again?”

“Think folks are stupid? Think I don’t know you?”

“You don't know me, period.” John bit back, skin on the back of his neck flushing between boiling and freezing.

“Anyone else givin’ you this much trouble’d be long dead by now. That shit on the radio? Reckon you’d be talkin’ like that if your family could hear you across the river?” Nick continued, averting his gaze when John shot him a particularly poisonous look. He didn’t, however, find it necessary to respond to such a veiled accusation.

At least until -

“Everybody knows you wanna stick it to her, John-”

As if he’d been awaiting the chance, John’s free hand shot to Nick’s jaw, aching in protest when he squeezed, not stopping until he could feel the man’s molars beneath his flesh. “That’s about enough from you.” He crooned.

John had his desires, yes. He’d accepted that much. Had he not been sworn to celibacy, he might have jumped at the opportunity to respond to Cora’s advances last night. That said, she was still an outsider, and while her Atonement made the prospect less dicey, he couldn’t consciously consider laying with the woman in real life.

No matter how torturous it had become to gear his thoughts toward anything else.

He could be content with just her company, without making any further advances on her. Last night had simply been a moment of weakness, and he’d prevailed by stepping away.

“If you’ll excuse me.” John switched off the little machine once he’d completed his piece and promptly stood to beckon for replacement parts. Mary May might have gotten away with an allergic reaction last time he’d attempted this, but considering he’d be slicing it out of her within the hour, he couldn’t see any reason for her to be complaining. The bartender had been a thorn in his side from the start. While Nick and his wife had once lent John their...whatever a sinner’s closest equivalent was to friendship, Mary May had always been trouble. Wore her heart on her sleeve and trusted no one she hadn’t grown up around. Bolshie. Almost fucking killed him, once.

John busied himself with needle transfers and a pleasant expression. He could feel the woman’s eyes on him.

Did she think what Nick proclaimed? That complete and utter lie?

How fucking crass. No, he did not want to ’stick it’ to Cora. At least, as far as anyone else was concerned. He was fond of her, and - while yes, he had encountered temptation - if one disregarded the cum-stained, stolen panties in his pocket, and the conjured fantasies, and the purely incidental erection he’d maintained after the Deputy stuck her tongue down his throat last night - there was simply no evidence to suggest to anyone else that he was even remotely tempted to break the rules.

Sex was the furthest thing from his mind. It was mere coincidence that today had just so happened to fall on a morning in which he’d needed to trim.

…

If, however, she were to decide that she wanted to continue what she’d attempted last night, then surely he couldn’t be to blame if he only failed to stop her. It wasn’t technically fornication if he didn’t initiate it. Nor was it considered intercourse if -

“Brother John.”

John jumped, heart stopping, whipping his head around to the Chosen standing at the door of the church.

“What?" He asked thickly.

“The Deputy’s arrived.”

Right on cue, the crackling of gunshots drifted in alongside the Chosen’s announcement.

“Tell everyone to hold their fire.” John ordered. “We have them outnumbered tenfold. The Deputy can’t be stupid enough to create a hostage situation. Direct her here, and peacefully.”

The Chosen’s throat bobbed, swallowing back outrage, and John squinted hard at him, trying to dispel the flicker of green light in the mist outside as it settled against the man’s temple.

“John, I don’t think-”

He never got a chance to act on that incoming insubordination.

Instead, he jerked, cut off by a sickening crack as a section of his skull blew out of his head. Red mist and liquified brain matter followed, splattering against the doorframe, and the Chosen slumped lifeless onto the front step.

John wasn’t so much shaken by the killing as he was irritated by everyone else’s apparent refusal to let today go according to plan. Maybe also the pile of brains and hair now sitting on his once-pristine red carpet. He’d made this easy for the woman: kill everyone he could round up, leave her with no one to claim duty to, and get this all over and done with. Have her home by mid-afternoon. Embark on a new chapter and achieve salvation. It was that simple.

Woe to him for trusting in her common sense.

“Fuck’s sake. Wrath begets more wrath.” He muttered, smoothing a hand over his chin. He didn’t have the patience for this any longer. “Fine. Sister -”

A woman stood from the pews as soon as John made eye contact, equally as unshaken by the scene mere feet away.

“Send out word: the Deputy wants to sacrifice her friends for the sake of a fight.” John punctuated the end of his sentence with a click as he returned his focus to jamming the needles into his tattoo gun. “Give her what she wants. Take her by force.”

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The smokescreen was beginning to clear, but despite the weight it was taking off her lungs, Cora would’ve preferred it remain just a little longer. At least until they’d cleared out the town. Had they been quicker, it might have lasted longer. Covered their approach to Fall’s End. Given them more cover to sneak about unseen.

The streets, while still hazy, were visible now. It wasn’t a difficult task watching Peggie silhouettes run from building to building in search of her team. Resistance members and civilians were either in the process of being rounded up, or littered the road and pavement, dead. The Ryes, Mary May, and Pastor Jerome were yet to be seen amongst either group.

Same went for Boomer.

Aside from the barking of orders from Chosen and faithful, there was little sound. Knowing how much of a fuss her dog had put up the last time he’d been caught by the Project struck Cora’s nerves. He was his own alarm, and he would not go peacefully.

Not hearing him was an indication of the worst.

Some part of her brain argued against the idea. Vouching that John wouldn’t have hurt the creature. That was her dog. He had to be an exception to the massacre, no matter how vicious he behaved.

She had to find him, and creeping through the rear entry of the Spread Eagle was the first point of call.

Luckily enough, the back door had yet to be boarded up. Peggies who rushed past covered windows hardly stopped to peek inside the place for fear of being tainted by the presence of alcohol. Sneaking in was simple enough, too, at least once Jess had picked the lock.

“I’m going to pretend that door was open.” The Deputy murmured her equivalent to praise, passing into the building.

Grace headed straight in after her, taking a left to search for any sign of Mary May while she took a right toward the stairs.

“You pretend the Cook’s head was already gone when we found him?” Jess whispered.

“Freak accident. You all saw it.”

“First floor’s clear.” Grace announced from the serving hatch in the kitchen, clearly unhappy about it.

“Right.” Cora acknowledged, “I’ll check up top.”

The second story was as dead-quiet as the first. Furniture had been knocked over in the hallway and bedrooms had been raided. None of it indicated anything good, but she still had to know.

Cora pushed open the door to her room, and while she held no expectation of what she’d find, her heart sank anyway.

It was empty.

Boomer was gone.

Only his makeshift collar and a tattered bandana remained atop the rug he’d been snoozing on that morning.

Her dog.

John had either taken him or killed him, just like the rest. He’d do the same to the rest of her team. She should’ve taken the Baptist’s offer before the latter had even become a possibility.

“No sign?” Grace affirmed once the Deputy slipped back down to the first floor. “My guess is either they’re in hiding, or John’s giving them special treatment. If they were dead he’d be parading them.”

Sharky and Hurk exchanged a frown when Cora offered only a nod, notably more meek than usual.

“Was he in there, darlin’?” Adelaide asked, a little too gently not to invite a sting to her eyes.

Cora felt her jaw clench. It was a different breed of nausea, trying to keep her composure under the scrutiny of the rest of the team. She managed to shake her head, and Adelaide’s hand found her shoulder.

“Could still be with the others, yet.” The woman offered.

“So how do we find them?” Jess asked.

Find John Seed, of course.

“Finding them’s one thing. Getting to them might be the harder part.” Cora began. “The smokescreen’s only getting thinner and there’s Peggies everywhere. It's grasslands from here to the hills. No way we can herd everyone across a field on-foot, safely. We’ve got to make sure they stay freed, first.”

“And?” Jess huffed. “We’re gonna kill some Peggies, right?”

The blonde considered that.

“We split up. Search the buildings for anyone who hasn’t been caught yet. Round them up and plant explosives as we go. With enough chaos, maybe we can have a shot at turning the tide in the short term.”

Sharky was practically trembling. “Explosives, like, everywhere?”

“Everywhere. The more damage, the better.” Cora replied. “Adelaide, Xander, pair up. Sharky and Hurk, same with you.”

“And us on range?” Jess grinned, trading a look with Grace who maintained absolute stoicism. “I’m so into that.”

“No.”

…

“Say what?”

“No more ranged attacks. I need you and Grace to head back to the van -”

Jess was advancing on her before she’d even finished her sentence.

“You’re pulling me outta the fight? The fuck gives?” The huntress loomed over the Deputy, incredulous. Cora made an effort to stay put, but Jess’s insistence managed to outweigh her stubbornness, forcing the blonde to compromise by leaning as far back as she could without falling.

“We can’t keep running on short-term wins.” Cora insisted. “We have to put our foot down. No more small assaults. No more hoping John gets demoralised enough that he hands himself over.”

Sharky frowned. “What’re you saying?”

She met his gaze, puffing out her chest, retaking her space. “I’m saying the Henbane Bridge is unmanned right now. If we get word to the County Jail, there’s no roadblock to stop them from helping us win this. John Seed’s throwing everything he can at us. I say we try for the same. I say we end it for good. We’re gonna take back Holland Valley. Today.”

“...You really like that dog, huh.”

“That too.”

Jess looked unconvinced. “So the two of us are running errands while the rest of you are holding the fort? Fucking bullshit.”

“I told you. No more range.” Cora bit back, jabbing a thumb toward Hurk and Sharky. “You’d rather send Boshaws and Drubmans to convince Tracey to send us her best people? No offence.”

“None taken, bitch.” Adelaide grumbled.

Grace exhaled, throwing away momentary hesitation. “We’ll be fast.”

Cora traded a nod with the sniper before looking to Jess once more.

Still unconvinced.

“They have cars with guns on them, remember?”

The corner of Jess’s mouth ticked. Temptation.

Mission accomplished.

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The tacky fucking carpet was the first thing she noticed, creeping along Main Street. Bliss petals had been sprinkled all over the road leading up to the church.

The carpet ended at the door. An invitation if she ever saw one. Boastful. Arrogant.

A pang of dread ached through Cora's bones, holding her in place while she drew her revolver. It could be an ambush. It probably was an ambush, but there was nothing she could feasibly do to avoid it. If the others were in there, then she couldn't wait around any longer.

She had to do this. At least hold out until Jess and Grace returned, with or without help.

She'd been running for long enough. All other options had been exhausted. At least John offered the least awful defeat.

Drawing close to the entrance, the Deputy pointedly avoided examining a dead crow that had been impaled upon the wall. She inhaled, holding the breath in her lungs, steadying her heart rate.

It was only freedom.

She opened the door, immediately training the gun out before her, following its guide into the room.

About a dozen Peggies dotted the space, leaning against walls, lining the pews - all angled at the pulpit, observing Nick on the floor. He stifled a cry while John sliced through the final remaining layers of skin binding the tattoo to his chest, peeling the word 'GREED' out of his flesh. Blood pooled on the floor around them, and the moment John had stepped away, the pilot was descended on with antiseptic and bandages.

The Deputy waited for nausea at the sight to take its course. It never did. She was all but numbed to the sight.

"Deputy, run!"

Mary May's voice cut through the silence, and the bartender lurched from her own spot on the ground. Guns raised all around the room, swinging around to aim for Cora.

”Hold!” John barked immediately, unconcerned when the Deputy shifted her aim to him. Instead, he busied himself with washing his sullied hands. “Hold your fire.”

His followers obeyed.

Cora, meanwhile, cocked the revolver in her grip. One foot edged into the room, and she glanced around for the Project’s captives before returning her gaze to John. All on the other side of the room. Pinned. Fuck.

“Hope County Sheriff’s Department.” She announced, staring the Baptist down, ignoring the grin that crept onto his face - like he found it fucking funny. “Weapons on the ground. Step away from the hostages.”

“Hostages?” John snorted. He gestured Pastor Jerome, Mary May, and Nick. “These are guests! This is their Atonement. This is your Atonement.”

“Drop the fucking weapons.”

John’s patience thinned. Quickly. “I’m not doing this with you.” He replied simply. “Not today.”

With his own look around the room, John inclined his head. An unspoken order to which everyone carrying a gun turned them on her allies.

“We both know you don’t have enough bullets for everyone. Nor do you have the time. So why don’t you put down my gun and surrender.”

“Don’t-” Mary May was cut off with the tap of steel against her temple. Warning.

John was right. She was outnumbered. There was no chance of getting any of them out with force alone.

She inhaled. Exhaled. Watched the fondness slip back onto John’s face like it had never left, and set the gun on the floor.

“That’s my girl.” John murmured. Then, he motioned. “Get her ready.”

Cora’s stomach dropped as two sets of arms coiled around hers, each pulling and pushing, prickling at her skin with unfamiliar, sickening touch. Biology told her to resist. Escape the sensation. The downward pulling.

“No, stop it.” Escaped her while she squirmed. “Get off. Stop touching me-”

“Her friends can’t be far. Find them.” The Baptist ordered, turning away toward the pulpit.

Cora’s knees hit the floor. There was no holding the repetition of protests, but even as she consciously elevated the volume of her voice, it grew quieter in her ears. Calculated attempts to jerk away and make an escape became automatic twitches.

One of John’s followers - a female - crept into view, fingers tugging at the top button on her uniform collar. John readied a tattoo gun over the woman’s shoulder, and the Deputy’s mind screamed alarm bells. Get out. Escape. Fight back. Regain control.

“I won’t hurt you, sister.”

This time, she sank, curling forward, angling herself away from the woman. Another attempt, and she wrenched away again, snarling. Then, the Peggies around her must have gotten tired of all the fuss, because the tear of cotton clawed at her ears. Ringing through her brain.

Her back felt cold all of a sudden.

Green material slipped down her arms, and at the sight of her own uniform pooling in shreds in her own lap, Cora ceased her thrashing. The shredded shirt was yanked from her belt and tossed aside, and she watched with growing resignation while John turned back around.

His gaze found hers. Then flickered downward, first to the compression bra, then a margin to the right. “Here I thought you’d be unmarked.” He commented, inspecting what was visible of the old ink on her lower ribs while he approached.

Hands pressed against Cora’s shoulders, and she drifted back until her shoulder blades hit the floor.

John continued to loom until he stood directly over her. He sank to his knees, expression softening with his descent until he was on all fours on top of her. He looked almost adoring, and she hated how it comforted her, just slightly. She hated how the hands had disappeared from her limbs, and yet she still made no further attempt to escape. He had every ounce of power now.

She didn’t know she’d started trembling until his free hand swept over her collarbones, mapping out her chest, calming the gooseflesh beading on her from the chill, or the fright, or perhaps just that this whole thing felt so humiliatingly exposing.

A blush swelled over John’s throat, maybe indicating some straying line of thought. He snapped out of it and settled to sit on her hips. “This looks familiar, doesn’t it?” He teased, hovering the tattoo gun right over the centre of her sternum.

“Dont.” Was all she could manage. Weak. Pleading. “I don’t want you to.”

“You have no idea how good you’re going to feel after this.” John cooed.

One of his fingers drifted along her jaw. An attempt at comforting her, but to no avail. He looked equal parts gentle and feral with excitement.

The machine buzzed, lowering pitch when the needles finally pressed into her flesh.

This was it.

She’d lost. There was no going back, anymore. No more normal, no more ridding herself of this family. They’d taken everything, and now they were claiming ownership over her, too.

The others were being hunted. It was only a matter of time. John was working too quickly. They’d be gone before the Cougars even crossed the river.

Cora’s nerves muted. Sound closed to just the rumble of blood in her ears. She receded into herself. Found a backseat in her mind, away from the sensory overload and the humiliation and her own failure while her body quietly continued: ”Dont, don’t, stop.”

She’d lost, and John wouldn’t stop. Not while he was branding the evidence of his victory into her flesh.

Defeat tasted worse than anticipated.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bullets whizzed overhead while Sharky and Hurk took cover beneath the window, watching helplessly as the aisle of potato chips and bar nuts was torn to shreds by the onslaught. Dorito dust filled the shop like mustard gas.

“Cuz, I think they found us!” Hurk barked, snapping an arm over his head in defence when a stray round ricocheted off the front counter.

“What gives you that impression?” Sharky hit back, hurriedly setting down his shotgun and shrugging his backpack to the floor.

“How many are there?”

“How about you check?”

“How about you check?”

A moment of quiet occurred while the cousins glared at each other, leaving their standoff to a battle of no blinking. Then the Peggies outside must’ve finished re-loading, because the back wall of the shop was suddenly being shot into swiss cheese.

They were okay. Everything was cool. Addie and Xander had taken their share of explosives and gone the quiet route. Grace and Jess were gone. Shorty had disappeared into the church, and while he couldn't count the best, Sharky was pretty confident that John had caught her.

Could they have kept on looking for survivors and breaking out captives? Sure - but why do that when they could kill, like 40 birds with one stone and beeline for the gas station? It was conveniently across the road from the church, empty of any and all life barring the dormant tanks underground. An explosion that big was sure to fuck up like a good portion of Main Street. Not even the Chosen would be able to resist checking it out.

Disconnecting the safety switches had been easy. He’d been arrested for doing it like 5 times already. Cops, Peggies; it didn’t matter - Sharky knew what he was doing, and without the giant swinging dick of the law hanging over him, the man was on a mission. Cultists shooting at him was fine. He was used to that.

Threat of death or no, he wasn’t giving up the chance to see this place blow sky high.

“We’ll be outta here any second, Hurky.” Sharky assured. “Just gotta sprinkle a little C-4 around the place and we’ll be gone before it even goes off.”

Hurk was sweating. A lot. He was accustomed to being shot at, but normally, he had more than just Sharky to get him out of a tight spot. “Alright, bro. Gimme some. Many hands and what have you.”

“Fuck yeah. First step, toss some at the tanker outside. We wanna get the place as fiery as possible up here to wake up the big boys underground, and-”

Sharky stopped in his tracks, eyeing the backpack he’d just been in the process of unzipping.

“-uhh.”

“Uhh?”

“Hurky, can I be real with you?”

“Is now the best time for a deep and meaningful?” Hurk hissed, crawling toward him nonetheless.

The arsonist stuck his hand down the pack, rifling through fluff and mesh. “I, uh, I think I brought the wrong bag. And by think I mean know without a shadow of a doubt.”

Hurk watched as his cousin tugged the green, furry headpiece of a dragon out into the open.

“You brought-...”

“I brought my fursuit.”

“Not the C-4?”

“Not the C-4.”

“Okay, bro. That's fine. I'm not mad. Human error. Not even a little bit?”

Sharky checked again, just for good measure. “Nope...so, uhm...you got a match?”

Hurk ran a hank through his hair. “Not to poo poo your ideas, but that probably ain’t the best move.”

So just like that, they were fucked.

Jess and Grace still hadn’t come back. The others were nowhere to be seen. Shorty was holed up in that church, and he and Hurk were about to be rounded up by born-again virgins.

Shit, if that were the case -

“Well, if this is gonna be the last opportunity.” Sharky grunted, tugging the suit out and unzipping the back. “May as well enjoy our last minutes of freedom, huh?”

Hurk took the cue, creeping across the destroyed shop floor and reaching for a popped bag of pretzels. He sat back against the wall, leaning against the rocket launcher he’d propped up against the corner.

“Man.” The brunette sighed, staring at the floor. “If only we had some other kind of ranged, explosive device.”

“No shit.” Sharky agreed. “Some high velocity shit would fix this.”

They exchanged a sympathetic look once the arsonist had zipped himself up and crept over and sit beside his cousin, both leaning on either side of the RPG.

Hurk held out the bag.

“Pretzel?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Was that so bad?” John asked, placing the tattoo gun aside and framing the Deputy’s marked chest. ’WRATH', in true black, beading with blood. The skin surrounding the text was mottled and inflamed. Excess ink covered the area in patches, gathering in the dip of her cleavage, disappearing beneath her sports bra.

All that sin, already leaking out through the exit he’d made for her.

Gorgeous.

Cora didn’t respond. That was fine. Shock was normal. She’d thank him once this was all over. For now, she just trembled, lock jawed, dissociated gaze searching what John had thought was him until he sat up. No, instead she was watching the ceiling.

John flashed a smile, blocking out a tiny streak of dread at the sight of the woman so vacant. Sweeping a lock of stained hair over her shoulder, he smoothed his fingers past her neck, attempting to gently angle her focus back to him. “Hey. You can come back now. We’re all done.”

You're finally on the other side. React to it. React to me. Look at me-

The boom came first, hollow and deep, and John felt the floor beneath him rumble. Chandeliers and decorations wobbled from the disturbance. Several of his followers shot from their seats, immediately abandoning the Resistance leaders they’d guarded in favour of pacing back and forth, trying to get a look at whatever was happening outside.

“Is this it?”

“Is it the Collapse?”

“It’s time?”

“John, is it the Collapse?”

The panic escalated quickly, forcing the Baptist to break his attention away from the empty woman below him and rein in the flock.

“Calm down.” He exclaimed, “It’s not the Collapse. It’s probably just-”

Another boom. Almost deafeningly loud.

This time, the whole church shook. Windows shattered in their creaking panes and smashed to the floor while pews squealed heavily in protest.

Contrary to his assertion, John dove down, covering the Deputy with his body. Holy shit, was it the Collapse?

The tremor must have been enough to snap Cora out of her trance, because a muffled “Get your tits out of my face.” buzzed against John’s chest.

Tragically, however, the Baptist never got the opportunity to reply to her. Had it not been for the fucking tennis shoe colliding with the side of his skull, he imagined he’d have something very clever to say. Alas, pain shot through his head and he jerked to the side, fighting against the blow to stay put. A snarl from Mary May, his apparent attacker, sounded in retaliation. She dove into him, knee driving into his ribs, throwing him off of the Deputy.

His thoughts left him for the briefest moment, overtaken by ensuing gunshots and shouts and the shrieks of the bartender as she was clawed away from him. Her hand shot forward right as she was yanked up, intended as a punch. It didn’t land, and John couldn’t help but shoot her a smirk for her failure.

“Deputy, gun!”

Nevermind. It wasn’t a punch after all. Mary May had been pointing over his shoulder at the revolver that had been surrendered on the floor. His revolver. The same one Cora was now scrambling toward.

No.

John lurched, heart leaping into his throat.

Not now. Not after he’d won. Not when they were so close.

His hand found the leg of Cora’s pants, wrenching, pulling her away from the weapon, and she kicked against him. Her finger tips slid against the barrel of the revolver, tugging it into her palm.

God wouldn’t fucking undo his victory.

John snarled, catching the Deputy’s wrist when she tried to aim - at him no less. Without her own recovery time achieved, he was able to wrestle the weapon from her easily enough, flattening her struggling body beneath his just long enough to hook an arm around her waist. He twisted around, holding the woman’s back against his belly. Her squirming ceased with the press of the muzzle against her head, and the moment her allies had taken notice of the change, everything went still.

Finally.

A little civility.

Several of John’s followers lay on the floor, either dead or close to it. Only a half-dozen remained, though the pair of Chosen had survived and placed themselves closest to their leader.

Pastor Jerome had procured a handgun from within his own bible - something that pulled a breathless laugh out of John as he surveyed the others. Nick hadn’t been able to arm himself, but he’d still tackled one of the faithful to the ground. His knuckles were bloodied. A familiar sight. Mary May had wrestled a gun of her own away from the woman who’d seized her. She aimed it shakily at John.

Armed but outnumbered, outgunned, and now, they were in check.

They never learned, did they?

“The way you people behave, you’d think salvation was a bad thing.” John tittered. “Right. Now, let’s try this again. Atonement, or damnation.” To punctuate his meaning, he tapped the muzzle against Cora’s head. She grunted in protest, and he ignored her. Of course it was a bluff. No one else knew that but him, though. It was too risky a move for the Resistance to let him do away with the one person that banded their factions.

She was their leader. They couldn’t lose her.

John looked around the room once more, locking eyes with Jerome first - then Mary May. “Are we going to behave?”

The answer was immediate and clear: a gunshot cracking through the Baptist’s ears and the flash of a blast spilling from Mary May’s weapon. Cora’s elbow driving into his stomach and the reaction time of his Chosen snapping to attention, covering him, already hauling John out of the church and onto the street.

Fuck no, he wasn't leaving without his prize.

"GRAB HER!" John howled, struggling against the attempts to get him to safety. "Leave the rest!"

It was a reluctant effort, but the Deputy was yanked along as well, shoved into Johns arms on his repeated orders, with me, with me.

“Mary May, what the fuck!” The Deputy roared over her shoulder.

“Sorry Deputy! I missed!”

Missed?

“You sure about that? Jesus fucking Christ!”

More shots sounded, but only the noise pursued them from the building. It wasn’t until John had shoved Cora into the back of the waiting truck that he realised how warm his hand had gotten. Wet, too.

“Get to the ranch!” One of the Chosen snarled up front, casting a look back at the Baptist while the vehicle took off, watching as he peeled away from the blonde to inspect himself.

Blood.

He was bleeding. But where from? Barring the sting of his scabs and that kick to the head, nothing hurt. There were no wounds hiding under his sleeves or -

A hiss sounded from the Deputy beside him, curling in on herself.

Shit.

She hadn’t elbowed him.

“Cora-” John scrambled for her. "Cora, let me see."

“Told you not to call me that.” The Deputy grit out, kicking at him until she’d well and truly jammed herself into the corner of the seat and the car door. Her left hand gripped her right forearm, just below the elbow and to no avail. Crimson coated the skin on her side, encasing her arm completely and seeping through her fingertips.

She was bleeding. Not heavily, but steadily.

”Deputy.” John bit back, advancing. “You’re hurt. Let me help-”

Just like that, the kicking resumed. “Don’t touch me-DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME-”

“For once in your fucking life, just relax!”

Only incomprehensible snarling came in response.

John rolled his jaw, brimming with as much irritation as he was adrenaline. The Resistance had made their choice. Regretful, but final. He’d gotten what he came for, and he wasn’t intending on losing her just because she was too stubborn to accept help.

He glanced at the revolver still in his grip. Then back at Cora, rotating the grip toward her. A threat. “Are you going to let me help, or am I going to have to calm you down?”

“Don’t you dare.” Her words came hoarse. She gave scowling a red hot go, but without the rationale to deny him, the Deputy lacked conviction. She exhaled. “Fuck it. We've done this enough already. You get ten minutes. Then you’re under arrest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her cheek twitched. A weak chuckle. The slightest flash of acknowledgement as she let him press his weight over her forearm. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t pulsing; nor was there a puncture wound. A gouged strip had been carved into her flesh where the bullet had grazed, but nothing vital seemed to have been struck.

“That - you can keep saying.”

"You're a flirt when you're in shock, Deputy." Had John not been too busy regulating about a dozen other emotions, he might have flushed at her words. For a moment, he just sat there, basking in the borderline friendliness on her face. Then, it occurred to him that they were among watchful company, and he cleared his throat, returning to his task.

Minutes passed. No more words were exchanged. Not until they’d passed the Rye and Son’s sign.

The Chosen in the front passenger’s seat looked over his shoulder, dismissing another over the radio before regarding the Baptist. “The Resistance isn’t making ground. The faithful are still rounding up stragglers, and we’ve taken casualties, but numbers are looking strong. Medic will meet you at the ranch, John. We can deliver our newest sister to the Gate while you recover.”

John inclined his head. “Much obliged. We need this one to stay with us until she’s completed her vows. She can’t be trusted unsupervised, but I won’t put the responsibility of containing her back on our people again.” He looked to Cora, then. Her face had run pale and she’d gone clammy, but she remained upright. Just...woozy. Pacified, for now.

He’d got what he came for. Fuck the rest.

“I have something to say.” The blonde announced, swaying against John’s arm. “I know why Mary May shot me.”

“This another one of your jokes?” John deadpanned.

“This one’s funny, I swear.”

“...go on, then.”

“It’s because I never tip.”

For a moment, Cora looked very satisfied with herself. Then, she retched, slumping forward into the Baptist’s lap when he instinctually jolted out of the potential line of fire. He hurried to steady her, keeping tight hold over her wound, and grimaced while the noise escaped her a second time.

Thank God nothing came out; his shoes would’ve been the first to know about it.

The Deputy didn’t sit back up.

That was fine. So long as she wasn’t dead. So long as she wasn’t fighting back.

“It’s all the sin escaping you.” John explained, off-handed, when a complaining grunt sounded below. “Evil being expelled from your body. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Pretty sure it’s my blood pressure, actually. Soon as I’m good again, you’re history.”

When one disregarded the fact that she’d had a gun trained on him earlier - and the blood drying uncomfortably on his clothes - and the persistent pounding of a headache from Mary May’s heel, this was almost pleasant. The quiet roads. The Deputy, all but atoned with her head on his thigh. Not fighting back. Conceding defeat. Peaceful.

He got what he came for.

He’d won.

He was saved.

Passing his thumb over Cora’s ribs, John’s attention was pulled back to the old ink peeking out from beneath the band of her top. Text, blurred and flattened enough to be years old, and too obscured to decipher.

“Thought I’d be your first.” The brunette murmured.

“Jealous?”

Yes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What’s it say?”

“‘The Mountains Are Calling’.”

A sickening wave of dread passed over the Baptist. The rock forming in his throat, icy and bitter and seizing him against any reply.

The mountains are calling.

Jacob. Joseph. The Trials. Atonement wasn’t the final step. Handing her over to his brothers was the final step.

He got what he came for, but the woman in his arms wasn’t the trophy intended for him.

He was saved. He’d redeemed himself. He’d completed his task and Joseph would permit him beyond the gates. That was all he was supposed to do. That was enough.

That had to be enough.

“‘And I Must Go’.” John completed quietly.

Cora tilted her head a little, not quite looking at him - almost like she was trying not to. “You know John Muir.”

“Not enough to warrant a photo on the bedside table.”

“Shut up.”

There was nothing convincing about the chuckle he offered. He was too busy observing her, studying the side of her face. Committing her to memory as if he hadn’t spent years acquainting himself with every spot and micro-expression.

“Maybe working for you will be bearable.” She murmured, and John’s heart only sank further. "If I don't manage to arrest you."

The mountains are calling.

She still had no idea that all the promises he’d made her had been fabricated. That she wouldn’t be staying. That he’d lied to her.

The mountains were calling. In a few days time, she’d know it. She’d despise him. She’d be taken off his hands and he’d assume his regular duties once again.

He’d saved both of them.

Cora’s thumb absently grazed back and forth on his knee. Ignorant. “Can I ask something?”

It took everything in him not to mirror the action against her skin.

“Of course.”

“Can I start next Monday?”

"What happened to you being such a workaholic?"

"To be honest with you, I'm really fucking tired."

She’d be incredible. Jacob would love her. Joseph would be proud. John had accomplished something near-impossible for his family, and even if the Deputy hated him - even if she forgot him entirely, he was content with the knowledge that he’d have brought her to salvation.

Even if they never saw each other again, he’d know that she’d passed through the gates. That she’d climb to the surface once the world had been scorched clean. She’d rebuild, and marry, and have children, and he’d do the same.

Hopeful anticipation and the agony of longing had never felt so similar before.

“Fine.” John smiled, giving in, sliding his fingers up her arm and coaxing a stray lock of hair out of her face. There were no promises he’d be able to do it again after this. “But on one condition.”

“What?”

“Spend those days with me.”

Cora stirred, angling to peer up at him out of the corner of her eye. She smiled crookedly.

“Deal.”

[writingonesdreams]

Novel prep tag game

WIP Stormkeeper new version

I always end up doing this thingy when the concept is changing XD this like my, what, 6th novel prep tag? Always helps.

FIRST LOOK

1. Describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch)

Cultural scientist Acacia can finally realize her dream of doing field notes in different mage regions, but has to team up with a cold and judgemental bodyguard and his careless dragon-shifting brother in the process.

The story is basically about three exceptional people that don't fit in in various ways - Wes by nature, Kyler by force and Acacia because of her interests - and how they deal with it.

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Is it a novella, single book, book series, etc.)

One novel, maybe a series later on.

3. What is your novel’s aesthetic?

Trains, mountains, cities, lakes and fog, spirts, sandstorms and hurricanes, rain. 

4. What other stories inspire your novel?

Naruto, Frozen 2, Mash, Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke, Star Wars, Atla, Avatar, The greatest Showman. 

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel

MAIN CHARACTER

6. Who is your protagonist?

The protagonist Acacia drives the story with her goal of acquiring field notes for her research. But both Kyler and Wes are main and pov characters.

Acacia is analytical scientist and a imaginative dreamer, passionate but insecure inside. Her quick mind and abstract philosophic thought process is hard to keep up with.

7. Who is their closest ally?

Her reluctant bodyguard Kyler is son of one of the most significant Pulsor families and the most powerful and dedicated Pulsor mage (controls lighting) of his generation - but rather cold and closed off.

Kyler's younger brother Wes is the reincaratnion of a dragon - the rarest and most ancient spirits - basically a god. Mischievous, reckless but cunning, he has never been allowed to leave home before.

8. Who is their enemy?

There are no enemies per se. There are obstacles, energy thieves and Phatoms on the way, people that mean harm when they see someone different, but there is no antagonist. 

9. What do they want more than anything?

Acacia wants to make ethnographic research on the similarities between magic types and the ways of expression and attitude that add up to be the same thing - people living their lives and looking at the world through the taught lenses of their respective magical culture. 

10. Why can’t they have it?

Doing research in different regions is hard, because travelling between regions is limited and dangerous. There are Phatoms, energy thieves and people that hate differences and loathe people interested in magic not their own. 

In the end the biggest obstacle is probably the way hybrid magicians are loathed - it’s considered a betrayal and weakness not to follow one’s born in type and learn other ones as well. Something Acacia loves, and other people like Wes could use.

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

Kyler believes he has failed. Wes that he is not enough. Acacia that magic is the most magical thing. 

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

Commissioned art:

Kyler / Acacia / Wes

PLOT POINTS

13. What is the internal conflict?

Acacia’s internal conflict is mostly about staying true to her belief that different magics can coexist and learn from each other. She is the impact and main driving character of the story - she changes the others and struggles to stay true to herself and her love for different magics and learning from them. 

Kyler’s conflict is about his perfectionalism that was recenltly ruined by his kindapping by the Shadow Cult that forced a magic upon him he hates and he can’t forgive himself for being weak enough to succumb to it. It's something that was forced upon him but became part of him nonetheless.

Wes deals with his original spirit memories not returning as they should.

14. What is the external conflict?

Acacia’s external conflict is about her love for Sight, ability to see nature spirits on another plane of existence and the danger she might lose connection to reality and her body if she spends too much time in it. 

Kyler’s conflict is dealing with the very real consequences of Shadow Craft magic being now part of him. It’s always there when he is torn or angry or hurt, crawling under his skin and he hates he can’t control it completely. 

Wes’s conflict is about finding a balance between his love for his family and the human world and the foreign yearning for his wilder dragon side. 

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?

For Acacia to lose her connection to her body by not being able to stay in the moment. 

For Kyler it would losing control of Shadow Craft and having it rule him.

For Wes it would be being abondoned by his family and brother and losing the life he has when his memories come back and he finds out about his spirit life. 

16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

No magic is really bad. Or good. The key is balance and intent.  

17. Do you know how it ends?

I can envision several ending scenes that would fit, they all mostly fit together. 

BITS AND BOBS

18. What is the theme?  

The main theme is self-worth, from self-understanding, acceptance of who you are with all the sides and flaws and yearnings and self-love and confidence in who you are and going after what resonates with you. Keeping the storm inside you alive so to say. 

19. What is a recurring symbol?  

Storms? XD The symbols representing each of the four main magics are moon sicle, sun, lightning bolt and a spiral. 

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description!)

It’s set in modern age in a made up country divided into four regions accoriding to its dominating magic practice. These are also very different in landscapes - from mountain village of Pulsors, skyscapers of Aurals, lake bungallows of Sensors to deserts of Resonants. 

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

The big tentpole scenes are pretty sure, the rest I will figure as I go. 

22. What excited you about this story?  

The way I can use magic types as metaphors for fictional cultures and explore their related views and approaches. The different value systems are much clearer in such a excessive example. 

Also all my favourite tropes fit into the story! From rivals to lovers, brothers, trio dynamics, gradual friendships, bodyguards, spirits, Shifters, reincarnations, dragons, healing, deeling with the fixed and growth mindset, perfectionalism and vulnerbility, how to stay in the present moment, how to find balance, different ways to express emotions, how to deal with differences, understanding vs tolerance vs acceptance, how to find - cope - stay true as well as have faith and confidence in who you are...all questions I'm personally very curious about.

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!  

Building and living with characters in countless AUs, finding their arcs and a story to best realize them, magic system, themes and thematic questions I want to explore, finding a story to frame those, brainstorming, outlining and hopefully writing before the idea loses its spark. 

***

Tagging if you want to play: @catharticallysarcastic @akindofmagictoo @estrella-writings @zielenbloesem @waysofink

[minyoonmeme]

Normalcy of the Pretty Posse

Chapter 1 

Word Count: 2494

Pairing: reader x ?????

Genre: like 90% fluff, 10% stupid jokes and bad humor

Description: Stupid Jeongguk and his cute sweaters and pretty posse of hyungs. 

(Disclaimer: This will probably have some typos. I started writing this instead of doing some Statistics homework and spent so long on it that I have zero time to edit. Sorry~)

next

masterlist

There was no game plan. There never really had been, at least not for me. Making it past 16 was something I had never foreseen, never imagined I could do. And now, here I am, alone in a country in a university far from home with no idea how life is supposed to go. Okay, maybe I’m being pessimistic because I’m not completely alone. I have friends if you count the two idiots who don’t let me drown in takeout boxes on weekends. They’re wonderful, they really are, I promise. 

Yoonjin is the sweetest person I’ve ever met no matter how much I want to strangle her into putting herself first. She’s the one who calls me about anything and everything. Don’t tell her that I secretly love that she calls me first when something happens. Chaebin is my right hand gal. My broski. My homegirl. My uh… well she’s great honestly. She’s all bark and no bite with the strongest affiliation for cute things, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. These two are pretty much my whole life other than the impending doom of my failing future that I have chosen to personally personify. Makes it less scary if it's punchable, honestly. 

“Are you gonna actually do your work or are you gonna stare at your coffee all day?

Rolling my head to the side, I eye Chaebin with the blankest face I can muster. 

“I didn’t ask to be criticized when I asked you to come to the library with me.” 

“No, but you did ask me to make sure you finish your paper in time for practice tonight. Yoonjin will cry if you let her go by herself again.” I groan, throwing my head against the cushion of the booth’s chair. She’s right, I know she is. I’ve missed two weeks of dance workshops and Yoonjin, without missing a beat, after every workshop comes knocking on my door teary eyed and sputtering about how she was all alone and lost without me there. Food usually helps soften her up. 

“You think she’ll forgive me if I miss just one more week?” Chaebin twitches her eyebrow up as she side eyes me from her computer. I slump even further and push my laptop farther away in favor of laying my head down. “You’re right. She’ll probably accuse me of abandoning her and our friendship if I skip one more time.” 

“I’ve literally seen you pump out a 12 page research paper in 3 hours, just go dance or whatever tonight and stress yourself later.” 

“Anxiety and Red Bull are a toxic combo, but I’ll have you know that I got a 94 on that paper.” Smiling smugly, I turn my head to look at her. She’s not wearing her glasses today, so it’s hard to tell if she’s glaring at me or blind today. “If I bail, are you gonna be okay by yourself? I can swing by afterwards with Yoonjin, so you don’t have to walk home alone tonight.” 

Her glare softens as she shakes her head no before grabbing some eyedrops. Oh. So she is wearing her contacts. “No, I’ll be okay. I came packing.” Her right hand pats her bag before she smirks and continues searching through her syllabus. 

I eye her bag warily and half jokingly say, “Please, tell me you don’t have a gun.” 

Her face scrunches as she stares at me. “Are you stupid? Why would I have a gun? I meant I have my phone and a taser. Do I look like I know how to shoot a gun?” 

I shrug and start packing up my bag. My joints scream and pop from being stationary so long. “I am, do I look like I know how to shoot a gun? You never know Chae, I could be a highly skilled marksman just waiting to take someone out. I might not even be a real college student, just a really good undercover assassin.” 

Her nose twitches as she clicks open a few browsers. “You almost cried last night when you saw a stray cat ignore you. I highly doubt you’re killing anyone these days.” 

“Animals love me and that one hurt, don’t use my feelings against me. Don’t you remember when you cried because you thought I was ignoring you last year?” Her face dropped as she coughed into her shirt, trying to hide the red splotches. “I was literally sick for three days and you came to my apartment with food because you thought I hated you. What was it you said? Something about not being allowed to hate you if you fed me.” 

“We don’t talk about junior year, I was going through it.” Her voice was tight, but I could tell she was amused. “It’s almost 6 o’clock, you should text Yoonjin and tell her that you’re not abandoning her tonight.” She slides my bag towards me and lets me scoot past her out of the booth. 

“Yoonjin and I will be by later to walk you back to your apartment around 9:30. Sound good?” My legs wiggle as I try and get a feeling back into them from sitting so long. When I stand there longer than normal, her eyes flash up as she nods and waves her hand at me to leave. 

To: Yoonjin the Trash Bin

You wanna meet outside the commons tonight or walk over together?

From: Yoonjin the Trash Bin

WAHH 

YOU”RE COMMING? No more awkwardly standing in the back by myself!?!?!? :)))))))

[crying egg dog.pdf]

let’s meet in the the commons

To: Yoonjin the Trash Bin

7? By the double doors upstairs?

From: Yoonjin the Trash Bin

No, no, no my friend come ASAP. We have much to discuss.

To: Yoonjin the Trash Bin

Uh okay???? See you in like 10 minutes I guess??? 

From: Yoonjin the Trash Bin

See you! <3

_______________________________________________________________________

“You actually did come.” Yoonjin’s hand reaches out and pinches my arm before she settles back against the wall. “I thought for sure your text was all some weird daydream I had conjured up.”

“Chaebin convinced me that our friendship was on the line if I left you alone at another workshop for the third week in a row.” My bag landed on the ground as I slide down next to Yoonjin. Her hair, newly cut and dyed to a short choppy greyish purple bob, was still something I needed to get used to. Yoonjin had failed her midterm last week and as a result decided that her hair would rejuvenate her life and, thus, her will to study. I still don’t think she’s bought her textbooks for this semester yet, but that’s not my business. 

“As she should! It was your idea to start coming to these dance things, and you left me!” Despite her anger, she still turned her smoothie toward me as an offering. “I look like a loose limbed monkey in there. At least with you there, you explain the steps to me.” I choke on the smoothie a little bit, as she crosses her arms.

“Loose limbed monkey? Yoon, you look fine! These workshops are meant for people who don’t have dance experience. It was your idea to try dancing, I just found a place to do it” Her face contorts as she sips on her smoothie again, shaking it to mix it up and get some frustration out. 

“It wouldn’t be so bad if people like you or Jeong-fucking-guk didn’t kept coming. It’s not fair to suck and then have to watch you two just like magically do it.” Her head gets thrown back with a thud as she grunts. Immediately I laugh and rub the back of her head in oder to soothe the soon to be ache. 

“I can go if you want since you seem to not want me or Jeongguk here apparently.” Her eyes dart over to me in the most non threatening but threatening way possible for someone like her. “Okay, so I’ll stay. Make your mind up Yoonjin, I can’t keep playing these games with you.” I click my tongue against my teeth as she smacks my thigh closest to her. “You said something about Jeongguk coming right? Since when does he come out to these things? I thought he was a dance and choreography minor? Shouldn’t he be with the big dogs or something in like a real class dancing?” 

Yoonjin hums, offering me the rest of her smoothie. It’s a green looking health smoothie from a self proclaimed health bar down the street. It’s for sure my favorite, and definitely not her’s, so I take it and nudge her as a thanks. “That’s the thing, I didn’t even know he went to these things. Usually I just hang out with you and everyone else who hides in the back with me, but last week he came up to me and asked if you were still coming.” I raise my eyebrows in surprise and nod for her to continue. “I told him you’ve been busy and he kinda just nodded and shuffled away. He did tell me to tell you to take it easy though.” “Were you ever planning on telling me that a boy approached you about me?” 

“I'm telling you now and that’s all that matters. Besides, I thought you swore off men after the mishap freshman year with that one Tinder date.” 

Immediately my face heats up, and I grimace at the memory. “We don’t talk about that for a good reason, you brat.” If she’s mad I called her a brat, her smug smile doesn’t show it. I go to open my mouth and further yell at her for bringing up the traumatizing story when a pair of black heavy boots skids to a stop by my stretched out legs. 

Okay, so here's the thing about Jeon Jeongguk . He is terrifyingly good looking. So much so that looking at him hurts, like physically hurts. Jeon Jeongguk could punch me in the face and I would say thank you for the attention and bow before passing out. Okay, that’s perhaps way too far but he is attractive and built. God, is he built. And he’s not even an asshole about it! Most guys who exercise thrive on showing off their bodies and flaunting their muscles. Not Jeon Jeongguk , though., Nope! Jeongguk wears sweaters and button ups that make him resemble a Korean version of Mr. Rogers. All smiles and kind eyes with a heart of gold. Men like Jeongguk are the reason I have heart issues and top notch acting skills. 

“You’re back!” My eyes blink a few times at Jeongguk before I register that he's looking at and me actually speaking. When I don’t say anything Jeongguk fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt and looks at Yoonjin before letting out a cough. He speaks a little calmer now, more airy and rushed. “Yoonjin said you’ve been busy and I was worried you weren’t gonna come back ‘til next semester. Not that I worried about you or like not not worried about you, but uh…” He sputtered a little and lets out a small huff of air before ruffling his hair back. My lips pressed together as I swing from internally swooning over his cuteness to the attractiveness of him pushing his hair back. “It’s good so see you back. Hobi hyung, says it's good to have some experienced people in the class to encourage and help beginners.”

“Is that why you keep coming too?” 

Maybe he doesn’t expect my question or for me answer him at all, but he blinks a little too hard and shyly looks over my shoulder rather than my face. It’s cute and maybe it makes a smile break out on my face. Just maybe though. “Yes! Hobi-hyung asked me to help him since he can’t uh ya know help everyone at once.” He doesn’t sound too sure of himself, but I let it go seeing as this is our first comprehensible conversation. 

“That’s sweet of you to help your hyung for free. Does Hoseok-shi think I’m there to do the same? I feel a little bad missing the past two weeks if you’ve been doing it all by yourself.” I frown and pinch my eyebrows a little tighter, looking the direction of the doors. Should I apologize? Yoonjin beside me, I can tell, has grown more and more interested in our conversation as she undoubtedly is texting our group-chat with Chaebin about what's happening. She nudges me to focus when the conversation stalls a little. The nerve of her, I swear.

Jeongguk , getting redder and slightly more panicky, shakes his head no a little too roughly. His hair looks a little messed up, and I nearly squeal with the need to fix the adorable mess that he is right now. Outside, however, I just smile softly and encourage him to explain. “Hobi-hyung and I are okay, you’re just like an added bonus to class cause you know you obvious have some experience with your technic and seem to pick up the dances quickly.” It’s a little rushed, but I think I make out everything he’s saying.

“Are you trying to say I’m a good dancer Jeongguk ?” It’s meant to be lighthearted and playful, but Jeongguk physically widens his eyes and looks everywhere, but in my direction for a few seconds before he stops trying to voice anything out just nods. My hands clasp in my lap as a I suppress a smile and will the flush to disappear from my cheeks. “Thanks, you dance really well too. I can see why you’re studying dance.” 

Jeongguk whispers the faintest, “Thank you,” before shoving his thumb in the direction of the door indicating that he’s gonna help them set up for the workshop. I wave goodbye and watch as he does the same and dashes behind the door. Now that he’s gone, I can breathe a little easier. That was probably the weirdest experience I’ve had today, or this week for that matter. Pretty people don’t just go up to me and talk, let alone me of all people. And when I say pretty people, I mean pretty people like Jeongguk and his pretty posse of friends.  Jeongguk and his hyungs are just uncommonly so pretty and somehow together all the time. Even now Jeongguk is inside with Jung Hoseok, a graduate student who hosts the beginner dance workshops on Thursday. The fact that  Jeongguk even talked to me, or asked about me last is enough to twist my insides a little. Normal people talk to people all of the time, but  Jeongguk was not normal and his hyungs are not normal. I mean they are, but they project this ethereal aura that just intimidates everyone. So, why for the love of God was Jeon Jeongguk just talking to me?

“Are we gonna talk about what just happened or are you gonna keep staring at the door?”

“Shut up, I'm trying to process everything.”

[official-impravidus]

Just A Kiss (i don’t wanna mess this thing up)

Peter had been a fan fiction writer for quite some time. When he was in middle school, his schedule balancing robotics club, band, and AcaDec, he needed a creative outlet that wasn’t rigidly confined by STEM or saxophone repetoire.

So, he found himself writing stories.

They weren’t good. They were actually quite horrendous at first, but he expressed his love for the Star Wars stories, exploring character interactions in as many ways as he could imagine. He made canon divergent fix-it fics and cringey OC fics and even modern high school AUs.

However, as he grew older, his skills blossomed, just from the sheer magnitude that he wrote.

Every day, when he got back from his extracurriculars, already having finished his homework during school, he would find himself at the chunky computer he had rebuilt from garbage scraps, typing away until Ben called him for dinner, and then back at the keyboard when he finished washing the dishes.

It wasn’t until Spider-Man entered his life did his stories really get somewhere.

Peter had become known for his hyper-realistic, extremely detailed action sequences. After a particularly long patrol, he took notes on form and the choreography of it all, the different way that the criminals attempted to fight against him.

Of course, he took a lot of creative liberty to adapt the fights to fit his characters, but people appreciated the ebb and flow, how it didn’t focus on the gore, but instead the intricacies of technique and battle preparation.

But, his modest AO3 following wasn’t something that he broadcasted in his real life. There were enough reasons for people to make fun of Peter Parker, and he didn’t want to add to the list.

So, after almost a year of knowing Harley Keeer, Peter didn’t think to mention it.

Harley was great. He was really, really, really great, and Peter didn’t want to ruin what he could only hope was respect and mutual friendship that he shared with Harley by divulging his deepest, darkest secret with him. (Because despite what one would think, Spider-Man was not his deepest, darkest secret.)

Because Peter maybe, just maybe, just maybe a teensy tiny little bit, had a big, fat, embarrassing, brain-goes-offline-and-he-makes-stuttering-static-noises-when-he-tries-to-talk crush on Harley.

Harley was effortless charismatic. He was funny in a dry and sarcastic kind of way that could keep up banter for what felt like hours. He was kind in a genuine benevolent generosity kind of way. He was intelligent, and he made it very clear that he was competent and capable. He was confident, unwavering and strong. And he was really pretty. Sparkling blue eyes and soft, bouncy blonde hair, and a crooked smile.

So, sue him! Harley was dreamy and exactly Peter’s type.

So, when Harley approached him one morning, Peter slurping down a mango smoothie, saying “hey, Peter, so I was checking out your AO3,” was it really his fault that he snorted it out of his nose and coughed for a good two minutes in pure shock and also so he could delay the conversation as much as he could?

Class started before Harley could bring it up again that day.

But Peter knew it was coming.

The two were lounging in Harley’s room, Peter at his desk finishing his research essay for AP Lit, and Harley lying on the carpeted floor, scrolling silently on his phone.

“I just finished “ Thnks Fr Th Mmrs (even if they weren’t so bad) ,” Harley announced.

Peter choked. “ What ?!”

“Yeah, it took me a good couple hours because I mean, Jesus, 236,000 words, but I finished, and I gotta say, wasn’t expecting that ending.”

Peter swiveled around in the rollie chair. “How did you find my AO3?”

“It’s linked on your Tumblr,” Harley said with a shrug. “Anyways, I know that it was tagged major character death, but killing off Rey like that, I mean, that was heartbreaking. I felt physical pain in my chest while reading that. I didn’t even know a book could do that.”

“You read my fic?” Peter asked.

Harley looked to him, confused. “Yeah, I said that didn’t I? I’ve been reading your whole page, though it’s gonna take me some time because you’ve got like at least a million words total.” He scrolled through. “I started from your earliest fics because I figured they’ll just get better the further I get, and I’m about fifteen fics in because that last one was so long, and I don’t have that much free time…”

“Why are you reading my fics?” Peter blurted out.

“Because you wrote them?” Harley responded, as if the answer was obvious. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s… it’s embarrassing.”

“I mean, yeah, your earlier work had some formatting issues with the dialogue and some grammar mix ups, but I wouldn’t say it’s embarrassing. If anything, it’s really well written. Thnks Fr Th Mmmrs got a lot better as it went on.”

“That was my first multi-chap,” Peter said.

“You could tell. At least, at first you could. But like I said, it got better as it went on.”

“You liked it?”

Harley tilted his head. “Yeah. I did. You’re a really talented writer, Peter.” He looked to him with confusion and a hint of hurt. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about this? Did you not trust me? Did you think I was going to make fun of you?”

“No!” Peter said quickly. “Well, I… I just, people think it’s weird. And that I’m weird. And it’s just one more weird thing, and I just didn’t want you to think I was weird.”

“I could never think you were weird,” Harley said softly.

Peter ducked his head, averting his gaze. “So, uh, do you have any notes? The feedback is pretty mixed in my comments, but usually the criticism I receive isn’t quite constructive.”

“Well, your action scenes are impeccable,” Harley said. “You really know how to capture movement. And the team dynamics are spot on. The build of trust and eventual camaraderie doesn’t feel rushed at all, and as a reader, is really fulfilling and satisfying.”

“But?” Peter prompted.

“But,” Harley continued, “the non-platonic relationships are lacking.”

Peter bobbed his head in understanding, hand going to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah…” He sighed. “It’s just, it’s hard, y’know? Because I’ve never… I mean, the closest I ever got was with Liz, and you know how that ended up.”

Harley sat on the edge of his bed. “Have you tried reading it more?”

“I just don’t tend to read that stuff. I’m not… it’s just not as interesting to me because I don’t get it. And that’s the problem. I just don’t get this stuff. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be good at it enough to really retain that information,” Peter said with a pathetic shrug.

“What do you have trouble with?” Harley asked, leaning forward, invested and curious.

“It’s the physical side of things. I don’t… in theory, I get how the feelings should feel. But, getting the logistics of stuff like how it feels when they finally break that physical barrier or how a kiss should be described, I just, I’m hopeless.”

“Well, I could help you?”

Peter looked up. “What?”

“I could show you. And explain it to you. Show you how it should be written.”

Click Here to Read More!

[jesangel1503]

30 Day Challenge:Day 3 Topic

LET´S TALK ABOUT FRIENDSHIP

I can see this is a quite interesting but a bit sensitive topic for me. I just needed a time off to clear my mind so I can be able to cogitate on this familiar topic for everyone.

Let´s go straight to some few facts about friendship? Where did this word even came from?

So I browsed in and found out that friendship is a word of Germanic origin has existed in the English language since its founding in Old English. Back then, ‘friend’ existed as ‘frond’ which was the present participle of the verb fron, ‘to love’. The root of the verb was ‘fr-’ which meant ‘to like, love, or be affectionate to’. We can still see the remnants of this verb every day of the week- Friday or ‘day of Frigg’ is devoted to the Germanic goddess of love Frigg.

Source: whitesmoke.com

So much for it´s root word, let´s do some more researching. Many famous people have shared their thoughts about what friendship is for them. Now, maybe we can get some friendspiration from them!

Helen Keller

"I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light."

J.K. Rowling

"It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends."

Abraham Lincoln

"Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?"

Eleanor Roosevelt

"Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart"

Bob Marley

“The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for”

William Shakespeare

“A friend is one that knows you as you are, understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still, gently allows you to grow.”

Jennifer Lawrence

‘‘No matter how tired I am, I get dinner at least once a week with my girlfriends. Or have a sleepover. Otherwise my life is just all work.”

Marilyn Monroe

“Experts on romance say for a happy marriage there has to be more than a passionate love. For a lasting union, they insist, there must be a genuine liking for each other. Which, in my book, is a good definition for friendship.”

Drew Barrymore

“What’s helped me is having really good friends I know I can rely on. Cameron Diaz is one of the greatest friends anyone can ever have. She has so much love to give.”

Selena Gomez

“Every single problem I ever have is healable by Taylor Swift. If I ever I have an issue, Taylor has gone through it – she gives the most thought-out answers. And what I love about Taylor is that she does believe in the whole love story and Prince Charming and soul mates. Because of her, I haven’t lost faith.”

Emma Watson

“My two best girlfriends are from secondary school. I don’t have to explain anything to them. I don’t have to apologise for anything. They know.”

Jennifer Aniston

“We come from homes far from perfect, so you end up almost parent and sibling to your friends – your own chosen family. There’s nothing like a really loyal, dependable, good friend. Nothing.”

Oprah Winfrey

“Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.”

Ariana Grande

“The best part about having true friends is that you can go months without seeing them and they’ll still be there for you and act as if you’d never left!.”

Whew, they are really inspiring isn´t it? But lemme give you bits of how I view and value friendship. So I´d like to answer some of these challenging questions I have found and that maybe can help me dig in to what´s really coming to my mind about this topic. As you read along, you are free to answer on your own and find out? Well, this is a writing therapy for me. I thought it might be nice to put my thoughts into writing and share it with you ( Well, only if you are interested to do so) But yes, this is entirely my thoughts. Some of you might disagree about my answers and what I have been writing in this little writing space of mine, but I don´t really care! As I have said, this is my therapy. If you judge me based on my thoughts, it´s totally on you and if that amuses you, well IT WILL BE MY PLEASURE :)

QUESTIONS ABOUT FRIENDSHIP

Can you describe one of your closest friends.

It´s so hard to choose which one of them that I particularly should talk about. All of them are special to me in their unique ways. But let me describe you one of my bestfriends, whom I met when I was an aupair in the first town I lived in here in Denmark. It´s funny though because this friend of mine, came to me by fate and the first time we met, we just click, you know. Like she´s that angel from heaven, who´ve brought me and would bribed me with food to keep me from not ditching school, because for her, it would be boring without me, and that she’d prefer me than the other filipino ones at the school. She would just call me and say, “Hey, wake up and get dressed. We´re off to school,and ahh uh don´t even say a word because I am already here, parked outside your house waiting for you. And, I´ve brought us Dinuguan and Pancit for lunch! Hurry!”.. So hard to refuse right? Oh yes, she is that kind. There are no other negative feeling around her, around us everytime we were together. We got along well so fast even at the very first day we´ve met. Since then, we hang out a lot. Sometimes cutting classes and going off to the second hand shop in town together or hit the mall, or just eat out in our favorite eat all you can Asian Restaurant. It´s just pure and honest friendship. I could sense she feels the same way too. It was never hard to be myself when I am with her. You know that feeling where you can´t feel any insecurities at all and you don´t feel that you are judged whenever you are sharing sensitive moments with her. I could say that is one of those few and rare friendship I have that I truly treasure the most. 

Do you have any childhood friendships that are still strong today? Tell us about them.

I have a childhood bestfriend, and we have shared plenty of childhood memories together. I have been born in a family with no sisters so she is like a sister to me. Back then, she was living with her family in a house just a few walks from our house. I always spend time with her at their place when my parents were not home from work and she would come for a sleepover at our house during some of the weekends.. During my trip home last 2017, we were able to spend time together for a week. And still it´s as if things between us haven´t changed at all. She is still that friend who turned into family, and we assured each other that we we´re still gonna have each other´s back no matter what. Up until now, we´re still able to catch up, though I could say only through online. We both think we´re okay with the LDR thing. Haha! 

Do you have any long distance friends?

I have, in fact, so many of them! As I reside now in Denmark, so the only communication we have is the internet. The first one I talked about she lives in the UK and my childhood friend lives in the Philippines. Most of my other closest friends are residing in the Philippines, UK, US, Australia, Canada, Japan and a few ones in the Middle East.  

Do you think it is a good idea to borrow money from a friend? Why or why not?

This is a quite sensitive topic for me. But I do have views regarding friends and money matters. You know, in my entire life, I have tried to avoid situations involving friendship and money. I just don´t. I mean, I cherish people so much, and to ruin a relationship and lose a cherished friend because of money issues is a bit awful for me. I’d rather NOT. Just NO. 🙏🏻

Do you make friends easily?

I can make friends easily. And I do have a loud mouth. I am so excited to meet new people and talk with random people on the street and just smile and say hi. For me, it´s a bit of heartwarming when people comes to you, say hi, talk to you and get excited to know you. So I often think people would also want that. But given the fact that many people are too reserved, I also know my boundaries. It´s only when I feel like people would also wanna chat. I mean, like saying hi to the old lady beside me in a bus full of busy people. It could be lonely to be old, I think. Not many people are interested in talking to them. A few old people I met and talked with, they were all excited and thrilled to talked with me about their day, about their lives and jobs before and what life meant for them. For me, they have seen a lot and experienced a lot from all those years living in this world. It´s just compelling to learn from them! 

Has a friend ever let you down?

I have experienced it many times. But based from it, I always try my best to understand them and listen to them more. Humans as we are, we often make mistakes. And that includes letting a friend down. May it be a small or a big deal, but friends that are meant to last, are the friends, who still thinks of how to mend things up than to make things worst. So a friend´s apology and forgiveness is always the best ingredients to make things last.

If the trust was broken, and there is no way you can bring back what you both have had before. I just let go and pray for them. In life you will learn who you should trust and it´s always gonna be the ones who will still be there for you despite the odds. You will learn a lot by gaining and losing friends. 

Have you made any friends over the Internet?

I do have a plenty of them, with a few true ones though. But I do treat them as rare jewels that have helped me with my sanity being away from my family. I find it peculiar at first, but I have developed such strong bonds online, to take note that we haven´t even met yet! How cool is that!? Knowing and learning from a person you never met, sharing various experiences, thoughts, opinions are quite an overwhelming experience. When you get to know someone online, whom you can confide feelings to especially the things you can never share with anyone from your family or friends personally, was such a great help for me. During my first few months in Denmark, I have suffered a lot from a breakup plus the difficult adjustment phase I was going through by then. Living in a foreign country was quite a challenge for me. Even though I have my cousins and some few friends, but it was not enough by then. Because at the end of a tiring day, alone in a room, it was nice and comforting to have some people online, listening to your rants and cheering you up and helping you get your mind off the negativity and mind bugging thoughts and worries. I could say they are the ones I´d like to keep and hoping I can personally meet some of them someday too!

How do you maintain a good friendship?

I always make time to let them know that I still think and care about them. And of course, to never ever forget each of their special occassions!

How many people do you consider your "best friends?"

4 bestfriends; One is a bestfriend from my childhood years, one bestfriend from highschool, another one from college, one bestfriend whom I met in Denmark. 4 online bestfriends, one of which I already met. 

What is a best friend?

For me, a best friend is a special connection between 2 people, where there is mutual understanding of each other, where there is a bond of trust, openness, willingness to care and look out for one another, despite the distance and circumstances. Where two people feel there is no need pretending, where they can both be themselves when they are together and where two people thinks of each other as their own PERSON to run to, and be comfortable with.

What is the longest friendship that you have had?

My childhood friend; we have been friends since we were so little. So maybe that´s what you call a friend for a lifetime. 

What qualities do you think are important in a friend?

When you don´t get judged by the person and when they don´t talk negative things behind you and without you knowing.

What things should friends never do?

For me, I don´t like to compare myself with my friends. They have their own skills, talents, and own beautiful and unique lives. So maybe that is what a friend should watch out for. Insecurity and jealousy are both destructive in so many ways. Just be happy for a friend´s success and achievements.

Do you think it is possible to have a best friend of the opposite sex without becoming a girlfriend or boyfriend?

Oh, I do have a lot of friends from the opposite sex. I do happen to have one really close to me, so from a certain time, we were calling ourselves bessies. But, it did not last long. We both have jealous partners by then, so to respect each others partners, we agreed to have boundaries and thus avoiding conflicts as much as possible. 

I also often get cringey whenever a male friend of mine that´s close to me, then we´ve had our bond, and then he gets a girlfriend, and i often get jealous, but not that I have feelings for the guy, but as a female friend, I just get jealous and often felt bad about lack of attention from him afterwards. So I tend to not get too close with male friends because I know it will just turn me nuts! But I am improving myself to just be understanding and to wish all the best for them! It is the best thing I could maybe offer to a close male friend of mine if ever.

Do you think it would be possible for you still be friends with an ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend?

Of course, but only if all issues were resolved. So it´s totally okay and possible for me to still be friends with my exes. I mean, they were also a part of my life and we´ve shared some good memories together too! I am teaching myself not to be bitter with the past you know. It´s good not to hold grudge on anyone especially when they were once the people you cared most and loved you as well.

Do you believe your parents should be your friends?

My parents are my friends. And so as my brother. It´s been like that in my family. It always feel better when they are ones comforting you than anybody else.

What do you like best about your best friend(s)?

They are still there for me, even if they are far away, and if I see them again, it´s still gonna be the same, no insecurities, no pretendings and no negativity. 

What are some ways your best friend has influenced your life in a positive way?

One of my bestfriend´s view about God inspired me the most. We have the same thoughts and often go late to sleep talking about a lot of stuff about life and religion. That means a lot to me.

What do you do when you have a misunderstanding with your friend?

If it was my fault, I often offer an apology. And if it´s the other way around, I always show that I can listen and try my best to understand their reason and forgive if necessary.

What type of people do you get along with best?

I don´t prefer any types actually. I just sync in with them. I think when people are meant to have a lasting impression on you, they just do. Because I think the universe conspires the people whom you will meet. Some will come and stay, some will just go and maybe leave something for you to learn. So for me, I just blend in when someone comes along and get on with the flow. I always follow the positivity flow. If i can sense a negative vibe, I tend to not fully entrust myself. Though I give many chances to people, for I always believe that sometimes the people I met and how they are, if they mean or like that negative, is because of what they have been going through in life. May it be a bad experience or a childhood trauma. We should always shed light to these people and give room for them to be understood.

What quality do you admire most in people and which one do you find the most objectionable?

If I happen to met someone who´s mind is just as beautiful as their face or personality, and then it´s just natural for us to have a good conversation in a way that´s not awkward and trying hard. Then it´s my type of person..  I don´t care if we have different views, I am bound to respect all of them. It´s just when a person knows how to choose the right words and right thoughts in that certain moment, then I am going to be rooting for that person. 

Tbh, I don´t fancy people who praises themselves a lot and think that they are always right all the time. And also, even when in an argument, no matter how big or small the issue, it´s always the tone of voice that matters to me the most.  How you say something affects what you say.  

Is getting along with others a natural ability from birth or does it have to be learnt?

For me, getting along with others is a continuing learning process. I mean up to now, I am still learning and developing my skills every day because I love to keep people who are worth keeping. And I believe there is no such skill that one can be born with a natural talent for getting along with others. It must also first be taught at home. The family is the necessary factor to develop one´s values of friendship and we will just continue to learn more and hone it as we venture out into the big world.

How important is forgiveness in human relationships?

I have been taught that it is an essential thing for us to grow and be matured. Forgiving is accepting one´s offering of peace and understanding that he or she have made a mistake and is willing to make up for it. And so as asking for forgiveness. We often commit mistakes and hurt people, that´s how human we are. So it´s important to lower one´s pride and ask for forgiveness, no matter how hard it may be. Accepting one´s own mistakes is an act of maturity, and i can say it´s also not easy but it´s necessary for human´s social growth and behavioural adaptability in the society.

Do you tell your best friend everything?

It´s funny because each of my bestfriends have their own unique qualities; one is better at the whole education and knowledge thing, other one is good at the practical thing and wise things, the other one I can confide some sexual issues and other emotional things and one I can have a good conversation about God and life. So basically, I don´t tell everything to each one of them but I go to one where I need their expertise and where they can also relate from.

Where is a good place to meet a new boyfriend/girlfriend?

I don´t think there is such a good place to meet a new bf or gf. It will just come to you as if the universe worked on it so he or she will get to where you are and bump into you. You just need to be patient. And if there is no one, just be your own gf or bf. What´s important is you love yourself and happiness is from, within you. You can still be happy without someone. You just need to unleash that thought in your mind often.

So much for this friendship thing, I hope I don´t bore you too much. Well, write to me if ever you have other thoughts about what I wrote! Ciao!

[you-did-well-moon]

The Warmth Provided (3)

Type: Fluff, Angst, Crack, College Au, Friends to lovers Au

A/N: Aaand the third and final part is here yayyyy. Did you guys enjoy this mini series?? I really hope you did. Small disclaimer, not all requests I receive will be as big as this! It’s not a real fic if Jackson isn’t in it (i’m kidding) but dang Sungjin really went for it. As my friend Bun said, someone bring a mop bc we need to clean up the mess Sungjin made. Don’t be afraid to talk to me!!

TW: Awkward situations, cussing, toxicity and unrealistic depiction of Sungjin

Part 1| Part 2| Part 3

You got to sleep in since it was a Saturday, and you had no classes on Saturdays. You woke up a little past noon feeling as energized as you had in a while. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel tired even upon just having woken up. There was no soreness or exhaustion plaguing you. Just placidity in the wake of starting the day and anticipation for what the day bought you.

With the weekend, you finally had time to actually make yourself breakfast instead of eating cereal or nothing at all. You cooked yourself something simple with  eggs, bacon, and a pancake since you very well deserved it. You hummed happily to yourself having turned on the Tv for some background noise which paired with the sizzling of the pan on the stove and the sun’s light filtered through the curtains in front of the window. 

You ate your breakfast calmly scrolling through the social media apps on your phone not at all in a hurry since the party didn’t start until 8. Even if you didn’t feel as tired as you did other days, it still felt good to stay at home comfortable and wrapped up in your favorite blankets catching up on your favorite show. You weren’t running all around campus and town trying to balance your school and personal life. 

You eventually got in the shower staying under the warm water for longer than you had to enjoying it as the tension left your body relaxing when the drops of water traveled down the slopes of your body. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about what you would say to Sungjin once you got there. Demand for him to tell you why he was acting so weird? Ease into it? Guilt him into it? You groaned squeezing the shampoo out of your hair and reaching for a towel. Having Jae there would probably distract you. No matter what, you had to avoid Jae as much as you could.

Even if he was the one that invited you, you needed to fix whatever was burdening your friendship with Sungjin. You could deal with your lovesick self later. When your brother wasn’t acting like such a stranger. An annoying stranger at that. 

You stayed in your towel drying yourself off and rubbing lotion on your body. You cleaned your face letting your cleanser dry off before beginning to apply your makeup on. You went for a very light look. You were never one for heavy makeup. You did get a little creative with the eyeshadow, but you didn’t want to mess with the rest of your face afraid of smudging something. 

You didn’t really do anything special to your hair. Letting the soft strands down and making it look nice enough for a party. You started getting ready a bit early since you knew you’d get stuck when it came to picking an outfit. Standing there with your closet door open in a towel with your hair and makeup done, you bit your lip cursing yourself for not going shopping earlier in the month. 

Eventually you picked some leather high waisted leather shorts, a very short crop top you would never go near your father or mother with, and fishnets with black combat boots to finish the look. Looking outside your window at the trees slightly swaying you knew you’d get cold. Looking around your room you saw Jae’s jean jacket hanging off your chair. 

You stared at it for what felt like an eternity hesitation pooling in your stomach, but you eventually aggressively shrugged it on, figuring you could give it back to Jae and stick it out if you got too cold. Checking the time, and you realized you had half an hour before the party started.

Shrugging your shoulders you dug through your jewelry for what might go with your look not really caring if you got there on time. You couldn’t shake off the fantasy that maybe, just maybe Jae  was waiting for you. You smacked your forehead. Today you had to focus on Sungjin before things were damaged to an extent that you could not fix. 

You treasured your best friend too much to let things go that far. The JYP frat wasn’t that far from your apartment. It was around a twelve minute walk. Making sure you had pepper spray in your purse you set right off feeling your phone buzz in your pocket just as you locked your door. 

Bawk Bawk: You didn’t get kidnapped did you?

You: we’re gonna need at least 50k to give her back

Bawk Bawk: Haha very funny

Bawk Bawk: the real y/n would say shes worth 100 chicken nuggets

You : lol you got me there 

You: im already on my way. I need to pay attention to where im walking or else im gonna end up on the opposite side of campus in the sm frat

Bawk Bawk: oh no what a tragedy. Ill miss you asking me where the food is every five seconds. Really how sad.

You: wow Baekhyun wouldn’t treat me like this.

You didn’t get to see his answer instead opening up another contact.

You: Hey Sung, im on my way to the party

Bob: ok

You stared at the little text bubble a little hurt at the indifference, but you had to remind yourself that it was just a text message. Maybe he was busy helping out with the party, even if he really didn’t like the parties, he still helped out. He was just that kind of person. 

A small part of you knew that wasn’t the reason.The party had started around 30 minutes ago which meant they were past the point of setting up for the event. You were about to turn off the device when the sound of a notification broke through the silence surrounding you. 

You felt the weight on your heart slight ease up, a relieved but bittersweet smile breaking on the slope of your mouth. 

Bob: Be careful

Even if he was irked with you for whatever reason, he still worried for you. The short text message gave you hope. It was silly, but the two words were enough to bring a little bounce in your step, deciding that as soon as you got to that party you would seek him out, and you would do whatever you could to get to the bottom of what had put distance between you and your best friend. 

You halted your stride finally standing in front of the JYP frat building. You took a deep breath shaking off the nerves and tugging the jacket tighter around you. You went up the steps knees slightly shaking. Sungjin’s message did bring some ease, but the guy could be stubborn when he wanted to. You just hoped he wasn’t stubborn when it came to your friendship. Pursing your lips you shakily pressed the button to the doorbell.

It didn’t take much for the door to swing open startling you and almost making you fall back. A hand reached out to steady you, and you looked up meeting Wonpil’s warm eyes. You smiled easily consoled by his sweet smile missing the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 

“Wonpil hi, how are you?” He softly laughed, shaking his head.

“I’m pretty sure i’m not supposed to hear colors, but i’ll get through it”

You opened your mouth cackling in disbelief as his hands probed you inside. 

“Have fun, break something and you’ll pay for it and- Jackson! What did I tell you about hanging from the ceiling lights what kind of budget do you think we have man,'' you watched the small man’s frame ambling away and squinted your eyes in amusement, smiling softly. You turned to the rest of the room craning your head to look past all the swaying bodies and flashing lights for the awkward introverted man that was one of your closest friends.

Instead you caught sight of the tall fluffy haired man with glasses sliding down the bend of his narrow nose. You squeaked quickly ducking behind the frame of a stranger as Jae’s head whipped in your direction. You clenched your jaw at the almost slip up. You frowned. You wanted nothing more than to bound up to Jae and see his eyes light up at the sight of you, but you were on a mission. 

You made sure you were out of Jae’s sight as you wracked your brain for where Sungjin might be. He wouldn’t be in where the crowd was bigger and packed. That immediately eliminated the living room, gaming room, and kitchen. That left outside in the patio, the restroom, or his own room. You bit your lip figuring you might as well check outside then head upstairs where both the restroom and his room were. You knew because of the many movie nights you had with Dowoon and Sungjin. 

The many nights of fighting with Sungjin and him scolding you for getting crumbs on his bed only to whine when you moved to Dowoon’s bed. At the end, you always ended up on the floor in a tangled mess probably getting woken up by Dowoon snoring. You set your shoulders making your way to the kitchen since that’s where the doors to get outside were located mumbling apologies to people you bumped into.

You kept your head low mumbling under your breath about how stupid this was that you even had to do this, because for some reason, Sungjin was acting odd and detached. You entered the kitchen eyes raking over everyone's faces just in case Sungjin was there. You didn’t see him, but you saw the other part from your trio. Dowoon was talking to Bang Chan with a relaxed smile on his face and a drink in his hands.

Maybe he knew where Sungjin was saving you the trouble of looking for him. You started walking in his direction, “Hey Woon,  I wish I could stay and talk, but do you know where Sungjin is?” Dowoon narrowed his eyes at you, as you smiled in greeting at Chan. 

“Not even a hi wow, i thought you were better than this. I thought we had a special bond” he clicked his tongue acting annoyed but still reaching out to you pulling you into him for a side hug. You huffed poking harshly at his side, snickering when he whined and recoiled. 

“Fine you brat, he just went upstairs to get something from his room. Here, I'll come with you. I need to go to the restroom anyways. Sorry to cut this short, but i have to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid” he put his drink on the kitchen island, and you and Chan looked at each other shaking your heads both knowing who was making sure who didn’t do something stupid. You shrugged your shoulders wincing as Chan’s shoulders shook slightly with laughter. 

You swiveled around to follow Dowoon who had already begun walking towards the stairs near the entrance of the kitchen when you abruptly came to a stop. Heading down the steps was the exact person you were looking for. Even in the shifting lighting you recognized him.

You called your best friend’s name already striding towards him and reaching out towards his frozen frame. He looked shocked to see you, his eyes troubled and eyebrows pulled together looking distressed. His body shifted back as if he was contemplating running back up the stairs.

Your hand managed to grasp the end of his shirt. “Sungjin-” you were interrupted by a wobbly yell from the living room. “Seven minutes in heaven time ladies and gents. Don’t be shy, half of you won’t even remember this ever happened,” the awfully cheerful voice that sounded suspiciously like Younghyun  somehow managed to be louder than the talking and blaring music.

You turned back to Sungjin but both of you were suddenly being pulled to the living room by Dowoon who simply said “This should be funny. Let’s go watch” you tried resisting and talking to Sungjin but he was also too busy trying to fight Dowoon’s hold on him. 

You were sat down on one side of the circle in between Dowoon and Sungjin. It all happened so fast you looked at Sungjin and tried getting his attention but was stopped by someone looking at you from the corner of your eye. 

You swallowed feeling your heart sink slightly being able to distinguish Jae’s form even from your limited sight. You slowly turned your head in his direction offering him a quivering smile wondering just how everything had managed to get messed up in such a short amount of time. He titled his head obviously confused at why you hadn’t told him you had arrived but still managed to grin back at you causing you to feel slightly bad. 

Even after the small greeting, his gaze didn’t leave you, but you were the one to break eye contact first turning to the man on your right. You gently grabbed his arm pulling at his sleeve to get his attention. He gradually turned his head to look at you, sad dull eyes looking into yours. 

“I need to talk-” you were once again interrupted by Younghyun’s voice calling the turn of the first player. 

Jae.

You felt yourself halt all movement, air leaving your lungs. You whipped your head around in his direction watching him roll his eyes at Wonpil’s light teasing. You could only focus on Jae as he slightly leaned to get closer to the bottle reaching out for it with a focused expression. 

His eyes briefly flickered to your wide ones before going back to the bottle hesitating slightly before spinning it. You had completely forgotten about Sungjin who was also watching the bottle spin with baited breath gaze landing on your form to take in your reactions.

Your heart skipped a beat everytime the bottle pointed it’s devilish finger at you while on the move. Of course, you wanted it to be you, but there was so many people in the circle the chance of the stupid bottle landing on you was close to none. Suddenly Younghyun pushed Wonpil into the circle making the smaller man stumble and put his foot in the bottle’s path while trying to regain his balance. 

Wonpil’s interference made the bottle come to an abrupt stop pointing solely at one person. 

You. 

You felt your entire body go cold taking in a shaky breath and meeting Jae’s own wide eyes behind the rims of his glasses. You felt your face grow hot seeing Wonpil and Younghyun high fiving each other in the background. You wanted to laugh at the clicheness of it. It seemed everybody had known you and Jae were in love before you and Jae. 

You looked at Dowoon and Sungjin unsure of your next actions. Dowoon simply smirked at you wiggling his eyebrows and giggling under his breath while Sungjin’s face became hard to read eyes flashing with unknown emotions. So much for the help of your best friends.

You heard a clearing of a throat gaining your attention and making you jump at seeing Jae had already stood up brushing himself off. He playfully smiled at you shaking the messy blonde hair out of his shining eyes and holding a unsteady hand out to you.

You slowly stood up on trembling knees not being able to concentrate on the shouting from the people in the circle. Your vision felt hazy not really being able to believe what was happening. You put a hesitant hand on his, feeling his hand wrap around yours warmth instantly seeping in from his touch traveling up your arm through your whole body. 

You couldn’t lie to yourself. You were terrified of what would happen in that closet. What if he just told you he didn’t want anything of that sort to do with you and you had to sit in awkward silence for several more minutes holding in your tears and rejected by the very person you had fallen in love with at a dumb party game. 

He took in the fear and worry swimming in your eyes gripping your hand tighter. His head tilted, smiling softly at you and opening his mouth to say something, but his words were robbed from his throat when his eyes took in something behind you. You felt your hand get taken in an uncomfortably tight grip, the hand tugging you backwards making your hand slip from Jae’s loose warm one. 

You swiveled around getting met with the sight of your best friend. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw was set.

“You can’t play this stupid game with her. You won’t be taking her into that closet, not while i’m here” his tone was bitter and harsh. You tried shaking your hand out of his grip, but his clutch on you grew tighter making you cry out and start slapping your hands on Sungjin’s chest. 

Jae instantly reached out for your thrashing figure only for Sungjin to pull you out of his reach. Jae scoffed anger staining his once bright brown eyes a darker shade. “Sungjin, what do you think you’re doing man. Let her go before and we can solve whatever is going on without throwing her around like this. Who are you to-”

Sungjin cut him off with a growl. 

“Her boyfriend” 

You felt an icy feeling expand from your core to your fingertips having stopped moving in Sungjin’s hold. “What the hell Sungjin what are you talking about you asshole-” you turned around and seeing the look on Jae’s face you trashed around harder having to slap at Sungjin’s hands to break free of his clasp. 

His eyes went from Sungjin’s guilty face to your own angry confused one. The crease between his eyebrows deepened, mouth letting out a disbelieving exhale and shoulders slumping in disappointment. He started backing away shaking his head and looking at you in a way he had never looked at you. 

In anger.

You tried reaching out towards him voice shaky when you called out to him. “Jae no, you have to listen to me I have no idea-” the rest of your words didn’t get to reach him, Wonpil and Younghyun both blocking you from getting any closer to his retreating figure. Both looked at you with cold expressions and you remembered other people had also just witnessed you going into an intimate space with a man when you already had a supposed boyfriend. 

You felt embarrassment and shame flood your chest twisting uglily around your lungs and squeezing. Now you were only aware of the whispers and glares circling around your lone figure. You swiftly turned around to face Sunjin, head bent not being able to meet your heated gaze. 

You briefly looked at Dowoon who was as equally shocked as you were. 

You hissed Sungjin’s name huffing when he still didn’t look up tightly wrapping your arm around his wrist and dragging him up the stairs to his room blinking away the tears from the sheer humiliation coursing through your system. 

Sungjin tried sputtering out your name, but you paid no attention not stopping in your stride until you reached his room on the second floor and pushed his body out into the balcony connected to his room. 

You instantly exploded, voices coming out in rapid angry waves. 

“What the fuck was that Sungjin what did you just- Do you know what you just did” your voice was desperate frustrated tears making your eyes watery. 

“I’m so sorry-”

“No! No Sungjin, you don’t get to apologize until i know what you’re apologizing for” you set your teary eyes on Sungjin who finally looked up, for once, face open and  flooded with guilt and regret. 

“I panicked, and I know there is no excuse for what i just did, i just- I don’t know these past few days…”

You let out a thwarted groan. “That’s exactly the problem idiot, I have no idea what’s been going on with you these past few days. You never told me anything”

He closed his eyes as if physically pained turning around to lean on the railing of the balcony and burying his head in his hands. You also felt all energy seep out of your body, slumping dejectedly next to him. You looked at him resting your arms on your arms which were resting on the railing. 

“Please tell me, what made my best friend and brother suddenly claim he’s my boyfriend right in front of my crush of years” 

You saw his facial expressions twist in a wince, finally taking in the consequences of his panicked words. 

He looked at you, mouth pulling into a guilty smile. 

“Your brother fucked up pretty bad didn’t he peaches?” You nodded at him. 

“Why Sungjin, why did you do that?”

He looked up at the sky taking in the ugly clouds blocking the stars. You simply looked at your hands, sadness making your limbs feel heavy. 

“I felt like I was losing you, that’s why” You pouted in confusion. “Why would you ever think that? You know I depend on you a lot Sungjin, this doesn’t-” you stopped at his defeated sigh. 

“It has always been you, Dowoon, and I, but out of nowhere you started hanging out with Jae. I don’t know why, but i felt threatened by that. I mean, you even lied to me about where you really were when you hung out with him at that noodle place” 

Your jaw dropped. “How did you-”

“I saw you guys on my way to buy Dowoon a new game controller” he chuckled and shrugged. “I didn’t say anything. It’s not my place to, but then I found out he liked you too, and to me, the chances of you completely forgetting about me for him skyrocketed” Your knees buckled and you had to grip the railing to remain standing as you gasped and sputtered. “He what-”

Sungjin paid you no attention simply nodding like the fact the person you had feelings for returning said feelings was no big deal. You whined and stomped  your feet because what did it matter now. Any chance with him was blown. Sungjin continued. 

“You wouldn’t need me anymore if you had him. You wouldn’t need your big brother anymore if you had him. You would forget all about me. I mean, why wouldn’t you? You’ve liked him for so long, and i’m just...me” 

You inhaled a large breath, hand resting on your fast beating heart at all the newfound information. “Can I talk now?” He waved his hand in a way that said “go on”.

“First of all Sungjin, you’re the one who’s always told me to come out of my shell and to talk to more people. Ever since high school, you’ve been telling me to spread out and get more friends. Why are you being like this when I actually did what you said and started talking to others. Will you behave this way every time I grow close to someone else? It was wrong of you to tell me something and act this way when I listened to your advice. It was especially wrong of you to just stand there and declare you’re my boyfriend, you had no right to do that” He hung his head seeing the truth in my words. “Well?”

He set his mouth in a straight line nodding. “I- You’re right, you’re completely right. How could I be such a hypocrite” He scoffed at himself chuckling lowly at his own stupidity. “I guess I just got scared.”

You narrowed your eyes at him still not being able to believe he would actually think you would up and leave him. “There comes my second point. Sungjin, how could you ever believe I would just forget you. Do you doubt me that much?  Doubt our friendship that much? Our friendship of literal years” 

He stayed silent. “Do you hear how stupid it is now?” He nodded his head once hands fiddling nervously. 

“You are someone I value very much, but that doesn't mean you’ll be the only person to hold so much importance to me. It doesn’t put you in any position to be able to act like you own all my attention and friendship.” He once again nodded silently guilt swimming in his irises. 

“I was in the wrong and for that I’m sorry peaches. I realize now that you will continue to grow and gain new people who you will bond with. You will get hurt, but that’s not something I can control nor that I can stop and unfortunately, neither can you. I can only be there to bring a smile back on your face, and i’m perfectly fine with that” he acknowledged, the corners of his lips slightly pulling up in a melancholy smile.

You felt all tension leave your body finally feeling like you had your brother back. The same one you had always confided on. You no longer felt like the air around you was pressing in on you, slowly stealing the remaining oxygen from your lungs. 

He turned towards you and looked up before looking at you and opening his arms. “I’m sorry.” You didn’t really hesitate stepping into his embrace. “I’m still mad at you” you grumbled into his chest. “I know peaches, I understand. It’s okay” He laughed softly against your hair. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise. I’ll be better” You believed, of course you did. He was your brother, your closest friend. An irreplaceable part of your life who had made a little slip up, well maybe a big slip up, but you still forgave him. 

“We should have done this a long time ago” you muttered against his jacket. 

“What?” he questioned. “Talked. So much could have been avoided if we had just talked” Sungjin hummed in reply both of you knowing you each had some fault in that.  

You remembered Jae’s disappointed stare, his lips pressed together in a tight line as he got farther and farther away from you. You played with one of the threads from the jean jacket you were wearing feeling helpless in the answer of what to do to gain Jae’s forgiveness. At this point, you didn’t think there was a chance of being anything more than friends with him. You didn’t feel like you deserved him just wanting to explain to him that what happened wasn’t his fault. 

You just wanted him to smile again. You wanted him to be happy. You would feel lucky just being his friend again. You expected nothing more if you were honest with yourself. 

You lightly hit Sungjin’s shoulder exaggeratedly groaning. “How am I gonna explain this to Jae” your voice was muffled by his jacket but he simply laughed again, “I don’t think you have to”

“What are you talking about you-” Shock hit you like a truck when you remembered him looking up while he was apologizing. Something told you he wasn’t just apologizing to you. You looked up at the balcony above the one you were standing on seeing a head of fluffy blonde hair blown all over the place from the wind and a grin aimed at you. 

“Jae! Did you- Did you hear everything?” You couldn’t help but to smile at the loud laugh that rang throughout the night air. “I don’t know, why don’t you come up and find out?” You breathlessly looked at Sungjin who smiled softly at you pushing you back into his room. 

You didn’t look back as you exited his room walking back up the stairs with a trembling but hopeful heart. You came across what you knew was Jae’s room after having to drag him to it from when he got a really bad stomach ache. You knocked on the door mentally preparing yourself for whatever you were about to hear.

A soft stifled “come in” was heard from inside the room. You opened the door, eyes immediately landing on the figure that was on the balcony leaning on the railing and looking up at the sky. You walked towards the balcony, your breath rattling in your throat. You opened the door that led out to the balcony shakily calling his name. 

He stayed silent as you came up next to him, also tilting your head up and getting taken aback by the twinkling stars appearing at the parting of the clouds. The quiet preserved, and your mind was only really able to focus on his arm brushing against yours and your heart pounding in your ears. You fiddled with your hands picking at your nails jumping at the sound of Jae suddenly laughing. 

“A few minutes ago I thought I was the stupidest man on earth” You didn’t really know what to say in reply to that just turning your head to look at him as a sign you were listening. 

“I mean imagine the feeling of finding out you had been writing cheesy love songs about a person only to find out they were with someone else the whole time” you opened your mouth to retaliate, but he turned his head to look at you with a soft knowing smile. “I know, I know now, you’re just friends” He turned to look back at the night sky, the smile still not leaving his face. 

You were still shocked at the fact that some of the songs you had seen him diligently working on next to you in class could have been about you. Words of love and admiration from him written right next to you, and you were none the wiser. 

You felt like all the words you could say in that moment, just weren’t enough. Instead, you reached out to fix his glasses which had gone askew only to gasp silently when he grabbed your wrist looking at you once more. “You know, there were times where I felt lesser than him. He had known you since you were around the height of my knee, and had grown up with you. Who was I to him” He admitted wearily smiling at you. 

You leaned in slightly letting your hand move to firmly grip his maintaining eye contact as you got ready to speak. “You? You are Jae Park. The stupid, goofy, lovely, hard-working song writer who has never failed to make me happy and take care of me. Who always bought me food thinking of me, and who never hesitated to be self-less at the expense of myself.” You faltered, licking your lips anxiously for what you were about to say feeling your whole body grow hot. 

“You are Jae Park, the person I'm hopelessly in love with,” you confessed breathily watching him lean closer to you, lips pressing to your forehead while he laughed happily against your skin, hands traveling up your arms to gently cradle your face.

 “What were we doing all this time? I guess the starbursts really did a number of us if we’re both so in love with each other and didn’t notice” he murmured lips traveling down the space between your eyebrows to the slope of your nose forehead now resting against yours. His glasses were pressing uncomfortably against the bridge of your nose, but you didn’t really mind too caught up in the feeling of his body pressed against your as your hands moved to clutch at his shirt. 

We’re together now” you whispered lips slightly brushing against his. He smiled adoringly at you before leaning in to close the gap lips softly slanting his lips against yours as if testing the waters before growing more eager and tilting his head to grow impossibly closer to you still softly parting your mouth with his. The kiss remained soft and innocent, unspoken words after months of pining, and delicate confessions of love expressed. The warmth from one simple kiss traveled all the way to your heels spreading in a tender but passionate manner. 

You separated, catching your breath, his hands still cradling your face before he leaned in stealing a peck and chuckling when he pulled back. 

The wind grew stronger whipping at your hair and clothes making a small shiver travel down the spine and forcing you to snuggle his jacket tighter around you clearing your throat and smiling like an idiot. One of his hands left your face to tickle you, smile getting bigger at your loud laugh.

“Nice Jacket”

“Thanks, I wanted to give it back to it’s handsome owner” He bought you closer wrapping his arms around your form, hair tickling your temple and his nose pressing into the crook of your neck.

“The handsome owner thinks you look 100 times better in it than he ever did, Kim Kardashian could never” 

You laughed into his shoulder thinking you would be fine without the jacket believing the warmth provided from his simple touch was enough to keep you warm in the coldest of nights.

[redundantz]

Found an old write up of my Star War OCs Backstory and info 🤔

I’m not really a writer and usually don’t enjoy it at all so this is pretty big for me ahha

Yanna Sen'ka

Born on a distant planet, not uncivilized but not refined. A place full of plant life living in a small village on the edge of a forest near a large river.

She is an only child raised by her mother and father.

Her strong force sensitivity was noticed early on by Supreme Leader Snoke. Moulding and manipulating her thoughts and actions. Small whispers in her ear, little seeds of doubt, fear and anger. Building on her childlike fears and worries.

She clashed often with her strong willed mother. Who became distrusting of her daughters troubling and sinister behaviour. Only growing worse when she would go to her father for everything and get dotted on by him. Jealousy bloomed. Her mother was jealous of the great attention she got from him. And how she never came to her for help or comfort. All the while Snoke fanning the flames of your bitterness and resentment towards her. Becoming a dark ball of hate whenever near her. Often causing Yanna to lash out or run off sometimes for days.

Growing up in the forest she knew her way around well. What plants to eat and how to trap animals for food. She could spend days by herself. And she did. Not entirely out of her own desire. The other kids were also wary of her.

Her unstable behaviour and rumours surrounding her that strange and awful things happen.

On one of her outings by the waterfall, she was practicing her use of the force. Stacking rocks, building a little dam to catch the fish in the pond.

One of the village boys came through the brush spotting her using her powers. Startled, and still very angry the rock she had been floating flung into him with a startling velocity and power. So much so that his gasp of surprise was cut short and his limp body fell to the ground. In shock, she could only gape as blood started running down the stones into the pool. Dying it red.

Snapping out of it she started to panic and breathing hard, tears welled up in her eyes.

In shock, she just stared as the blood washed away. And a small consciousness came into the back of her mind saying. "You did nothing wrong my child. He saw you, you know what they would do if he told everyone. Imagine how disappointed your father would be if he found out? You don't want that....

Now, imagine how glad the other children will be now that he's gone. He was a useless boy, did nothing of value and lorded his false power over others.

And you my child have true power. Look what you did without even trying. Imagine what you could do with my full tutelage.

All of them would listen, never question you.

Your scum mother would never dare raise her voice at you...

And your papa would be so proud to look upon such a strong and accomplished daughter.

Now.... get rid off the body!”

Still horrified by what she's done yet with new found resolve she moves over to the corpse. Grabbing him by the back of his shirt she hauls him into the pool to be carried down river.

Washing away any of the blood on the stones and the evidence of her presence there. She glances at the body as it bobs down the river out of her sight before darting into the woods.

Frantic, she just couldn't get away from there fast enough still terrified by what she's done. She ran and wandered until her legs ached. The sun was setting causing the shadows in the forest to deepen before she climbed s tree to find a safe perch for the night.

Finally settling down and alone with her thoughts. The edge of panic had creeped off and she was surprisingly calm and serene. a voice in the night whispered "you've done well child...."

Looking up to the small group of stars she could see through the thick canopy. The fear and panic from earlier settled into the back of her mind she could only think of how glad she was rid of the boy.

None in the village could figure out what happened to the boy but everyone was on edge. And Yanna was put under more scrutiny. She couldn’t understand why everyone was so upset over the useless kid. Getting more and more withdrawn and angry.

Her mother was getting even worse to her as she got older and she got confronted by her if it was she who was the cause of the boys disappearance. Yelling and screaming, calling her a cursed child and that she stole everything from her. She was holding a knife in defence afraid of her own child or ready to attack..? Yanna looked for her father but he just looked at her with fear and uncertainty in his eyes. She felt despair. But really he was looking at his wife, maybe with clear eyes for the first time. As she went in to the attack, Yanna was able to avoid and fight back for the most part but her father tried to intervene and save her getting stabbed in the process. He wasn’t critically injured but she saw red and high pitched screaming filled her ears. Next thing she woke up to was her fathers body shielding her and the house, the village, and forest was on fire. Her mother was dead and her father was dead. Her mind was blank.

“It’s time”

When Snoke came to get her she was alone in the forest she couldn't stand to be around what she had done. Refusing to think about it as her rage died down. She couldn't. She just repeated what leader Snoke said to her before.

The code of the dark side.

Her only salvation.

She met Kylo Ren when she was 14. Only a few years older than her he was gangly yet exuded a great sense of power that radiated from him crackling and angry. He was reckless and had a childlike temperament.

She got on his nerves a lot and not always in purpose. Unlike him she has learned to focus her anger and fear. Her calculated control bothered him as she would look down on him every time he would throw a fit.

Often it would cause them to fight.

She wouldn't admit that she just liked to get on his nerves and show him how little control he had by flaunting hers. Also that she wanted to help teach him to master himself. Even though it should have been the other way around.

She knew it was not in her best interest but she grew quite attached to him. She was a decent comrade to the others. Especially Kuruk ren. He made her laugh with jokes and a sick sense of humour. Always having the most ridiculous of stories to tell. He even wanted to get in her pants a few times. She was tempted to be sure. Mostly to just get it over with and see what it's like. She really didn't enjoy his company "that" much. In either case she has never felt more included. she's finally a part of a group and working towards something bigger than herself. She was determined to be useful and prove herself. She wanted to make leader Snoke proud. He was the only one there for her her whole life guiding her, who truly understood her.

Master Snoke would train them all when he could but for the most part it was up to them to keep up their practices. Their fitness, saber wielding, meditation and use of the force. Most of the Knights would work independently as comradery was not something adherent to their teachings. Mostly sparing together to blow off extra energy and test their might.

Kylo was the over all strongest beating most of the Knights easily. A few where much more adept at swordplay and gymnastics each having their own strong suit . Some even preferring blasters and other physical weapons.

Yanna was not the best at swordplay, but was quite nimble and able to move around with a purpose from many years in the forests.

She would focus and use of the force to read movements and work around them. Reading their minds or just straight up using her powers to physically beat them or trip them. Usually that wasn't allowed in sparing but she didnt always listen.

Snoke chose Kylo to be the Master of the Knights of Ren and it must have been for a good reason. She just couldn't help but let a small part of herself felt slighted and jealous.

She was there when they helped kill all the Jedi training under Luke Skywalker. Snoke told her about Luke and how Kylo trained under him until he was shown the way to the dark side. How he was the cause of Vaders death. The Shinning example of pure darkness.

As a part of the Knights they all admired him greatly. None more so as Kylo. Not quite sure how deep his attachment goes.

They wore clothes and helmets in honour of him. Hoping to take up where he left off. Show the universe what true power is.

She has a special way she typically used her force powers. By exploding people's hearts. Not very messy but effective. Didn't require her to use her sword which was more for defence and secondary offence than anything.

Where would your character fall on a politeness/rudeness scale?

In the middle, she respects her elders and superiors but holds nothing back for her peers and children. Most rudeness is nonverbal just ignoring or blatant disregard.

How many friends does your character have?

Virtually none. The Knights of Ren are her closest allies. Kylo in particular and Kuruk. Leader Snoke himself has been her closest friend and Mentor.

Also Captain Phasma share a fun friendship the rare chance the meet.

How many friends does your character want?

She would say none. That ties to others always just end up in pain and are a weakness. In reality a few close good friends is what she wants and needs. People to share experience with and shared ambition.

How does your character feel about sex?

Not something she's particularly interested in. Neither is romance. Her life has been to driven and hectic to think of such things. Even being older it’s not really on her mind. If the fancy ever struck her she wouldn't say no. A few men/women and even the other Knights have tried. All their efforts just irritate her.

She does masterbate now and again, for release only when she's sure no one would know.

What was the best thing in your character’s life?

Her Father was her best friend and mentor. He would teach her all about living in the forest and wouldn’t treat her like a child. letting her figure stuff out on her own and make mistakes but always there to help out. But was also there to comfort her but was also a bit of a coward when it came to standing up to his wife.

[iphoenixrising]

Check, Please WIP: Part 1-4

AHL!Bitty

I’m going to hell, but… Parse, Bitty, and Jack or PB&J as I’ve seen it, have some wonderful stories in the fandom, and tbh I’ve come to look at Kent Parsons very differently thanks to a few. You can probably check them out on my Ao3 bookmarks and such. 

Notes: 

I know shit all about hockey but damn if I don’t love Check, Please! Not everything is accurate and some details are mine. Like, I’m just going to pretend the Bruins aren’t in Providence, and the Pawtucket Rebels are the AHL team. 

But then, what if Jack and Bits didn’t get that kiss at the end of Jack’s graduation? What if they just stayed the best of friends, pining away at one another until Kent Parson comes back into Jack’s life. Now it’s not just Jack pining, it’s Kent too :D

And, well, after winning the Championship his senior year, bringing that back to Samwell, Eric Bittle might just think he hasn’t had enough Hockey after all.

Really, it’s time to put up or shut up.

** Pro

Of all the things on Kent Parson’s Wish List (winning the Stanley Cup, being on a team he loves, playing hockey for the rest of his life, having a pet and Kit meets all those criteria for so much cute and cuddly), getting his friendship back on track with Jack Zimmermann hadn’t moved down from number 1, ever. 

Things changed after that disaster at his college frat house, then later in Zimm’s first season with the Falconers, Kent wasn’t sure it could even be a wish. 

When it came to hockey, things were always too easy. They never had to talk about it, about what they were doing on the ice. All of that just came like breathing. Parse and Zimms, Zimms and Parse. The whole Zimmermann-Parson No-Look One-Timer was never something they discussed, it was something that just happened. 

On the ice, they were unbeatable, just like in Juniors.

Off the ice...was a different story. 

(Sometimes he dreams about it, finding Jack passed out on the bathroom floor of the hotel, foaming at the mouth, panic and adrenaline hitting Kent hard when he’s pretty sure his best friend, the man he almost-kind of-sometimes loves, is going to die on this floor.)

Jack’s problem with pills started early, around the time he and Kent got serious enough to play for scouts that started coming around with the promise of watching the son of Bad Bob. 

(He was always partially to blame for Jack’s downfall. Kent had been the closest to Jack back then, had seen the signs, had tried to pull him back whenever he could, had been the one to ease Zimms down before every game, to be the one sitting in a corner with the bigger Canadian, running his hands over Jack’s shoulders and holding his hands, checking his breathing, helping him work through the anxiety.)

But, but!

That’s all old history, something Jack probably never wants to revisit ever again (because he cut you out of his life so well–), even when he makes it to the Falconers. 

(After that disaster at his school, well, no wonder.)

And Kent just has to deal with that, has to accept it finally, and just move on. 

(He could have been an Ace, just that fast, playing with Kent’s team of awesome guys. And fuck did it hurt when Jack turned him down flat...)

Until this little shit came along.

** 1

Eric Bittle realizes he’s severely messed up when he doesn’t kiss Jack Zimmermann at graduation. 

For two years, they’ve played hard hockey for Samwell, have gotten close, becoming best friends. They’ve held checking clinics, hugged tightly in cellys, watched boring as hell history documentaries on that god-awful green couch, and pulled each other back from the brink of insanity during midterms and finals. They’ve spent time in the kitchen with Bitty cooking and Jack working at the table. They’ve spent time outside in the quad, bullshittin’ like the oldest friends, chirpin’ back n’ forth like they’re two peas in a pod. 

Jack somehow started being his best friend without even trying. 

The last game showed him how close they’d become when he’s going through the empty rink, making it to the loading dock, just a flash of jersey leading him to Jack hunched over, tears in his eyes. 

The utter agony right there had gone through Bitty like lightning, driving him forward to hop up on the pallets Jack was sitting on, and wrap both arms around those wide shoulders, hold on to ‘im as tight as he can. 

“It ain’t your fault, Jack. You did so good with us. I’m so proud of you, honey, you have no idea. You worked so hard, so hard, Jack.”

“Bits,” is soft and sad, Jack choking a little, but those big arms come around him, crush him against Jack’s chest and the pads he’s still wearing. 

“I know, I know. Sometimes it just isn’t in the cards, no matter how hard we fight. You get that, don’t you? Sometimes it just is what it is.”

“I can’t–” accept that is what Jack wants to say. 

“I know it’s hard, but sometimes all the trainin’ and plannin’ and best of intentions just aren’t enough to tip the scales in your favor.”

And Jack seems to get something there, tightens his arms a little more, and holds on. 

It’s a little while later when Jack’s stopped shaking like a leaf, “I wanted to bring home a Championship. Wanted to make my mark on Samwell.”

“Of course you did–”

“Thought after all this time, everything I owe Samwell and the team, bringing me here, giving me this second chance–”

“Oh Jack,” at this juncture, Bittle’s head is under Jack’s chin. 

“I finally felt like I’d stopped fucking up,” is rough and dark in the quiet of the rink. “I thought coming to Samwell was a...a punishment. I dealt with it because I thought my life was going to start after, when I finished up my degree and got back into the Draft. But that’s...that’s not how it happened. My life started the minute I met you and the team and I remembered why the hell I love hockey so damn much in the first place.”

And if maybe a few slow, shameful tears escaped Bitty, well, no one would ever know.

But they got even closer as Jack’s graduation loomed, and Eric Bittle stayed in his own personal hell of loving Jack so much it ached, but helpless to stay away to protect himself. 

Instead, when Jack pauses at his door, Bits knows what he needs and finds space to lounge on Jack’s bed, scrolling through Twitter while Jack talks about the negotiations with NHL teams or works on his last assignments. 

Watching Jack pack his things, preparing for the Falconer’s training camp, getting ready for the next stage of his life, all of it makes Bits so dang proud and so sad at the same time.

But, well, nothin’ lasts forever, now does it.

When Jack ran all the way back to the Haus just to see him, just to pull him in hard for a desperate last hold, it was all Bits could do to stop from sobbing his heart out.

“–and you’re coming to Providence this summer to stay with me for a while, and-and I’ll be down when I can. You’re going to Skype me all the time. Bits, promise me. All the time.”

“Okay, Jack. Okay.”

Something soft in French that he has no idea what it could possibly mean, but he absolutely imagines Jack pressing a kiss in his hair. 

“I’m sorry, Bits, but I have to go. I...I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay,” is more watery than he’d like, but he can look up in Jack’s blue, blue eyes and at least feel warm that he’s had this man for as long as he has. When Jack’s hands slide out of his, he somehow doesn’t feel like he’s losing anything at all. 

** 2

And just like that, Jack takes a step in his life he never could have predicted. Like an hour away instead of across the hall is enough to keep holding on, enough that Jack comes to Madison over the summer, enough that he asks Bitty to show him how to use FaceTime and SnapChat. 

It’s enough for Jack to pick him up off his feet every time they meet up and bury his face in Bitty’s hair. It’s enough for Jack to Skype almost nightly while he’s tuckered out in his bed, talking about the joys and pitfalls of being a professional athlete. 

It’s enough that he gets to meet the Falconers long before preseason starts, and the amount of pies he brings is literally obscene.

(It all works out just fine in the end because he goes home with the empty pans. Not a single slice left.)

It’s enough when Jack talks more about life than hockey sometimes, and Bitty is utterly helpless to stop any of it. And it’s funny, he thinks, how he was sure Jack would just flitter out of his life after a while. That they would be reduced to a Skype call once a week maybe when they find the time, then once a month, then not at all, moving into texting once and a while until Jack would be nothing more than one of his best memories of Samwell. 

It’s funny how he thought Jack moving into the NHL, moving to Providence, moving out of the Haus, moving on with his life, would mean also moving on from Eric Bittle.

And my, how wrong he was about all that.

Watching Jack play with the Falconers from the stands with the Stanley Cup on the line is not really where he’d thought he’d be once Jack had graduated. 

But, if anything else, they’ve gotten even closer than before. 

And when the buzzer finally sounds and the Falconers win it, he’s among the crowd running out on the ice for the biggest celly of the year. 

Jack spots him immediately, grabs him up with a victorious roar, and skates around people holding Bitty like a favorite toy until Tater scoops him up from Jack yelling about “Nook pies!”

Marty skates by him, ruffling his hair with something twinkling in his eye. Thirdy hauls him up, too, though Bitty has no idea why all these hockey players are just throwing him around when they’ve just won the Stanley Cup, but he still thinks it’s awful nice of them to include him in their celebration.

He doesn’t go back to Georgia for the summer after all or the next one before he starts his senior year, but goes between staying in Jack’s guest room and the Haus instead. His Mama’s not happy about it at all, but he’s a grown man, so that’s all she can say about that.

So Bitty passes the summer of his Senior year training with Jack or at Faber when the ice is up for grabs, works on some chapters for his someday cookbook, and continues his vlog so everyone can see how superior filo is to choux in the right circumstances.

With the season over after winning the Cup, Jack is over at the Haus more than ever if Bitty’s not in Providence already staying in his guest room. 

It should be strange to answer the door at the Haus on Saturday morning during the summer and see Jack there in his trainers, sweats, and t-shirt, wanting to hang out for the day after he’d put in a few hours at the Falc’s stadium already. 

(“C’mon, Bits. Can’t slack during the summer. You’re the captain. Set an example.”

“Jack, it’s summer. Leave me alone until at least nine am for goodness sake!”

“Not going to happen, bud.”)

It should be strange riding the train or in the passenger seat of Jack’s SUV on their way to Providence while he fiddles with the music and Jack doesn’t complain about the selection. 

It should be strange to wake up on Jack’s couch, laying on a broad shoulder with a heavy arm flopped around Bitty’s waist and logs being sawed in his ear.

It should be strange to know Jack’s kitchen better than the back of his hand, and to be giddy every time there’s a new utensil bought with him in mind.

(“Jack, why in the world would you need a dough scraper of all things?” “Not for me, Bits.”

“O-Oh!”

“Yeah. Thank Tater. He went with me this time. He held up that and said, ‘oh does B have one of these? It looks important.’ I didn’t know so I bought it in case.”)

It should be strange to see Jack’s Skype requests almost every night before bed, or have his former captain sprawled out in Bitty’s full sized bed once Lardo, Ransom, and Holster are already moved out and the new Waffles are well into the first semester of his senior year.

(“Good Lord, Jack, scoot over!”

“Mm.” Jack scootches maybe a foot more so Bitty can climb in beside him, already yawning. “Comfy, bud?”

“Gettin’ there,” and he absolutely ignores how much easier he falls asleep when Jack throws a heavy arm over him.)

It should be strange for Jack to whip him on up in a big hug when he admits the boys voted him as the Captain, and Jack breathes out, “damn right,” too close to his ear.

(“I don’t know if I can do this, Jack.”

“Too bad, Bits. Looks like you’re already doing it.”)

It should be strange for Jack to chirp him about his thesis, about his struggle with Whiskey, about why this darn strudel just won’t turn out right.

(“Jaques Laurant Zimmermann, do not make me ground you from pie.”

“Haha. I know you wouldn’t do that, bud.”

“Oh? Don’t be so sure, Mister.”)

It should be strange to get an earful when his new video comes out and Jack had no idea the jam war was that serious while Bitty has been supplying the Falconers for nearly a year. 

(“Are you kidding? Aunt Judy is really that upset?”

“You have no idea, honey. It’s almost World War III down there.”

“Good thing you’re stuck at Samwell.”

“Good thing is right! I don’t want any part of that mess.”)

But somehow it never is. Strange, that is, to have Jack so much. Even though nothing could happen between them (“Never fall for a straight boy.”), Bitty still can’t let go of Jack, can’t deny him, can’t tell him no, can’t be the one that fails to respond when Jack reaches out for him. 

Even when Kent Parson shows up at a Falcs game and cheers himself hoarse, screams for Jack right there on live TV.

And while trying to get through his dang senior year, trying to get his team to the Eastern Conference, he watches how Jack and Kent start to move back in one another’s orbit.

...which is probably why he doesn’t tell Jack anything about the scouts from the AHL coming to see him after the game with Princeton.

** 3

The Pawtucket Rebels manager, Michael McLean, is the one that meets Bitty with a Standard Player Contract the morning he gets back from Jack’s place when they’re going to be starting in the Frozen Four if they win the next two games.

The weekend away was nice, but he hadn’t been expecting Jack’s intention to introduce him to Kent Parson of the Las Vegas Aces. 

“We’ve already met,” Bitty had filled in, still shaking Kent’s hand with a distant smile on his face, “at the Haus party when he swung on by.”

“Not my best moment,” the Captain admits sheepishly, eyes not meeting Bitty’s, and dang it if the boy ain’t at least a little bit cute. 

“I suppose we all have our days,” Bits just drawls out and gives him a wink. He holds out the plate of fresh cookies as some kind of peace offering. 

The weekend was still nice, being caught up in Kent’s manic energy and Jack’s easy acceptance. But, he starts seeing the signs pretty easily, when Jack’s hand goes to Kent’s shoulder after a good joke, the exchanged glances that linger, the slowly dwindling personal space that used to be there for them. How they start finishing each other’s sentences, and oh, doesn’t it just make his heart give a little beat when he sees them both happy. 

(But doesn’t that just break it at the same dang time. Not only does Jack like men, but he’s already got his sights set on his old boyfriend. It’s almost enough to make a grown man cry. Bitty consoles himself after breaking down in his room on Sunday when Jack and Kent dropped him off at the Haus. Only Senor Bun knew how much he’d ugly cried himself out that night.)

When Mr. McLean gives him the contract to peruse and a business card with his information circled in blue pen, Bitty almost picks up his phone to call Jack, talk about what he would need other than a lawyer to go over this thing. 

He thinks about Kent and calls Coach and Mama the next morning instead, promises to send scanned copies of the contract. Mama asks if this is something he really wants to think about doing after graduation. 

“It’s money, Mama, a lot of money, and who knows? Hockey might not be outta my heart just yet. I’ll still have time for everything else.”

He only feels a little bit bad when Jack Skypes him on a roadie, set-up in a hotel, asks how his darn thesis is going, and promises to be at the next home game. 

Kent joins the call while Bits is slid down all snug and sleepy-eyed, kids around with him by making kissy faces. 

“College is brutal, Bits. You aren’t sleeping enough.”

“Well, now that’s life, ain’t it?”

Bitty knows something’s going on between them because Kent is shaking a finger at the screen and lecturing him about procrastination while Kit snoozes on. He’d only known if Jack told him about it.

“Bits, your thesis is basically about baking. Baking is the thing you love that isn’t hockey.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier,” Bitty slurs tiredly, wondering how he’s talking to the man that’s swiping his unrequited crush right out from under him even though he doesn’t even feel too bad about it. Not when he sees how good Kent is for Jack now, even if that hadn’t always been the case.

(Long as it makes Jack happy, I can endure it. It’s tough, but I’m tougher.)

But really. Kent Parson is so different from his image as the Captain of the Aces, Bitty can’t help but genuinely like the man. 

“I’m so jealous. I love peppermint cookies and I’ve never gotten any sent to me!”

Sleepy time Bitty makes a note of that even when the world fuzzes out a little bit more.  

“God, he’s so cute, Zimms.”

“Euh. He really is, Kenny. We should hang-up and let him sleep.”

Or he might of just dreamed that part.

The Aces have a hard game coming up, and he’s got his outline done, so the Haus is finally going to let him alone long enough to bake one single, solitary pie. In the middle of it, he certainly doesn’t expect Jack to show up with a six pack of Molson Blue, apparently assuming they’re going to watch it together and cheer on Kent.

“But I expect you to cheer for the Falcs when it comes down to us and the Aces, Bits.”

“Oh honey, I always root for the underdog anyhow.”

The chirp makes Jack flop back on his bed and laugh hard enough for tears to be in his eyes. Bitty just goes back to the Aces on his laptop and drinks Jack’s awful beer with a smirk.

He stirs a little from sleep to Jack talking softly beside him in bed since “It’s too late to drive back to Providence tonight. Move over, bud.”

He mutters something maybe, sighing instead when fingers comb through his hair. 

“That W was perfection, Parse. You were skating your best life out there, eh?...sleeping right now. Yeah, senior year is a pain in the ass...you bet I miss you. Three weeks, we’ll be close enough to Vegas...yeah, I’ll try to get him to come along, but the Wellies are getting closer to the Championship...he would kill to bring it home for the boys.”

But he probably imagined all that, too. 

Still, he’s got a short break before the next round of games, and just five days until his deadline to let Mr. McLean have his answer when Jack shows up at the Haus and is apparently confused why Bitty isn’t packed for Vegas.

“What do you mean we’re going to Las Vegas, Jack?!” Because this is the first he’s heard about it, and how does Jack already have a plane ticket for him?

“Come off it, bud. If I go there without you, Kenny will never forgive me.”

“How does he even know I don’t have a game?” He frets while putting sleep shorts in a suitcase, wonders if he should bring one of his suits since Jack is already wearing one. 

Jack’s brows scrunch together, “Don’t you talk to him on that–that bird one? All the time? He says he always reads your updates.”

He pauses with a pair of boxer briefs and gives Jack his very best unimpressed expression, “Jack, sweet pea, please tell me you didn’t just refer to Twitter as that bird one?” He carefully does not say anything about Kent Parson checking his Twitter updates.

The soft smile and shrug in reply answers that now doesn’t it.

“I swear, what would you do without me,” he sighs, a little throb of love getting caught in his chest, and he just busies himself right on past it, going for at least one pair of flip flops probably buried under mounds of winter gear. 

“Honestly? If I didn’t have you these last few years, maybe it would have been like what happened when I was in the Q,” Jack leans back on his elbows on Bitty’s bed, right beside the suitcase he’s quickly trying to pack. Being stuck between two button-ups, biting his bottom lip because he’s already bringing so much takes a backseat when Jack mentions the days he was in Juniors, and Bitty feels his eyebrows raise. 

“When we started checking clinics, you and me, that was the most...balanced I ever started feeling after all that. The, ah, overdose. That...that might have been where I ended up if it hadn’t been for you and Samwell.”

With a breath (because Lord, here was Jack finally talking about it, in such a soft tone, his eyes so very blue, and just! Well, he’s not made of stone and this is Jack), he scoots the suitcase back and plops right down on the bed, reaching for Jack’s hand. He carefully looks at the closed door and rubs those big fingers with his thumb.

“You honestly think you would have made those same mistakes without me, Jack?” He tries to be nice about it, “because I sure as heck don’t.”

His fingers tighten around Bitty’s, a squeeze, a soft thank-you.

“I mean, I didn’t know you back then, so I can’t say who you were, but there are some parts of that Jack left in the one I know now. And the Jack I know now is someone that knows how to lead his team, and takes care of them, who knows how to inspire them. The Jack I know got up extra early just to help this hopeless case learn to overcome his fear and be able to play hockey better than he ever could have before. You helped me not just be able to take the check, but I’m a captain, a center, and I earned it because of you. The Jack I know is selfless in so many ways and selfish in just the right ones, and dang it, he’s my best friend, so you better not say anything else like that about him again.”

The bed shifts under him when Jack sits up, a big hand coming up to palm the side of Bitty’s face so Jack can lean his forehead in, look straight at him from just inches away with those stupidly big blue eyes, and be so warm and just Jack. 

“You were never hopeless, Bits,” and with his voice that low, being this close, Bitty feels his cheeks getting warm, his eyes helplessly sliding down to Jack’s mouth.

The errant thought Vegas, we’re going to Vegas shakes him out of the moment, and he pats Jack’s forearm, gently pulling back from the very intense, heart-stopping moment where his brain almost killed him when it told him to just go on and kiss Jack.

But his brain also knows it would probably be the last thing he’d ever do with Jack because Jack has Kent for that now, doesn’t he?

Mentally shaking himself, Bitty stands quickly, goes back to his suitcase, “All right, now for heaven’s sake, Jack, help me here. I’ve never been to Las Vegas–”

And it’s not nearly as hot in Georgia as it is in Las Vegas when they get off the plane, but everything else about it is incredible. 

(He doesn’t think about how nice it was to ride next to Jack on the plane, talking strategy and the team, the upcoming games and new plays they might bring to the ice. It’s nice to hear about the Falcs eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with hollers for more. The pies never last long and cookies are always a favorite.)

He might have worried for about a minute, fiddling with the Uber app on his phone to update his location, but Jack just lays a hand on his back and guides him out of the terminal. 

“Don’t worry about it, Bits, we’ve got a ride.”

And standing by a stunning red Ferrari is Kent Parson himself, grinning wide under his sunglasses.

“Oh my,” even if it’s a little breathless, he gives himself an out here because wow, it’s a nice car. 

(And he is not at all looking at Kent’s bare arms or muscled calves. Absolutely not. He’s already got one heartache, thank-you very much.)

He still squeaks a little when Kent literally picks him up off his feet and swings him around.

“There’s my guys! Falconers and Rebels!” Kent yells for half the airport to hear. 

Jack blinks and Bitty groans softly.

Those blue eyes aren’t accusing him of anything, but it’s that same confused look when he tries to figure out if the next song is Destiny’s Child or Queen Bey herself.

“Rebels?”

He doesn’t wince, but it’s a close thing.

“I’ll...tell you about it later.” He waves off, deflecting perfectly, and snaps up his luggage again now that he’s on his feet.

“Oh,” Kent looks from him to Jack and back to him, and his mouth opens probably to say something else no one else needs to hear.

“Thank-you for coming to pick us up, by the way,” he starts rambling right on, “I’ve never been to Las Vegas before. And we’re even going to watch a game? How exciting! Should I make something for your team? A good luck something maybe? Is there a grocery store close to your house? Can we stop? Maybe I could do a few apple pies and a strawberry one...?”

“You can make me food all day, B,” Kent smiles so wide and white down at him and just swipes his bag right up out of Bitty’s hand like it weighs nothing at all. “My favorite pie is peach, just in case you were wondering.”

Bitty slaps him right on the arm, absolutely offended. “Kenneth Virgil Parson the Third, like I wouldn’t already know what your favorite pie is! Why of all the nerve!”

And that is how Bitty talked himself right out of the AHL conversation with Jack. At least, for the time being. 

**

In the end, he makes two apples, two strawberries, and three peach pies, one for Kenny to keep at home.

Jack mutters under his breath about the Falcs needing a peach pie, and Bitty can absolutely do that once they get back home. 

The boys are wonderful at keeping him company in Kent’s big kitchen while he works, staying out of his way unless he directs them. 

“It’s not going to be a super exciting game. The Schooners are old rivals since before I came to the Aces,” Kenny shrugs, fish oven mitts on, and his own apron is really just Kit’s face blown up on a white background.

But the man’s fish oven mitt is–

Wait for it

– named Fish.

Because Kent is a master at naming things, obviously.

Kit Puurson is laying on the kitchen table from where Bitty banished her from walking along the counters while he’s baking.

“Now, don’t sell it short, sugar pie,” Bitty replies absently, makes the lattice on the last pie perfect. The A in the center is going to be great once the pie finishes baking. “It’s going to be exciting to see you play live no matter what.”

“Aw,” and Kent is smiling all nice at him now that he probably knows Bitty’s not gunning for his boyfr- for Jack, “you’re just saying that because it’s true.”

“Of course I am, Kent. It is true.”

“Any time you get bored of watching the Falcs, all you have to do is call me, Bits. I’ll have you on a plane in a hot minute,” and Bitty has to look over at him for that because it might have been a chirp at Jack, but the tone was a lil’ too serious for his taste.

“Who knows, Mister Parson, I might take you up on that someday.”

(When hell freezes over.)

“I hope so, Bits,” Kent’s eyes go to the masterpieces on the counter waiting for their turn in the oven, “I really hope so.”

*

At the game later that night, before the Aces take the ice, Bitty gets a Snap from Kent Parson. 

All the pie pans are licked clean. Not a crumb in sight.

Bitty sighs in unmitigated relief.

Even though he feels strange not wearing a Falconers or Samwell jersey when he’s at a hockey game, he can’t blame Jack for leaving their home team merchandise back in Providence. 

Earlier, Kent had tugged an Ace's jersey over his head and landed a cap as the cherry on top, winking at him while Jack was busy grumbling to himself about something or other. 

It feels odd to have someone’s name across his back other than his own (or frankly Zimmermann because Jack already gave him two hoodies and several other Falcs shirts, which was real kind of him, and they’re such nice clothes!), but his Mama would fly up from Georgia and whoop his butt good if she knew he’d refused a gift from a celebrity. 

So, even with Jack scowling, he accepts the jersey and hat for the game tonight.

He and Jack find their seats, right behind the bench, and it looks like they can finally settle in.

Jack keeps a running monologue of stats and predictions, leaning in to Bitty while eating the carrot sticks they'd packed in so Jack wouldn't be tempted with junk food.

This boy and his rigid schedule of cheat days. Honestly.

And Bitty is content to talk hockey and the upcoming season, is content to talk about the Samwell team and the next game coming up. 

He gets to watch Kent and the Aces make an opening lap around the rink to wave at their fans, laughs at the finger guns right in their direction.  

He settles on in to watch what will probably be a good game no matter what Kent said earlier, and of course, Jack chooses then to bring it up.

"Are you going to tell me about the Rebels anytime soon?” Jack is watching the game when he finally says it, something in his tone of voice that sounds a little closer to mad.

Bitty looks over, guilty as sin, and Jack looks back, all kind of calm.

“I...I didn’t make a decision or anything–” he starts then turns away from those blue eyes. “I-I should go get us something to drink! Jack, what do you want to–”

He’s halfway out of his chair, but Jack’s hand on his wrist stops him, pulls him back down to his seat.

“Don’t be mad!” Bitty sighs, loud and long, “I didn’t even know what to do when Mr. McLean came to see me.”

Jack hums, “You could have called your best friend who happens to be a professional hockey player.”

“That will be enough chirps outta you, Mister Zimmermann. You were already having a time with the changes to your medication, and I didn’t want to add anything else to your list.”

Jack guffaws at him, “that was two months ago, Bits, and my anxiety is under control. You could have told me anytime since then.”

“Well, I–” and Bitty has a moment where his mouth almost runs right away with him, and he almost tells Jack they ain’t datin’ so not everything has to be out in the open.

“You?”

And even though Kent has the puck, Jack’s eyes are all for Bitty.

“Jack,” he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“You can tell me anything. You know that, right bud?” And that line between his eyebrows lets Bitty know Jack is actually concerned.

“Of course, Jack, I...I just. I don’t know, you’ve got your own career to worry about, and I don’t even know if I still want to play hockey after graduation, nonetheless with a team in the AHL.” He shrugs lamely, pretty sure Jack probably thinks he’s an idiot.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Bits. You don’t have to make a decision right away.”

“Well, I’ve got about five days until he wants to know if I accept their offer,” Bitty rubs the back of his neck, cheeks pink. 

“Oh. Well, you should let me read the contract anyway, eh? At the very least, it could help you make a decision if the offer isn’t for much.”

“If– I mean, if you want to? That would be real nice.”

“Euh. Tomorrow morning after my run, we’ll look at it.” Jack gives a sharp nod like he’s accomplished something, pats Bitty on the shoulder, and goes back to the game, just as pleased as pie.

**

The win was really something for the Aces, and he gets to meet Swoops, Poots, Scrappy, and Gopher when Kent tells them the baker of the pies is at the game.

“Oh my God, I ate like three pieces,” Swoops pats him on the shoulder and laughs.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”

“Oh totally. Gopher can’t help himself around sweets, so you might get a marriage proposal if you aren’t careful.”

“O-oh my! That’s mighty sweet, but I would hate to have to break his poor heart.” Bitty laughs a little and doesn’t notice how Jack’s eyes narrow. 

It’s entertaining as all get out when Jack groans at the amount of chirps he’s already gotten for being a Falc instead of an Ace.

“He’s got important...things in Rhode Island,” Kent had finally said to his team, which Bitty did not understand at all.

(But, it does make sense. Jack wants to stay close to Shitty and everyone from Samwell. He couldn’t be part of their nearly everyday lives if he had joined the Aces.)

They drop by Kent’s house to change clothes, and head out to celebrate the victory with the team, and all that fluttering around his room at the Haus is suddenly worth it when he looks damn good in his button-up with a black tank top underneath and a pair of shorts that look like they’ve been painted on his ass.

When he comes downstairs, Kent wolf whistles and Jack gets red in the face.

“Are you sure–” Jack starts, a little stuttery that makes Bitty preen.

“Mister Zimmermann, it’s best you do not finish that sentence,” Bitty snipes with his nose in the air.

It’s absolutely satisfying when two very cute boys dance with him at the club, grinding on him and having a heck of a good time.

He doesn’t notice Jack’s sour face until the third or fourth song in, and by then, Kent is making his way through the crowd. 

The hand on his arm pulls him out from between two different boys, and Bitty is just about to give whoever it is what for, but Kent just shifts to grip his hips and pulls him in, back-to-chest. 

And Lord help him, Kent is an amazing dancer. How does he even get himself into these things?

** 

Watching his favorite person, favorite people, dance is giving Jack too many Ideas.

He already has plenty when it comes to Bits. Even more when it comes to Kenny since they have history to fall back on, but for Kenny and Bits? His brain might shut down because Jack is even more invested in that. 

(Kenny hasn’t said anything, but Jack knows him, knows what the look in those eyes means when he watches Bitty. Instead of Kenny trying to talk him into asking Bitty for a date, maybe Jack should be trying to do the same. Or-or talking about if all three of them…?)

As is, Jack has a lot more thinking to do after this trip.

“I swear I take care of him as much as he lets me,” Jeff is saying, “it’s not like it’s his first year anymore. He’s way past all that, Jack.”

“I know,” Jack downs his beer, tries not to be too irritated at Swoops because of the attitude. Since he and Kenny have been talking again, he knows more about that first year with the Aces and Kenny’s struggles after the Draft than he’d wanted to know at the time. He hadn’t wanted to focus on the difficulties his best friend was having with a new career as a professional athlete, was more concerned about getting himself through rehab. 

He’s been finding out about those struggles and bad times, feels better knowing about all the things he’d missed out on back then because that means Kenny is talking to him again.

(“You cut me out!” Still haunts Jack sometimes when he thinks about how he did that to his best friend, his other half. At the time, it had seemed like a trade he didn’t have any other choice but to make, give up his best friend for the chance to get better.)

Jeff was the Ace Kenny billeted with his first year, and the two are close. Maybe even closer than Jack and Kenny had been in the Q. 

He doesn’t deserve to be jealous of that, but somehow, he still is.

“I did him wrong when he was in the Draft,” Jack finally admits to Swoops, “and I’m glad he had you and the team there when he needed you. I just...I just want to make sure he’s okay. Kenny means a lot to me.”

Swoops raises a brow over the beer he’s drinking. “He was pretty torn up over you that first year, Zimmermann. If I could have, I would have found you and punched you right in the nose for that kid.”

Jack shrugs a shoulder, “would have deserved it.”

“Yeah, yeah you would have,” but it seems like the salt has gone out of Jeff’s spine, and he slumps down in his seat across from Jack. “I had to tell the team not to mention your name for a long time. Not gonna lie, when you got picked for the Falcs, I drove over to his place and stayed the night in case he had a breakdown.”

And oh does that hit Jack right in the heart. 

“But, he was...not okay but okay? He was happy for you, is the point.”

Jack’s heart twists painfully at that, “Euh. He’s a better friend than I deserve.”

“You know, he told me about going to your college, right?”

Jack looks Swoops in the face, thinks he might get a little more clarity about that night of the Epikegster.

“Yeah, he did,” because Jeff can read the tell me more on Jack’s face, “and he beat himself up about it for months. Told me he ran off at the mouth because he was angry at you. Hell, you weren’t even happy to see him.”

At the time, no. No, he wasn’t. 

“It was...a shock. We both said some pretty harsh things, I think. But, we’ve come a long way since then.”

“I’d say so. He can say your name without looking like he’s going to start crying now at least.”

Kenny…

“I’m not going to do that again,” Jack feels like he needs Jeff to know this. “He’s stuck with me this time, eh?”

Swoops laughs and raises his glass for Jack to tap with his own, “here’s hoping, Zimmermann. Here’s hoping. But hey, at least he has someone to help pick-up the pieces.”

**

Kent manages to get them through the throng of people at the bar and get them bottles of water, bracketing Bitty in with his arms to keep people around from jostling them.

They’re both sweaty and panting after the last song, and Bitty doesn’t even know how he managed to survive pretty much humping a professional hockey player on the dance floor without embarrassing himself.

“That was so fun,” Kent leans down to talk in his ear since they’re so close to the music, “can we dance some more?”

“Of course we can, honey,” Bitty tilts so he’s talking in Kent’s ear, and it presses them closer together, “but do you need to check in with your team?”

The laugh is low against his neck and Bitty almost, almost shudders.

“My guys are big boys, Bits. They’ll be fine without me mother-henning them to death.”

“Well, all right then, handsome. You’d better get me on out on that dance floor before someone else does!”

And it’s another song or so before they get a slow one. Kent manages to maneuver them into a corner, and pulls Bits in for a slow dance.

“Lord, that was fun,” Bitty doesn’t think much of it, his hands around Kent’s neck. “I don’t think I’ve had this much fun in a while.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” and Kent gives him that big ole’ smile that makes his whole face light up, and Bitty can’t really blame just one bit for just how cute Kent is in that moment. “I’m glad you came with Jack, Bits.”

“Me too. I had reservations with how close we’re getting to playoffs, but I’m glad I could take the time.”

The hands on his hips squeeze once, and Kent’s face falls, his eyes darting away.

Bitty moves a hand from around his neck to his face and turns him right on back. “Hey, what is it? Should we go?”

“N-no, no. I was just–” and Kent looks back at him with a frown, leans in a little to talk quieter. “Do you still hate me? From when I came to your college?”

And oh. Oh my.

Well, looks like they’re going to have this talk, aren’t they?

“I mean, it’s okay if you do. I was...a dick, okay? I was a complete and total dick. Zimms and I talked about it some, so-so he gets why I said some of the things I said because I mean, he just–and-and I… There’s a lot is all I’m saying. It was awful, not-not all of it, but therapy kind of helps a little? Sometimes it helps I mean, dealing with it when I found him like that, and then later when Big Bob–”

Bitty gently puts a hand over Kent’s mouth to shush him on up. 

“Kent, honey,” he tries softly, misses how those eyes get wide above his hand, “I understand how someone can say mean things when feelings are hurt, and it seems like you and Jack have mended fences since then, right?”

Kent nods without dislodging his hand, but his eyes are shiny and just oh, that poor boy. Jack had talked to him about those days back in Quebec with Kent Parson as his right-hand man, Bitty knows Kent is the one that saved Jack’s life during that overdose. He knows how quiet and strained Jack’s voice gets when he talks about it, can only imagine how terrified Kent had been finding him, performing CPR, getting him to the hospital in Bad Bob Zimmermann’s car.

He can’t touch that painful past for either of them, wishes sometimes he can give that back when he hears how wistful Jack sounds, sees how Kent sometimes looks like he has regrets. No, Bitty can’t fix their past for them, give them back their innocent days, but he can help the people they are in the here and now, can’t he?

“Well, that’s good to hear. What’s really important is that you don’t do that again, all right? Don’t take your anger out on Jack even if he might deserve it sometimes, and don’t ever say those horrible things to him again. Okay?”

Kent blinks at him and his eyes go softly half-mast. He finally nods with Bitty’s hand still over his mouth.

“Good. Then, we’re all fine, right?”

Another nod and a squeeze to his hips.

“Wonderful. Now Mister Parson, we are going to finish this song and then go back to your boys to celebrate. Maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll play ‘Crazy in Love’ later because that is one of my favorites.” He takes his hand away and grins up at Kent while his heart beats harder at the soft smile looking down on him.

“Good plan, B. If they play it, you can only dance with me, okay?”

“Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?”

Sure enough, the DJ plays ‘Crazy in Love’ and Bitty is pretty sure Kent’s the one that asked for it. That absolutely doesn’t mean he gives it any less ass shaking than it rightfully deserves.

**

He’s happy to see Jack laughing with Swoops and Poots when they finally tear themselves away from dancing, and Bitty absolutely refuses to drink whatever fruity thing Kent offers him because he’s not twenty-one quite yet, thank-you very much Mister Parson.

But the Aces are so nice when they leave, thanking Bitty again for his victory pies. He waves them off and doesn’t mind Jack’s hand at the small of his back when Kent guides them out.

(Later that night, he pretends he doesn’t hear Jack get up off the couch and walk down the hall to Kent’s room and softly close the door. But at that point, he’s not sure if he’s still a little jealous, or even who he’s really jealous of if he’s honest with himself.)

He eventually gets a few hours of sleep, and still wakes up god-awful early anyhow.

Since he’s been in this kitchen for three days already, he automatically puts on coffee and pulls out what he’s going to need to feed two big hockey players. 

He doesn’t even register Kent in the doorway watching him until the first cup of coffee is gone and the second is on the way there.

“Oh my Lord!” He fairly screams when he notices Kent watching.

“Sorry,” is totally unrepentant, the ass.

“You sure look it!” Bitty chirps back after his heart has climbed down out of his throat. “Goodness sakes, were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Nah, you just look cute in my kitchen, all busy and stuff. I like it.”

And well, that just takes the words right out of his mouth, so he goes back to make sure the bacon doesn’t burn while the quiche cools.

“Bits?!”

Jack is flustered and drenched from the shower, skittering almost right on the ground. He’s only got a towel around his waist and his hair is all over the place.

Bitty can resolutely say it’s the best morning in the history of mornings because that towel is awful short and Jack’s legs are awful long.

“I’m sorry! He just surprised me, we’re fine!” Bitty flaps his hands to shoo Jack out of the doorway. “Go on now and finish your shower. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Jack wipes water out of his eyes from his dripping hair and looks down at him silently.

“I promise, Jack. Go on now. Shoo! Naked is for the bathroom and the locker room.”

The slow grin is really just the nail in the coffin because no man should be that beautiful, it’s really not fair to the gay population. 

A glance at Kent’s shit-eating grin and he has to silently amend that statement. No men should be this beautiful.

While Jack trucks back down the hall, Bitty grabs paper towels to sop up the water he’d trailed, giving them up to Kent when he gets a frown for trying to clean up.

He tisks to himself and pours Kent a cup of coffee, mixing in the right amounts of cream and sugar, hands it to him when he throws away the wet paper towels.

He puts the bacon on another paper towel to get some of the grease while Kent sits down with his coffee. 

“I had so much fun last night. I can’t thank-you enough for taking us.” As he puts the quiche in the middle of the table.

“I had fun, too, B. Most the guys won’t dance no matter what, and you are awesome.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, sugar pie.”

Kent laughs at him, but reaches out to grip Bitty’s wrist before he can go back to the stove, “but, just so I know...you really don’t hate me anymore, right? We’re friends now?”

Oh, this must be the I need to tell you as Jack’s friend that me and him are datin’ talk. Lord, help him get through this conversation.

“Now, Kent. I already told you last night as long as you don’t hurt Jack like that again and have significantly groveled, we’re all fine.”

“Yeah, I know, but I mean, you and me. We’re fine, too, right?”

“Why of course we are.”

“Okay. Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure.”

Bitty pats Kent’s hand with the free one, “and you already know you can talk to me about anything, right? If things like that are bothering you, you can talk them out with me before you go and say something like that again, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Bits.”

“You’re welcome, Kent.”

He retracts his hand with another pat and goes back for the bacon, waiting for the something else that might be on Mr. Parson’s mind.

“Bits?”

Mmhm. There is it. “Yes, Kent?”

“You...can call me Kenny, too...I mean, if you want.”

The bacon plate in hand, and Bitty turns to look at the pink cheeks on Kent Parson, the way he doesn’t meet Bitty’s surprised eye.

(Even with all his team and the press coverage, he’s only ever heard Jack call Kent ‘Kenny.’)

“All right then, Kenny,” and oh is he grinning, thinking about chirping him just for fun. “I think we’re just about ready for breakfast.”

Nothing else comes of it, and Bitty’s not sure if he’s relieved or not.

 **

Jack slowly, methodically reads through the scans of the Rebels contract he’s got back at Samwell. Kent reads over his shoulder, eyebrows squinty in concentration.

Lord, they look so cute like that. It’s really surprising no one else has picked up on the dating yet because these two are absolutely transparent.

“So–”

He gets twin wait a minute fingers. 

“Well fine then,” and he meanders in the kitchen to see if maybe he should make those peppermint cookies after all. 

A batch later and both boys come on in and sit at the table with the tablet between them.

Bitty absolutely puts the cookies in the middle and pours glasses of milk. Kent looks from the plate to him with wide eyes. 

Two seconds later, he’s already demolishing his third.

Boys.

“All right, you two. Give me the low-down.” Bitty waves a hand over his shoulder and starts washing up dishes.

Jack tells him how it seems to be a right fair offer for a rookie hockey player. The money could be better, but well, it ain’t too shabby. 

Bitty sighs because the money is utterly obscene. More than his scholarship to Samwell for all four years.

Kent has no problem finishing Jack’s thoughts when he trails off, longer in the profession than Jack. He gives more examples of what bad contracts would probably be and makes Bitty wonder if this isn’t his first time helping with these sorts of things.

Well, as Captain of the Aces, he probably has. Not to mention how he babies his rookies. 

“So,” Bitty finally bites on his lip, looking down at the tablet, “so if...if I wanted to keep playing hockey after graduation. This is a good opportunity, is what you’re tellin’ me.”

Both Jack and Kent nod at him, serious as a heart attack.

“This is a good opportunity, Bits.”

“But,” Kent looks at him seriously, “we aren’t agents, either. This is from our experience. For a professional opinion, I can suggest some guys, so can Jack, that can haggle the contract for you.”

He stands at the sink with soapy hands braced on the edges, just looking out the window into Kent’s nice backyard. 

Kit is lounging on a dishtowel right there on the ledge to get some sun.

And just like his worst tendency, Jack stands up with a cookie and saunters over to stand beside him, back against the counter.

“It’s a lot to take in, bud,” is all growly and soft.

“I never imagined playing hockey after this year,” he admits, “buying a bakery, sure. Learning under other chefs, maybe taking a turn in another culinary art, yes. But, professional hockey? Hell, I couldn’t take a check without passin’ out a few years ago, Jack.”

Jack munches on his cookie, watching Bitty’s profile with soft eyes. “True. But, couple years ago, you wouldn’t have thought you’d end up Captain, and be on your way to the Frozen Four, eh?”

Kent shuffles his feet a little but boosts himself up on the counter beside Jack. “The AHL is like, our version of boot camp, you know? The kiddie pool before you hit the NHL. And there’s a four-season standard for that reason, B. You’ve got four seasons to play your best game and see if the Scouts are interested. I mean, a lot of guys that get a bad break and don’t make it, they can renew their contracts every four years or join the practice teams. Guys that still want to play hockey, like a lot of the guys on the Rebs.”

“That offer is for one season, though.” 

“Sure,” Jack fills in, meandering back for another, handing one off to Kent. “It’s a chance to get your feet wet, Bits, see if you can make the first year. I didn’t get a four-year from the Falcs until I got through the probationary period.”

“Lucky they didn’t make you billet, Jack. That’s usually a requirement.”

“Nah, I was old enough. Marty and Tater kept up with me, though. And I had Bits,” Jack shrugs and promises himself this is the last one even as he eyes the full plate.

He glances over at the serious expression on Bitty’s face, thoughts turning behind his eyes because now he’s thinking about it. On one hand, yes, he wants his bud to stay close, be on their sister team’s roster. Pawtucket is only twenty minutes or so from Providence, even closer than Samwell. 

(Jack wouldn’t have to lose him if Bits accepts the offer, keeps playing hockey. Jack thinks he’s terrible for wanting that as much as he does.)

For Bitty, the eminent future is looking closer and closer as this year draws to a close. Getting this offer was terrifying because of all those what if’s?

Kent hums around a mouthful, leans around Jack to look at him. “Sure, but you never know, B. You take Samwell to the ECAC, and there might be more people coming to talk to you.”

“Sugar pie, I’ve seen what you and Jack are up against. If there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of, it’s that I’m not ready for the NHL, no matter how far we go this year. But–” he sighs a little.

“But what, bud?” 

“...the real question is, what if I’m not ready to give it up once the season’s over?”

Kent chuckles at him around the last bite, “then you’ll have a year with the Rebels to figure out if you’re done with hockey, or not.”

He catches his breath a little (could it really be as simple as that?).

“...that’s what I needed to know, thank-you boys.” He pats Kent on the leg and Jack on the arm, taking up the tablet, swinging right around to go back to the stove and wait for the next batch, hip hitched on the cabinets while he reads all over again.

He’s going to call Coach and Mama when he gets back to Samwell. Then on Monday morning, he’s going to call Mr. McLean and accept the offer.

 ** 

It’s not his fault most the people he’s friends with are so much taller than him. 

Really, it’s not. 

So when Kent just grabs him up before he and Jack get on the plane and hugs him tight for long minutes, Bitty’s feet dangle off the ground, but he’s pretty much used to it by now. Shitty broke him of it first, Holster helped.

“I’m going to miss you,” is said against his shoulder because he thinks Kent might just be tearing up.

Because of Jack.

Because Jack’s leaving.

Right?

With his feet still dangling, he pats the back of Kent’s head soothingly. “I’ll miss you too, honey. But, it’s not forever, right? We’ll see you again.”

Kent eventually put him down when Jack laid a hand to his shoulder and turned him in for a hug, and Bitty looks away when Kent wraps himself around Jack like an octopus, shoulders shaking just a little. 

Jack makes soothing circles on Kent’s back, talks softly in French, and just holds on for a few long minutes. Bitty makes himself busy by checking their luggage tags and slips away to get them some coffee from one of the twelve Starbucks in the airport.

A caramel frappuccino helps a little, and Kent just sweeps him on up again.

Jack keeps a hand on the back of Kent’s neck until the very last second, and something in Bitty’s chest tightens a little, but for the very first time, he’s not sure if it’s for Jack touching Kent like that or if it’s for Kent being all upset they’re leaving.

Something to think about another day.

As is, he’s got a thesis to write, a team to take care of, and a pair of professional hockey players that need fresh baked goods. His plate is pretty much full.

** 4

His vlog has always been somewhere to vent when he needed to, and even if he doesn’t have a huge following with millions of subscribers (yet), he didn’t think things would turn out this way.

But, the school newspaper he usually ignores puts it right out there for everyone to read.

Eric Bittle of Samwell’s Own Hockey Team is the First Out Captain in the NCAA

Dex is there to put a hand on his shoulder when he feels like he suddenly can’t breathe.

Someone watched his vlog and picked up on a few things apparently (“Never fall for a straight boy.” Those words are going to haunt him forever). 

He’s out to the team, but not the rest of campus. Good Lord. Hopefully no one pays it any mind, and they can just ride right along to the next game.

It does not go away.

Instead, the news catches fire, and before he knows it, his face is on ESPN as the first out NCAA captain. The rainbow background isn’t doing him any favors, but in between the panic in his brain, he thinks the yellow of the spectrum looks real nice with those shorts.

Chowder is the one that calls him in to look at the breaking story, looking over the couch to take note of Bitty’s face. 

He shows how much his reflexes have improved when he throws himself over the couch and latches on when Bitty’s knees fail and he almost sprawls himself all over the floor. 

His phone is in his hand, and Chowder is talking, saying something. He didn’t know when Ollie and Wicks, Dex and Nursey, Tango and Whiskey and Foxtrot, River, Hops, and Louis all got there crowded around him, but he just seems to blink and there they all are.

“I,” he starts loudly, immediately quieting everyone with a single word, “am going to make a pie. Everyone is welcome to hang out while I am doing so.”

So, he makes a pie and while he does, he makes a plan.

He talks out how this could affect the team’s chances of getting to the Championship, how this could affect how they play, how they plan to win the next few games. Bitty thinks it might be smart to step down as captain, being pragmatic as possible now that he’s not panicking about finishing the season and his senior year at Samwell. 

Whiskey, who he hadn’t been able to connect with all darn season (more n’ likely because he found Whiskey at that party kissing the Lax bro), smashes his fist on the table and says that’s a whole lotta bull. Bitty’s the one that got them this far, and he’ll take them the rest of the way.

(Bitty still has several talks in the next few days. With the coaching staff, with Samwell administration, with the entire gathered team. He gives all of them the same option. He’ll give up being captain or all out quit the team if this would hurt their changes to go to the Frozen Four. He gets the same denial, loud and belligerent from his whole team –which warms his heart, honestly. They’re all such good boys.)

They decide to handle it one game at a time, and break for the night. In his room with coppery fear still in the back of his mouth, he holds his phone and stares at the contact information for Home. 

He’s almost pressed it when a FaceTime request comes from Kent.

Almost at the same time Jack doesn’t bother to knock, but just throws his bedroom door open, looking like he’d run miles.

Throwing himself to his feet, both hands up, he probably looks terrified because Jack scared the absolute heck out of him. 

“Bits,” and now it’s Jack that’s got both hands up, coming at him, “Bits, it’s okay. It’s okay, bud.” And he really means to say something, but he’s just all caught up in Jack. He smells so good and feels so nice, he’s strong when Bitty feels weak and shaky, picking him right on up and sitting down to fold over him like a big Canadian blanket.

“What a horrible way to be outed,” he laughs through the shakes, but his voice is hoarse. “This is absolutely awful, Jack.”

“God, it really is. I’m so sorry this is happening to you, Bits.”

“Lord, I’m making a fool of myself. What’s done is done, I suppose.”

“Still, I want to be here for you.”

“Oh, honey. I appreciate it.”

And he just lets himself sink into Jack a little, burying his face in Jack’s neck, just tries to breathe.

His phone goes off again, and this time Jack picks it up, sees who it is, and taps the top of Bitty’s head with it.

He thumbs the request without looking, just keeping his face right where it is. This is the best he’s felt since that awful ticker tape just laid out his biggest secret, and put a big ole’ target right on his back.

“Hi Kenny,” and he’s proud his voice sounds as steady as it does.

“Hey B,” is so soft and concerned, his heart gives a little patter. 

Jack holds the phone for him with one hand, and squeezes him tight with the other. 

“This sucks so hard, B. I’m so sorry ESPN gives a fuck about college sports enough to do something shitty like this.”

He raises his face just enough for Kent to see half his face out of Jack’s bulk. “One of those silly human interest stories, I guess. Too bad they got a little too interested, huh?”

“You can totally sue the shit out of them, okay? B, I know a guy. He could get you millions.”

“That won’t make everything right, Kenny, but thank-you for being here with me.” He gives a shuddering sigh, “I’m still going to have to deal with the backlash, and as much as I hate it, so will the team. I haven’t talked to the administration or the coaches, but it might be smart if I step down for the rest of the season, maybe quit outright. Then the boys might still be able to make it to the Frozen Four…”

“You’re two games away, B. You can’t give up now!”

“Agree. You got them here, they’ll have your back, Bits.”

“Kenny, Jack this is hockey. Everyone we go against from here on out is going to be gunning for us. The things they’re going to say to the boys–”

“They’ll handle it. Trust me,” Jack soothes, “they won’t let you give up either.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll see come Monday,” he’s tired, but there’s no slowing down right now, even if Kent is petting Kit and Jack’s lap is absurdly comfortable.

“Besides,” Kent continues, “you’re not alone, B. Plenty of us in the NHL. We’re just not like, out out. Maybe to our teams and stuff, not like, outed on ESPN or anything, fuck those guys. You seriously don’t want me to contact my guy for you? He got 6.8 million dollars for a celebrity case–”

“So you’re out to your team then, Captain Parson?” He blinks because the way Kent just came out with it, not a stutter one, shakes him.

“Huh? Well, yeah, of course I am. I’ve been on the Aces for years, Bits. These guys are like my family, so yeah, they know.”

“O-oh.”

Kent blinks at him, pauses. “Ah, I didn’t come right out and tell you, but yeah. Me too, so it’s okay, B. You’re not alone.”

It’s that moment when Jack leans down, shifting so Bitty’s looking up at him. “You’re not alone,” Jack repeats softly, “I kiss boys sometimes, too. None of that changes how good you are at hockey, and none of that changes you, okay Bits?”

And Lord above help him. He throws both arms around Jack, biting his lower lip between his teeth, and shaking like a leaf in a wind storm.

“Jack...Kenny…thank-you, boys. Just when I need you, and there you are.” He chokes a little, and there’s Jack folding down around him, there’s Kent holding Kit closer to the phone, sending virtual purrs and cuddles.

He doesn’t feel that bad wrapping his legs around Jack’s waist shamelessly, locking his ankles in the back, and just not facing the world for a while. 

It gets a little better when Jack tries to squeeze into a pair of his shorts while Kenny is brushing his teeth and talking about the camp they had at a local rink, running drills and plays with some of the high school kids from around the area. 

But everything in the world absolutely pauses when Jack clears his throat awkwardly

And really, God Bless Canada. 

The little sigh that comes out of him is echoed from his phone, and yes Kenny, they do have good taste.

“I can’t sleep in these, Bits, ah, sorry.”

But that color blue stretched taunt against Jack’s big thigh is just the best sight he’s probably ever seen.

“I’m sorry, but that’s all I’ve got to offer. I can go talk to Dex?” Because Chowder has wider shoulders like Jack, but is about a foot shorter.

“Eh, not necessary.”

And well, yes. Bitty knows Jack wears cute little briefs. They were on a team together, have spent time in the locker room, have seen the occasional moment before towels go on. It’s men’s sports for crying out loud. 

But none of that, absolutely none of that, prepares him for Jack shimmying out of those shorts for black briefs that absolutely mold to his behind and cup the front of him. The real coup de gras is that t-shirt coming off, and heaven help him, it’s muscles for miles. 

Only those little briefs between Bitty and what the Good Lord gave Jack, the definition of fine walking across the room like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. 

Bitty unabashedly watches, lips parted, cheeks a soft shade of pink. 

Jack closes the bathroom door, smirking where Bits can’t see, muffled noises as he roots around in the bathroom for a spare toothbrush. It gives Bitty can just take a second to himself to take in this whole situation. 

He’s been outed on a national sports network that may or may not take the question of the Rebels right out of the equation

Chances of going all the way to the finals is looking slimmer and slimmer the more he thinks about it

Jack and Kenny confirmed some of his suspicions and it’s an absolute crime and a blessing that they’ve found each other again

Jack has gotten bulkier than Bitty realized in the last year and a half playing for the NHL and his ass should be marked as a dangerous weapon

He hasn’t answered any of the phone calls from home

Still, Coach sent him a text, Call your mother. She’s worried about you.

 And top of the list, Jack Zimmermann is in his bathroom, shirtless, barefoot, after just having verbally come out to him.

If there was ever anyone that deserves to be up for Sainthood, it’s this good ole’ Georgia boy Right. Here. 

With his head in his hands, he groans softly, and scurries to throw on his own sleep clothes, stripping down without a thought more than those short on Jack and those shorts off Jack.

“I absolutely feel you,” a breathy chirp, and he forgot Kenny probably saw the entire thing.

Bitty spins, almost ready to start getting on a boat down that river called denial when he realizes Kenny is giving him the most devilish looking smile.

“It’s really unfair that he’s a hockey God and blisteringly hot to boot.”

“We are the best of friends, I’ll have you know Mister Parson. Jack doesn’t even see me that way, even after tonight. Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s got his eye set on someone prettier than little ole’ me.”

He throws the covers back to busy his hands, but can spare a second to put some charm into it and look back at Kenny with a wink. 

It’s either the best or the worst timing because Kenny gets this look on his face, opening his mouth for something that might have been good or bad, when Jack comes out of the bathroom smelling like mint and looking like a touch could burn you down to the ground.

Kenny looks at him for a few long seconds while they’re climbing into bed, and chirps them about hands above the comforter and hockey bros cuddle like champs before he yawns and finally hangs up for the night.

The sheet gets maneuvered between them so he’s not going to be tortured most of the night with only his sleep shirt and pants between them–

(and those sinful underwear, he’s never going to forget those)

–so it’s suspiciously easy to drop off with Jack’s arm around him and snoring in his ear.

**

The next two games are utterly brutal. 

Ice bags are wrapped around his shoulder while he sits in his spot in the locker room, forearms on his knees to just hurt while Chowder is talking at his right and Dex at his left.

The bruises tomorrow are going to be beautiful, but heck, what’s some bruises when Samwell is officially in the Frozen Four.

Lord, they made it.

And he will start celebrating, right after he can raise up his arm again.

Oh, that’s going to be sore tomorrow. Making pies for the campus captain club is going to be awful, isn’t it?

He manages to get the ice bags off in time to walk with the boys back to the Haus, Ollie already scooping up his bag and Chowder, bless his heart, hovering anxiously right by him the whole walk there.

They don’t make him do a keg stand this time, thank goodness, but the party celebrating their win is well underway in less than an hour.

It’s real nice when the Lax bros bring in a stack of pizzas and slap him on the back in congratulations, like he hadn’t just been outed on national television. (He loves Samwell so much.) Chad L. says a whole bunch of something that Bitty tries to follow and ends up handing him a plate with pizza and accepting a piece of pie in exchange. 

The fire extinguisher is in plain sight to remind the footballers what could happen if they don’t behave, and at least two of his boys hang around him most the night, bracketing him on both sides to keep an eye on him. Ollie and Wicks pop around the corner periodically anyhow.

He catches Chowder taking a picture for social media, has a second of panic, almost tells his sweet son not to do that because everyone knows, but shuts his mouth last minute and straightens up to grin for the next one.

**

The night the news came out, Bitty changed his social media to private, hoping to avoid some of the homophobic comments. Since the morning after (and it’s a crying shame he missed seeing those little black briefs again since Jack was already dressed by the time he got up), he’s been talking to pretty much everyone.

Most of all, his Mama and Coach...and Mr. McLean.

Jack squeezes his hand, and Bitty bites his lip, but still, “I’m afraid I don’t think I should accept your offer after all. This isn’t going to blow over any time soon.”

“Mr. Bittle. I’m interested because you’re fast, you’ve got soft hand, and you’re a good fit for the Rebels. As far as I understand, this isn’t going to change any of that.”

“O-oh!”

“If you want to play hockey, Mr. Bittle, you can do that with us.”

And it’s there when he looks in Jack’s blue, blue eyes, when he thinks about Ollie and Wicks, when he thinks about Shitty being so kind when he’d come out to the first person on the team. It’s there when he thinks about being terrified at that first check practice, when he thinks about how dang far he’s come in four years.

(It’s tough, but you’re tougher.)

“I want to play hockey, Mr. McLean.”

“That’s the spirit Mr. Bittle. I’ll send you training camp information in the next week or so. Welcome to the Pawtucket Rebels.”

If Jack holds him tight while he almost shakes apart once he hangs up the phone, well, only Chowder and Dex will ever tell a soul because they fell on him and Jack like a ton of bricks, hugging him and laughing.

**

Shitty, Ranson, Holster, and Lardo make the trip from Boston to show up on the Haus doorstep before they’ve even finished clean-up from the party the night before.

Before he knows it, he’s got Shitty crying all over him, telling him he’s so proud and Bitty’s just the best little captain there ever was.

It’s so nice because Shitty is silly as hell, but he’s an amazing friend in times of need. 

And he can’t say it isn’t nice when Shitty picks up the loud speaker and starts shooing the rest of the hanger-oners out.

“Frozen Four!” Ransom crows, “our guys are going to kick some ass.”

“You said it, bro,” Holster warmly pats Bitty on the shoulder with one of those big hands while this pie is just coming along easily enough.

The flinch when the bruises ache is enough for more ice bags to get wrapped around him, and Shitty to shake a finger in his face, talking about taking care of himself. It might not be a concussion, but they’ve got serious games coming up, and he needs to be tip top if he’s going to take them all the way.

Bitty takes it to heart and lets them baby him for a few hours.

It does get worse when Dex and Chowder see Holster pulling the neck of his shirt up a little to check how bad it is, and then he’s got more hockey players in his kitchen butting in. Luckily, Dex is getting just as good at making pie as Bitty, and finishes up the lattice work perfectly.

He talks strategy with Ransom and Holster at the kitchen table while Lardo makes another pot of coffee, and Chowder subtly slips the bottle of ibuprofen next to him. Whiskey listen to them strategize for the upcoming games, and my, don’t it feel so normal.

He hugs Shitty again, holds on just as tight as he can, and thanks the Good Lord for such amazing friends.

**

Mama and Coach are more understanding than he ever would have imagined, taken in account what a shock it is just to come across the television like that.

“Dickey, honey, now you know,” and she has to pause because Lord, his Mama is crying, “you know you can always come home. Always. No matter what. We love you. We love you and everything else, we can figure all that out.”

And so, since he’s never said it, only thought about what could happen, he tells her, “Mama… I’m gay.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know and that’s-that’s fine. We can figure it all out. But, you can come home sometime before the semester ends, can’t you?”

“N-not while we’re close to the Championships, Mama. I-I can’t–”

“Junior.” 

And now he’s glad he just called instead of trying to FaceTime. So glad he doesn’t have to look Coach in the face right now.

“You’ve done a heck of a job this year. Been a good captain. You know me and your mama are proud, don’t you Junior?”

And there goes his lip all trembling, his eyes getting hot. Only Jack squeezing his hand keeps him together at all.

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

“Good. You just keep fighting. We’ll be here cheering you on, all right?”

His breath hitches in his chest, “yes, Daddy.”

“That’s my boy. You can do it, Junior. They’re tough–”

“–but I’m tougher,” and he’s covering his eyes, shoulder hunching down. Jack goes from holding his hand to pretty much lifting him up enough to slide on Jack’s lap.

“That’s right, son. You sure as hell are.”

He sighs out, a soft noise. “I am, Daddy. We made the Frozen Four.”

“Go get ‘im. Me and your Mama are behind you all the way.”

And even if Coach gets squicky when it’s time for I love you, Bitty manages to get it out anyhow.

“Love you too, son. Now you gotta stop, or else your mama’s gonna drown me.”

The thick laugh is so much better than crying. Jack thinks so too apparently, squeezing tight while Bitty’s sitting on his thighs.

If he thinks there’s a kiss pressed to the top of his head, well, he’s just going to blame it on being emotionally overwrought and leave it at that.

**

He didn’t bother with pads, just pants, sweatshirt, gloves, stick, helmet, and skates. The ice is quiet as can be in the morning light bouncing off Faber, making it beautiful.

Kenny’s far enough ahead of them that he’s on a break from practice, already home making brunch. “Big Red is going to be killer, B. Cornell is ruthless. Fighting Hawks from North Dakota.”

His skates cut through the ice until he’s gliding, hitting the long stretch, pumping as fast as his legs can take him, cycling the puck. 

He doesn’t reply to Kenny, just listens while his muscles burn, his mind works, he sees the next move like a playbook. 

Over the past four years, he’s gotten stronger, faster. Sure, he’s smaller than the average hockey player, but that don’t mean weak. Everyone they’ve played already figured that one out now didn’t they?

His arms and shoulders burn when he swings high, throws some muscle in it when he slaps the puck right in the sweet spot of the net.

“No fair, B. I want to watch!”

“I’d have to set my phone in the stands, sugar pie.”

“If that means I get to watch you do suicides, I’m on board.”

Bitty laughs out loud because Lord, he sounds like Jack. 

“Trying to kill me before practice?”

“Captain’s prerogative, babe.”

Obligingly, Bitty sets up his helmet, laying on it’s side, throws a t-shirt in it to hold the phone up, and FaceTimes Kenny.

He gives the captain of the Aces a wink and then takes off to the blue line. He’s got his game face on, stick balanced perfectly, moving like his ass is on fire.

After a good turn out, he skates back to the stands where Kenny is very close to the screen. 

“Well, there you go, Captain,” he snickers, scooping up the whole thing so Kent goes around the rink for some easy, cool-down laps with him before the boys start meandering in for practice. “That what you wanted to see?”

“You? Are fast, B. That was incredible.”

“Oh, sugar pie,” he grins down at Kent’s face in his helmet, “you say the nicest things.”

“Hey, I’m not being nice, Bits. I’m saying as a professional hockey player that you? Are fast.”

“Well, so are you. Short guys like us have a tendency to out-maneuver the big guys.”

“I’ve based most of my career on being the fast guy on the team, B, but I don’t know how I’d hold up against you.”

“Mmhm. I also haven’t been playing professionally for the last few years, tearing the fire out of my knee, Kent.” Very serious because he’s counted how many nights he’s seen ice bags over that knee in the last few weeks.

“Also true. It might be surgery for me this summer, but that should do a lot. I’ll have maybe ten years instead of five.”

“So you said. Your doctor is talking about it again?”

“...yeah. He says it should do wonders for where I’m at right now, and this might be the year to just do it and get it over with.”

“Three-time Stanley Cup winner is where you’re at right now, sugar pie.”

The laugh is nice, but now he’s wondering if he can convince Kenny to come to Providence and stay with Jack during his recovery. That’ll let Bitty be close enough to come over and take care of him while his knee heals. He’s already thinking it over when his third lap is coming up.

“B.” Startles him right out of his thoughts.

“Kenny?”

And something is there in the way Kenny is looking at him from the screen. “Be careful at the game tonight. Watch out for the Minnesota D-Men, okay?”

“Thank-you, sugar. You watch on out for those Rangers.”

“I will. Just send me a text when the game is over, even if I’m in overtime, okay?”

“You know it, honey. Now go on and get a nap. We’ve both got a busy night tonight.”

**

This could be the last time he steps out on the ice. This could be it. All of it could end right here right now. 

They’ve got to play their hearts out. He’s got to give it everything he’s got. For himself, for the boys, for Samwell. 

It comes down to this, facing Minnesota’s line like there ain’t no going back.

**

He sits on his bed, faggot and fairy in his head from the game earlier. He doesn’t accept Jack’s call because his face is a mess.  

Well, serves him right because Jack just shows up at the Haus an hour later when Bitty has finally got it together.

**

The check is absolutely brutal. 

He used to be floored by it, curled up in a little ball on the ice, couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely breathe. 

But not this damn time. Oh hell no. 

It’s fast when he’s back up on his feet, shoving his way through bigger men than him and stealing that puck right on out from under them. 

He feels like he’s got wings on his feet when he glides by them like they’re just standing still. 

**

Mama and Coach are here because they’ve come down to the last stand. 

This is it.

Jack and Kenny are both there and where in the world they got #15 Bittle jerseys, he will never know.

Number #82 has already been gunning for him, but the last one is the very last of Eric Bittle’s patience running right on out.

His heart is racing, his legs burning, skates cutting ice as he steers around players, gritting his teeth against the ache, and for the first time, he’s gonna stand up, holler out that no, he’s not gonna take that nonsense lying down.

The moment slows down for long enough that he feels weightless when he pushes off, is airborn, shoving all his weight right into #82 just as they’re at the Samwell bench and shove the both of them right in with the boys.

It’s a tangle of arms and legs and skates and sputtering. 

“Try me again, asshole,” Bitty sneers in #82’s face with the face guards the only thing between them. 

“Homophobic prick!” One of his boys shouts.

Coach and the boys pick him up (shocked because he doesn’t usually have a need for potty mouth thank-you very much), want him to go get checked out while the ref blows the whistle just after Whiskey gets the puck, and now it’s all on Samwell.

He doesn’t get a penalty, thank goodness, and argues loudly with Coach to let him back in the game, he needs to get back. It’s not like he lost a tooth, just some scratches from going over. It’s a long look in his eyes before Coach just throws up his hands and shoos him back. 

And Bitty’s not thinking about Jack and Kenny and Shitty and Lardo and Ransom and Holster and Mama and Daddy and everyone else up in those stands screaming for them when he hits the ice again. He’s not thinking about how badly he hurts or the scratches on his face. He’s not thinking about his thesis or graduation or his spot in Jack’s guest room. 

He’s only thinking about the tied score, the next play, and how they’re going to show these away boys exactly who’s house this is.

**

And his arms strain when his stick comes back, when he slams that puck with every ounce of strength he has left. His heart thuds hard in the back of his mouth when their goalie’s hand shoots out, tries to catch the puck, just the tips of his gloves skimming the surface.

The alarm blares and the scoreboard changes so fast, Bitty’s not really sure what happened until his boys slam into him, gather all around him, screaming.

He’s dazed, fingers limply holding his stick, eyes still stuck on the scoreboard even when they lift him up, stick and all.

The crowd takes to the ice, and he gets his helmet off in time to get hugs from Mama and Coach, in time to accept the huge trophy, him and Coach and Dex holding it up with all the boys around them just a hooting and a hollering all over the place. 

Ransom and Holster catch him right up off his feet, crying all over him when they tell him how proud they are.

The interviews shake him out of the daze and he tells the viewers at home that the team fought hard for this and earned it all themselves. He’s proud to be their teammate and captain, he’s proud to be a Wellie, and darn it, their hard work paid off.

Just as he turns, sees Chowder going past with three of their guys behind him, singing the Samwell song at the top of their lungs, he catches Jack and Kenny standing on the ice by the boards, watching him with soft smiles on their faces, and his eyes get hot abruptly, get full as can be.

Center ice, just like with the Stanley Cup. And this ain’t that now. This? This one is all his.

He feels his lower lip tremble just a little, puts his hand up to stop it, but dang it if Jack and Kenny aren’t just easing across the ice toward him with those smiles and his name across the back of their shoulders.

He gets a hand on the back of his neck and a shoulder to hide his face while the whooping and celebrating gets loud, loud, loud.

Lord, he’s going to vlog the hell out of this tomorrow.

**

Shitty is naked. 

While it’s not new (they’ve been to Haus 2.0, and yes, Shitty was naked there too. Good times, really), Bitty has always had reservations about him being skin-to-fabric on that dang couch. Who knows what he might get. Well, all that spilled tub juice probably goes a long way to sanitize. Or so he says to keep his revolution to a minimum. 

Watching Kenny get his ass handed to him from Lardo is hilarious. Watching Jack give in and have a chugging competition is even better. 

He’s lucky the ECAC playoffs beat the NHL by almost a month. Jack and Kenny have another week before they start getting serious. 

Ransom and Holster are talking animatedly with the Waffles, back slaps all around. He’s pleased as can be when Shruti, Sharon, Edgar, Chad L., and some other captains drop by to say congratulations and have a piece of pie. He doesn’t see Jack pause over his shoulder while he talks up a storm, doesn’t see the considering look on Jack’s face.

Something about this Bitty hits him harder than the last four years, makes that perpetual tightness in his chest mean something completely different than anxiety.

He should have realized it long before his graduation, should have been terrified of it all happening again. 

Bitty affects him in so many of the same ways Kenny does, and it’s an amazing yet terrifying thing for Jack Zimmermann. Feeling like this person you’re looking at is literally made for you. 

And just as he starts taking a step forward, pushing himself in to stand at Bitty’s side like he’s done the majority of their friendship, Kenny ducks out of nowhere and takes him by both biceps. His expression is desperate.

“You’ve got to stop her. Zimms. Zimms, be on my team. Right now.”

It’s so absurd because it’s Kenny and also because he knows no one is beating Lardo. 

Ever.

Anything else is wishful thinking.

He casts a wistful look at Bitty, animated with his big win, and if Jack literally has his heart in his eyes until they’re out of sight, then only Chad L. from would have seen it.

**

Later on after the captains have said good night and some of their...guests have started staggering out, cheering for Samwell, for hockey, for tub juice, and for pie. 

For this one, Bits really couldn’t take credit because Dex really made most of them, bless his heart.

Moving around the party-goers with a spare trash bag to pick up a bit, he spots someone sneaking upstairs, pauses to squint up in case he needs to charge on up there and firmly remind people the upstairs is off limits. 

Or break out the fire extinguisher.

Either way.

...but he knows that ass in those jeans, and gasps softly as Jack’s plaid is bouncing up the steps ahead of Kenny. 

And, he can let out a sigh, catch just a little bit of bittersweet. But, if there is anything Eric Richard Bittle prides himself on, it’s being a good friend. If Jack and Kenny needed a-a wingman or whatever, then he’s just going to dang well be that.

He keeps an eye on the stairs for the rest of the night for more than one reason. No one, no one, is going to disturb them when they’ve finally come this far, and even if he silently dreads it, hopes they at least used his room instead of a bathroom for heaven’s sake.

[tangledwirearchive]

❛ what , you’re gonna shoot me ? ❜ COLLTT

( tw: blood mention, drug mention )

the rabbit's pink tuft of a tail bobs ahead of her, just out of reach as she skitters behind it, clamoring along in her too high heels. there's ribbon laced around her ankles, tied in a bow, a ribbon tied around her neck, also fashioned into a bow. hot pink, against the pastel of her dress. this time the rabbit dons a red bowtie, perched perfectly against his neck. she doesn't stop to wonder how it stays on as he runs ahead, quick enough that she can't grasp him, but slow enough she doesn't lose him in the otherwise pitch black surroundings. her heels clack against the ground, echoing against the walls that seemingly go on forever. there's no way to tell where one begins and the other ends, no way of telling how far she's traversed thus far with nothing to go off of. a quick look back over her shoulder reveals nothing to her, so she turns back around to continue her chase.

the rabbit is nowhere to be found. aoi skids to a halt, placing her hands on her hips with an annoyed huff as she turns this way and that, eyes darting around the darkness with the hopes of catching a glimpse of the rabbit. he's nowhere to be found. so, with no other choice, she continues to walk in the direction she assumes to be forward. something inside her compels her to continue down that specific track and she does so with her head held high, though her eyes are narrowed and her lips twisted into a frown. there's nobody to impress in the darkness, nothing to toy with, no reason for saccharine smiles or gentle hands. she sighs as she continues forward, each click of her heel irritating her more the further she continued on. one step, two steps, three steps, she continues with no way of knowing how much time has passed. she's aware her feet hurt, but the ribbons keep the heels fastened and she's in no mood to struggle with the tight knots wrung around her limbs. she'd just have to keep walking. and walking. and walking. how boring.

suddenly a light flickers on, a lightbulb slowly moving to and fro hangs directly above her and a light buzz fills the room. her frown only grows as she stops walking, looking straight up towards the bulb before turning to asses her surroundings. nothing else seems to have changed. the rest of the world is still shrouded in darkness. she runs a hand through her hair in irritation, hissing when they snag in a tangle near the ends of her hair, and stomps one foot down against the ground. it booms in the silence. she covers her eyes, rubs her palms harshly against them, and nearly screams. she bites it down at the last second. when she pulls her hands away she's in her room, lying on the floor next to her bed. next to her are her heels, her dress is thrown haphazardly across the bed. she's dressed in a shirt she doesn't remember owning and she picks at it curiously, her brows furrowing at the graphic design on the front. it's much too big for her, fits her more like a dress, and smells like cologne. she rolls her eyes and pushes herself up to a sitting position, immediately grabbing her head with a groan, the world going black the moment she is straight. her body feels light and she nearly falls back, but she manages to hold herself up, giving her a few seconds before she blinks against the light of the sun shining into her room. right, she'd forgotten to close the drapes. rookie mistake. she rubs her hands against her eyes again, uncaring of the makeup smudging below them causing her to look like a raccoon and finally rises to her feet. she staggers for a moment, throws her hands out to catch herself, but steadies and leaves to asses the rest of her apartment. she doesn't notice the opened bottle of orange pills on her bedside table.

a cursory glance around her place reveals no sort of danger nor any answers to why her head hurt so bad, but she wasn't a fool. she was well aware she relied too heavily on her vices to make her way through her days, but without them she felt lost. even now, the lights seemed to bright and the world a bit too dull. she digs her nails into her own palm and frowns, bringing her fist up to her mouth to bite on her thumbnail. a habit she did when she was thinking, typically only seen when her mind wasn't clouded or filling the world with distorted visions. already, she missed the pink. upon noticing her phone on the counter she grabs it and scrolls through the few texts she's received, not bothering to respond to any until she comes across a familiar name. her face lights up immediately and she's quick to tap away at the screen, uncaring that she's managed to lose most of her fake nails. only four remained overall. bright lime green. when had she chosen that color? no matter, it was time to replace them, anyway.

[ sms: colt ] hiiiiii~ ヾ(＠＾▽＾＠)ﾉ [ sms: colt ] i need your assistance right now!! it's an emergency!!!! [ sms: colt ] i appear to be bleeding! there's so much blood!! ehehe i don't want to die~ ☆d(o⌒∇⌒o)b

she doesn't think as she types and tosses her phone away as soon as she's finished. it dings but she's not too concerned with the reply, instead her focus is on the knives in their holder, the small bit of silver she can see gleaming in the light, almost as though it's mocking her. she hums, flopping half onto her counter where a half finished box of cereal sits. she reaches in, pulls out a handful and shoves it into her mouth. it's stale. how long had it been sitting out? oh well. another look around reveals that she hasn't cleaned in quite a long time, at least, she assumes so based on what a disaster her place appeared to be. in the corner cowers a group of small yokai. she only glares at them before spinning on her heel, box of cereal in hand as she continues to shovel it into her mouth. she wasn't sure if she even had other food to choose from. it'd do for now. she was only slightly hungry to begin with.

she's not sure how much time passes, she's long finished what was left of the cereal and the box now lies discarded on the floor, half crushed from where usagi had used it as a means to jump onto the couch to lie on aoi's chest. he's purring and she's content, a small smile on her face. she may have found the world and her surroundings pitifully boring, but there were few things that made her happy the way usagi did. his fur felt nice under her fingers. she wondered if the rabbit would feel as nice. the thought causes her to frown, though she's pulled from her thoughts at the sound of a knock at her door. she jolts into a sitting position and usagi leaps away, retreating to his usual spot beneath the couch, his eyes barely visible in the shadows. it's still daytime, but she could never be too prepared, so she grabs the closest thing to her that could be used as a threat, or perhaps even a weapon if need be. a toy gun, bright pink and small, that only shot little pellets. meant to be nothing more than a party gag. it'd have to do. with furrowed brows she opens the door, forgetting the peephole existed in her mission to eliminate the potential threat. she points, finger on the trigger, before blinking, bewildered. colt? right, she'd asked him to come over. why did she do that again? no matter. he was here. she wasn't hurt. he was probably going to be angry. aoi finds herself smiling.

"what , you’re gonna shoot me?"

"shoot you? i'd never! i thought you were a big, scary man coming to take me away! maybe the owner of this shirt coming back to retrieve it, i don't know. but not you! never you!" she tugs him inside before he has a chance to escape, strong despite her small stature. you couldn't be weak when your main job was hunting yokais. she basically slams the door shut with a kick of her foot and tosses the toy gun off to the side, quick to crowd his space as she usually did. he was there, a beacon of color in her dull world, even if she didn't like him much. or maybe she did. she couldn't be so sure. she liked his company enough, so perhaps she didn't fully dislike him. friendship was confusing. feelings even more so. she'd dwell on it some other time.

"ah, so, i may have lied. i'm not really hurt." her arms find their way behind her back and she kicks at the floor, feigning nervousness and guilt. she pouts for added effect, looking up at him through her lashes. "you're not mad, right?"

[magical-gay-wizards]

for your prompt thing..."right to the good parts" #2. But I've always shipped Drarry as genderbent. Can you do that? kthxbai

 CoOh yes!! Thank you okay! This sounds fun!  – alright, this is my interepratation of the Yule Ball – “We were dancing but all of a sudden it’s a slow song and we’re standing here awkwardly staring at each other.” 

After the Tri-wizard tournament, the Hogwarts Administration had elected to keep the Yull Ball as a celebratory tradition for last night of the first semester. As students were still allowed to decide where they wanted to spend their winter holiday, most upperclassmen choose the use the night as the first evening of a two-weeklong cozy romantic romp throughout the wintrey castle grounds.  

The last evening of first semester Harry stood getting ready for her second to last Yule Ball, tonight wouldn’t be the big blow out shindig that the Seventh Years were having, and she’d be sneaking into if she was lucky, but it was still going to be a night to remember. Better than two years ago when she and Ron just spent the whole night moping that they weren’t old enough to enter the tournament and not cool enough for the pretty girls to dance with them. She had hoped to have met a special someone this year to sit next to the fires with before the night of the dance, but alas, destined to be another girls night out.  

Entering the Great Hall was a mass swarm of people, already giggly from the potent elixer of no responsibilities moreso than the illicet mirthroot and butterbeer, the lingering smell of which fragenced the air. Harry peered down from the staircase, hoping for a first glance at Draco. Their friendship was a new one, recently blossomed in being paired as partners for Advanced Potions and channeling their competitiveness into forced Snape Mandated extra practices on the Quiditch Pitch.  

Draco glanced up from the floor as she entered into the Great Hall, eyes peered upward trying to see if she managed to beat Harry for once. Her eyes immediatly picked out Harry from the crowd, wearing an off the shoulder red affair that somehow mangaged to be both frilly and tight to the body and showed off far to much leg in Draco’s humbled opinion. How a Seeker managed to get that much leg muscle mass was beyond her–although maybe it was all those arduous trips up to Gryffindor Tower. Draco was about to excitedly raise and wave her arm to call out to Harry when she opted for a cool lean against a stone column, confident Harry would make her way over to her. Noting this would also give her an excellent view of the way of her hips swayed as she did. 

Harry spotted Draco leaning against a column, cool as ever. She was wearing a drapey silvery thing and her hair seemed somehow even straighter and slinkier than normal. She looked to be bathed in moonlight, McGonagall was going to write her up for dress code violation before the night was out for sure. Harry snickered at the thought. She hurriedly headed down the stairs in Draco’s direction, tripping slightly in her haste. Embarressed she glanced up, maybe Draco hadn’t noticed her yet!  

The whole evening was a constant non-stop blur. The two girls dancing the whole night away, feet aching, hearts throbbing. Draco kept casting a breeze enchantment that kept a small cool steady stream flowing around them, Harry’s bobbing curls matching the lightness of her dancing feet. Harry had enjoyed the night with Draco, when she spotted her ealier she had not intended on spending the whole evening with her. They got shuffled along into a line for photos and chatted about the end of the semester, Harry was surprised to learn Draco was choosing to stay at Hogwarts this winter instead of the go back to the family Manor, but she didn’t pry. Then, when they found out The Weird Sisters were performing again they managed to find a spot right next to the stage and hadn’t left it since.  

“Draco! Draco! I’m ready for a drink!!” Harry screamed out over the noise defeaning crowd. 

“What?” 

“I’m thirsty, I want a drink!” 

“One more song? Then we can get refreshments and go cool off outside.” 

Harry paused, breathless. “Alright! One more” 

At the moment the delierous song complete with mer wobbling and pheonix cries came to an end and Jarvis crooned out over the crowed, “It’s getting into that part of the evening everybody, where you grab the person closest to you, hold them tight, and whisper in their ear how important to you they are.” 

Draco and Harry stood still, chests heaving, staring at each other. A silent millisecond that streched on for an eternity. 

Harry’s verdant green eyes, darting, searching, questioning. 

Draco’s flashing silver were soft, yearning. 

Harry stepped back with an impish grin, “Mi’lady, if you would do me the honor” she said with a gallant bow. Draco awkwardly stepped forward into Harry’s arms, as if in a daze. They settled into each other’s arms with the grace of two baffoons who have no idea what they are doing as Jason Cocker’s voice began to croon. An old song, one of his firsts. Of lovers, endless woods, and missed oppertunities in the moonlight. Draco began to stiffen, Harry halting in response. 

“No, no, this is all wrong.” Draco shuffled and moved, repositioning arms, “There that’s better. This is the correct position, I’m suppose to go here.” and somehow Draco managed to slide both of them into an easy position of holding each other yet still dancing. Harry couldn’t tell who was taller at this point, it had been a race between the two of them, but she could tell that from this angle that her head would fit perfectly in the curve between Draco’s shoulder and chest. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“Hmmm?” Harry shook her head quickly. 

“What are you thinking about? You’ve got this funny….glazed….look in your eye, and after what Jason said….” 

“What?! No, I mean! Um, what? Jason…and I uh…what?” 

Draco chuckled softly, and then turned and twirled Harry into a spin out and back again, drawing her in close as the song got to the bridge. She murmed, “You are so important to me Harry, more than you could ever begin to know.” The song ended and Draco held them both firmly in a dip, Harry’s head spinning, either from the words she just her or the lack of oxygen after a night of ceaseless dancing, thier lips just moments from each other. 

Draco stood them up, kept a firm hold on Harry to ensure she was balanced, and asked, “Drinks?” 

This was so fun!!! Oh that was so so fun!!! I loved exploring these two this way and would love to go on more adventures with them. Let me know what you think and if you’d want more of that. Thank you so much Nonnie for being the first person to message me!! And what a fun little drabble. 

[beiingalive]

* ⌞ʾ⁎ ⊰ zoë kravitz, nonbinary, they/she/him ⊱ i think i just saw BOBBIE SONDHEIM walk across trafalgar square, singing to TO BE SO LONELY ( HARRY STYLES ). you know, the THIRTY year old LAWYER? people claim that they are just like BOBBY from COMPANY. it must be because they are CHARMING and NONCOMMITTAL as well… though i could be wrong. all i know for sure is that they live at CHICAGO apartment.⌝

              ❝ they always look like they’re keeping score

                                                                 who's winning , bobbie ? ❞

name: roberta sondheim. nicknames: bobbie, bob, bubbi, booboo. age: 30. date of birth: october 9th, 1989. hometown: new york city, ny. current location: london, england. apartment: chicago. occupation: divorce lawyer.

pinterest: xx. playlist: xx.

→ 𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪.

♡ roberta “ bobbie ” sondheim is the first and only child of george sondheim and eileen jones. they were born and raised in new york city , something that is clear the instant anyone meets them — they’re from new york, nothing really interests them. they grew up in a big, beautiful apartment in the upper east side with a lovely view of central park. bobbie’s childhood was uneventful — both their parents worked ( george was a lawyer, eileen a real estate agent ) , so bobbie was raised by several nannies who took care of them when their parents weren’t there — they keep in touch to this day.

♡ bobbie was a few months short of thirteen when their parents announced they were getting a divorce. it wasn’t exactly a surprised — everyone could see the marriage had gone stale. the divorce was mostly amicable — they got joint custody and split up the major holidays. george moved out their home and into an apartment that was just a few blocks away. bobbie’s teens were split in two.

♡ it wasn’t long before both of bobbie’s parents remarried. george fell for a partner at his law firm, katrina — eileen fell for raúl, a recent widower she was helping find a new place. both katrina and raúl had children from their past marriages ( katrina had to boys, both in college — raúl had two girls, ages two and four ). bobbie gained two step-parents and two sets of step-siblings. the’ve never been particularly close.

♡ before and after the divorce, bobbie lived a comfortable life. they weren’t spoiled, but they never wanted for nothing. they grew up with money — bobbie was always aware of their privilege — but they never abused it. they were happy with what they had, they were comfortable. they never demanded more than what they got.

♡ in school, they got along with pretty much everyone. they were popular, but never belonged to any clique — they simply floated between them, being friends with everyone, but never getting too close to any one person in particular. that aloofness got them a lot of attention from boys and girls alike. they dated around, but never really got serious with anyone ( a habit they’ve carried onto adulthood ).

♡ bobbie was a great student without having to put too much effort into it — they coasted through. when the time came to start applying for university, they realized they didn’t know what they wanted. they weren’t passionate about anything. they got good grades and enjoyed most subjects ( except for math ). they were in the debate team, they wrote for the school paper, they ran track. they played tennis, they played the piano, they’d even had a few lines in the school’s production of a midsummer night’s dream. still, there was not one thing bobbie could envision themself doing as a career.

♡ they knew they wanted to leave new york — despite how much they loved the city. living the rest of their life surrounded by their entire family wasn’t very appealing. they decided to move to london based solely on the fact that they’d visited once when they were sixteen on a class trip. this is one of the few solid decisions bobbie has made throughout their life.

♡ at the time, bobbie was dating a fellow classmate — dean wheeler. it was almost serious. they dated for most of their senior year, and even went to prom together. they promised to keep in touch after graduation, but that didn’t really happen. it was clear bobbie had lost interest, and they both just moved on.

♡ bobbie got an english degree while trying to figure out what they actually wanted to do. eventually they decided to study law — their father was a lawyer, so it just made sense. after graduating, they started working at a small law firm and made enough money to buy themselves a nice, comfortable apartment. nothing excessive. just comfortable. they’re pretty happy with where their life is at the moment.

→ 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪.

zodiac sign: libra. personality type: esfp — the entertainer. enneagram: type 9 — the peacemaker. temperament: sanguine. moral alignment: true neutral. primary vice: lust. primary virtue: charity. element: air.

♡ bobbie’s a charmer. they can make anyone fall in love with them within meeting them. they’re persuasive and almost always get whatever they want from other people. they’re a fantastic conversationalist, a great listener, and just being around them makes people feel good. they’re very social and can make friends with almost anyone.

♡ people fall in love with bobbie very easily. this is something bobbie isn’t always aware of. the sad thing is that isn’t not always reciprocated. they flirt with everyone ( sometimes without even realizing it ) , even when they’re not interested in pursuing anything.

♡ they can’t say no, so even when they’re not interested, if someone makes a move, they’ll go along with it. eventually the other person will notice and end it.

♡ when they are interested, they’re just not good at expressing it. they don’t know how to let their feelings known when things start to get serious. when it’s time for bobbie to become vulnerable and intimate, they grow distant. they never quite know how to end things, either. bobbie has a nasty habit of letting relationships grow stale and waiting for the other person to do the inevitable.

♡ their relationships often overlap, due to the fact that bobbie is incapable of being upfront with someone they no longer has romantic feelings for, and is also terrified of being alone.

♡ bobbie’s romantic life is a never ending cycle. they flirt with everyone, making them fall in love. they become disinterested, and instead of doing something about that, they wait for the other person to dump them. wash, rinse, repeat.

♡ secretly, they’re a hopeless romantic. they’re scared of intimacy, but they crave it. they yearn for that person who will make all their fears go away. they want to find that person they can be completely open and vulnerable — the problem is they never let things go that far. they get scared when things get too real.

♡ they act like they’re perfectly fine with the way their life is right now — and that’s the problem. everything is fine. just fine. they’re not unhappy, but they’re not completely happy either. they’re just okay. content. comfortable. the crave something more, but they’re too scared to take a risk and do something about it.

♡ romantic disasters aside, bobbie’s a great friend. if you’ve secured their friendship, they’ll never let you down. they’re always just a call away. they’ll make you laugh, they’ll be your wingperson, your babysitter, whatever you need, they’ll never say no.

→ 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤.

♡ FRIENDS: we’re starting out easy here, people. bobbie’s a very friendly person. they can befriend anyone, so this is incredibly open. they’re non-confrontational and a people pleaser, so they’ll get along with anyone. the circumstances of how they met can be entirely up to you.

♡ FRIENDS FROM NEW YORK: bobbie lived in nyc until they graduated high school in 2006. these friends probably wouldn’t be the closest, since bobbie was still pretty young when they left, but it would still be cool to have a couple of buddies from their high school days.

♡ FRIENDS FROM UNIVERSITY: bobbie studied in london from 2006 - 2013 ( approximately, i’m bad at math ) , so these are people they could have bonded with either while getting their english degree or in law school.

♡ FIRST FRIENDS IN LONDON: this could overlap with their friends from uni, since these are the friends bobbie bonded with they they first arrived in the uk and helped them settle in.

♡ FLINGS / FWB / HOOKUPS: this one is extremely open. bobbie flirts with everyone, so the possibilities are endless. your muse could have dated bobbie briefly, slept with them and never got a call back, they could be someone they sleep with casually, or anything else under the sun.

♡ EXES: bobbie’s dated a lot, but they rarely let things get serious ( maybe your muse thought things were getting serious, but those feelings were one-sided ). whether things ended on good or bad terms is totally up to you. bobbie avoids drama at all costs, so chances are they kind of ghosted your muse until they got the message.

♡ ALMOST-SERIOUS EX: this would be someone bobbie could see themselves getting serious with, but never took that step to make it official. they thought about it, but just never had the guts to tell the other person how they really felt. things eventually ended, as usual, and bobbie just moved on with their life.

♡ COLLEAGUES: bobbie’s a divorce lawyer, so your muse could be another lawyer that works at the same firm, someone who’s gone up against bobbie, or just another lawyer they bump into sometimes.

♡ NEIGHBORS: bobbie lives in the chicago building, so if your muse lives there and you wanna say they live right next door, hit me up !

♡ ❝ SOMEONE TO HOLD YOU TOO CLOSE ❞: it’s a cheesy name, i know, let’s move past that. bobbie clearly has commitment issues ( and intimacy issues, and many others that would take too long to list ). still, a part of them longs for that person they can truly be vulnerable with. they want love, they’re just too scared of the sacrifices that come with it. this person is someone who can finally break their shell and make them fall in love. this would obviously develop based on chemistry but i just wanted to throw it up here.

[travllingbunny]

The 100 rewatch: 1x02 Earth Skills

I’m a new fan of The 100, who first binged it last year, August to November. This is my first full rewatch of the show. I was planning to start it anyway and finish it before the season 6 premiere on April 30, and when I saw that Fox Serbia was airing a rerun (Monday to Friday, 40 min. after midnight, with repeats the next day), starting on 1st February, it was a great opportunity to start my rewatch in HDTV on my beautiful new TV. I decided to do write-ups and tag other fans on SpoilerTV website, as I did when I was first watching the show. But my posts turned into full blown essays. So, finally, after over a week, I’ve realized: Why don’t I post them on my Tumblr blog, too? I’ll copy my write-ups of the first 7 episodes, and then I’ll post my rewatch posts after I watch each episode. (The next one, 1x08, is on Monday’Tuesday.)

Spoilers below for all 5 seasons of the show. I go of on a tangents and make a lot of references to future events.

...........................

The first 2 episodes of season 1 are its weakest, just as I remember them. But initially I thought episode 1x02 was worse - I had mixed feelings about the Pilot, but then really disliked the second episode. This time, however, the Pilot was much worse than I remembered it, while this episode was... well, pretty much the same, but I enjoyed it more this time. Because, when I first watched the Pilot, I focused on all the new info on the show's premise, the setting, the universe, the SciFi stuff, and pretty much ignored all the cringey early teen soapy stuff (which I didn't even remember). But then the second episode came, and all the cringey teen soapy stuff in that episode just came right at me and annoyed the heck out of it. So this time, I already remembered it, so I could focus on other things.

BTW, I need to have good laugh at the often stated claim that The 100 doesn't focus on romance or do much romance or set up ships. The show does romance all the time. There are ships all over the place, but most of them pretty much suck, especially since most of them are poorly written insta-romances. And these early episodes are full of various romances and potential romances, and love triangles (which some people say the show has stopped doing... except it never did - *cough season 5 *cough* - but at least it scaled back on it a bit). 

Now don't misunderstand me - I don't mind that there's a lot of that, what I did mind is how badly all of that was written in these early episodes. Later, the show did lose most of its early CW-ness and start doing romantic plots better, in some cases at least. (But it also started doing them even worse, in some other cases.)

Rating: 4.5/10

First introduction of Raven, and she immediately shows that she's smart, capable and awesome. At this point, she seems almost perfect, but we know she was just initially meant to be a temporary supporting character and romantic obstacle for Finn/Clarke. We find out that she's the youngest zero G engineer in 52 years. She's also the first person to figure out that the Delinquents aren't dying, but simply taking their trackers off. How come this never crossed the minds of any of the Ark leaders? They came off a bit dumb here.

First meaningful interactions between Abby and Raven - the start of their friendship/pseudo-mother daughter relationship. Abby enlists Raven to fix an old escape pod so she(Abby) could get to the ground. Raven insists she will go, too, since she also has a loved one there. Multiple mentions of her boyfriend, and I can now see the big hints with the origami that Finn is that boyfriend. I missed that the first time, which is lucky, or I would have hated this episode even more, for trying to set up more than one annoying insta-love-triangle involving Finn and Clarke. I think this is the first time we get a mention of a year? But not the year when the show takes place. The escape pod is a 130 year old piece of junk that was found when they rescued MIR-3 in 2102. At least that gives us an idea of what century it is. ( The 100 wiki has a timeline and says the year is 2149, IIRC, but I don't know where that info is from.) I remember that Clarke, Abby and Raven were my favorite characters by far, followed by Monty, and pretty much the only characters I really liked (I was intrigued by Bellamy, and to a lesser extent Octavia, but I didn't exactly like them), since they were the only characters doing smart and good and pragmatic stuff and trying to save people. Then later, during season 1, Raven fell down a few places in my rankings, because I was so frustrated with her moping over Finn. Well, Wells was OK, but I didn't like some things they were doing with him here. One of the things I remembered best from this episode is that it clumsily tried to set up a Wells/Clarke/Finn love triangle, and that it made me roll my eyes so much. And for whatever reason, Bellamy was the one to talk about it to Wells and go on about how Clarke supposedly doesn't see Wells next to Finn, blah blah. Octavia isn't the only Blake with cringey dialogue anymore. Sorry, I'm gonna go on a mini-rant. Why was it necessary for the show to imply that Wells was in love with Clarke? You know how some people claim that the show is so into platonic male/female friendships (which somehow always is all about Clarke and Bellamy, because other male and female characters on the show aren't ever friends or something)? Yeah, right. Clarke and Wells were BFFs from childhood, grew up together - if you're looking for a "sibling-like" relationship between people on the show who are not related, that's the closest thing to it, but apparently, Wells couldn't have done all those sacrifices for Clarke if he wasn't in love with her. Right? But Clarke only sees him as a BFF, and he is so important to her... that the show had her mourn him for about 10 minutes in episode 4 after he was killed, and then never mention him again. If they ever actually wanted a great completely platonic, sibling-like close relationship between a man and a woman, that was a great opportunity. But they obviously didn't care. And speaking of people who grew up together and refer to each other as family, so they would therefore fit the idea of sibling-like relatively well (unlike Clarke and Bellamy, who didn't even know each other or interact with each other till they were 23 and almost 18, respectively)... well, there's also Finn and Raven. Who are also boyfriend and girlfriend. Kinda weird. I wonder when the writers decided to kill of Wells. I think it definitely was only after this episode, because this episode spends a lot of time building up Wells as a heroic character and setting up that love triangle that never goes anywhere, because Wells dies in 1x03. I think that, if the writers were at all planning an "endgame" (though I hate that word) love interest for Clarke, it was probably Wells at this point, because I don't think they were considering Bellamy that way at this point, and Finn, while clearly meant as the initial love interest, has False Romantic Lead written all over him. I sometimes wonder what the show would look like if they hadn't killed off Wells. I think Finn's "peacemaker" role in season 1b was probably planned for Wells. But I'm really relieved that we didn't get a love triangle that's all "Unlucky Childhood Friend/nice guy in unrequited love with a girl who is into another guy who is charming but kind of a jerk/cheater, until she finally realizes he's the one for her", because I hate that trope so much. Sorry, Finn lovers, if any of you are reading this - but Finn comes off even worse on rewatch than he did when I watched it the first time. He was always a guy who's just there and whose only interest seemed to be following Clarke around and flirting with her, but his time I'm noticing things like, even when he does good things, he only does them after he's realized Clarke would like him to do it, and tries to make himself look good and be the guy that she needs in her life. When I first watched this, I just had profound indifference towards him, which grew into active annoyance in this episode. And I didn't even realize at the time that he had a girlfriend on the Ark. Or that, after Clarke shamed him for not wanting to come and help rescue Jasper, he only changed his mind and came after Clarke had made Bellamy join the rescue party. My annoyance was initially mostly because of the scene where they are on the way to finding Jasper and saving him, and Finn decides to instead convince Clarke that she's wound up too tight and should just relax and they should splash each other with water. Which would be OK, if Jasper wasn't potentially dying. Priorities? And there was also his pop psychology where he tells Clarke that she is so desperate to save Jasper because she couldn't save her father, and we're obviously supposed to see it as super--meaningful. Is it just me that thinks that wanting to save people in general, and especially those you know, is a normal human reaction? Which is why Clarke was the character I immediately liked and related to. And also why this scene annoyed me so much. My feelings on it are exactly the same now, except maybe now I'm not sure that the show ever even meant for the Finn/Clarke pairing to be seen as an especially good one. Meanwhile, it seems that the show staff had realized between the Pilot and the second episode that Bob was super hot, so now Bellamy gets to be shirtless and with ruffled hair that looks much better on him, and is just friendly parting from some random Delinquent girl he's had sex with and who never appears again. I guess the casual sex (and later threesomes) were supposed to be a part of his 'bad boy' persona, since it pretty much stopped once the show started making him into a more heroic figure. Even though there's actually nothing wrong about single people having casual sex for pleasure, so it's not like that marks him as 'bad'. (The show, however, seemed less judgy about casual sex in later seasons, so I don't know.) However, he does a lot of other thing in this episode that are actually bad, like making the kids take off their wristbands so they'll have food, or acting dictator-like ("I will not be disobeyed") and over-protective of Octavia, including punishing Atom for making out with her. I didn't hate Bellamy early on as many did, but he frustrated me a lot, and was definitely at his most annoying in 1x02. However, I always had a lot of leeway for both him and Octavia, no matter how annoying they acted at this point, because of their backstory. And now I can even understand his over-protectiveness a bit better, knowing hat happened the last time he tried to let Octavia enjoy life. Much of the episode was about Octavia trying to find a guy to make out with, and specifically trying to make Atom (the guy Bellamy charged with protecting her). make out with her. She's being a huge brat at this point, but it's understandable - she was isolated, under the floor and locked up, all her life, and now she wants to be free and enjoy it. One interesting moment is when she told Atom: "Wall won't stop what's out there, we need weapons" - which is the first time she sounded like later Octavia. But her later love of fighting also makes sense for her character - fighting, especially with bare hands or cold weapons, is an energetic activity that produces an adrenaline rush, kind of like sex/making out. The scene where she chases butterflies in the woods and then makes out with Atom was one of the most visually beautiful. It looked very romantic, in the sense of enjoying life and nature. Not in the sense of actual romance, unless by 'romance' one means 'making out with a random person you met a day ago and barely know.' But to be fair, even Octavia's upcoming big OTP romance with Lincoln began with little more than physical attraction, and she knew him even less than Atom by the time they hooked up. The best interactions Ocfavia had in the episode were with Monty - the start of one of the better, underrated m/f genuinely platonic friendships on the show. This exchange was quite interesting: Monty: "Living under the floor all your life, it's amazing that you're not a complete basket case". Octavia: "Who says I'm not?" Monty was really cool in this episode - while Octavia was having some drama with Atom and some other guy, he was like "quiet, guys, I'm working" and was just calmly working on trying to make radio communications with the Ark possible. A bit more backstory on him and Jasper: they obviously have known each other for a long time, and Monty compares his relationship with Jasper to the Blakes, saying that Jasper may not actually be his brother but they are just as close. However, the Blakes aren't really like a regular sibling relationship, it's one of those sibling relationships (like Katniss/Prim in The Hunger Games) where the elder sibling had to grow up early and take care of the younger, so it's more like a parent/child relationship. Which is really one of the main problems of their relationship - Bellamy sees Octavia almost as his child and is extremely protective and sacrificial (the way we otherwise see parents act towards their children in The 100), and Octavia is constantly rebelling against him as kids rebel against authority. First significant interaction between Monty and Clarke, too. When Wells and Monty volunteer to save Jasper, Clarke tells Monty to stay behind because he's too important for the group's survival - he was raised on a Farm station, trained as an engineer. "food and communications. What's up here (*touches his head*) is going to save us all". (And how right she was!) That's some good, smart, pragmatic thinking - and she also managed to convince him without having to say that he also wouldn't be the most useful in a fight. I notice so many gender stereotypes in how the characters are written in these early episodes, more than the show usually has afterwards. Jasper and Monty were constantly talking about impressing girls in the Pilot, Jasper thought Finn had "game", and in this episode, we constantly have women shaming men into doing things by implying they would look weak or cowardly otherwise. Octavia tries to make Atom let her make out with guys/make out with her by saying he would be her brother's "bitch" otherwise (when did she learn to talk like that? I guess, during those two-three days on Earth?). Clarke tells Finn how disappointed she is that he refuses to join the rescue party, calling him a coward. (Though Monty shames Finn, too, saying "Jasper looked up to you". Which doesn't mean much, since the reason Jasper looked up to him is because he thought Finn was good at impressing girls.) And then Clarke makes Bellamy join the rescue party by implying he will look scared in front of the others/less brave than she is, otherwise (though that was more about Bellamy having to maintain authority in the group - which he needs for his own reasons), Then Bellamy enlists his sidekick Murphy to come, too. Murphy: "What are we doing? I didn't think we were in the rescuing business." Oh, you have no idea. The interactions between Bellamy and Clarke in this episode were quite interesting. I didn't ship them at this point, but I know now that some people already did, and I can see why. The scenes where they are into each other's faces and being antagonistic... well, this is the scene where Clarke says she will never take off the wristband, and Bellamy calls her "Brave princess" sarcastically (?):

What are you doing here, Bellamy? If he means to try to be snarky or antagonistic, he's not doing a good job, because "Brave princess" is not an insult, it sounds like he's impressed by her. (Which he probably is, though I'm not sure he's aware of it yet.) I'm sure he thinks she should hate her, because she is making things difficult for him and she's one of the privileged high class people from the Ark. That's what Bellamy means, at least at first, when he calls her "princess" - he's not using that nickname to flirt with her, like Finn. At least, I'm sure he does't mean to flirt. But... he kind of looks like he's flirting. I think, at this point, he's really, really confused.

And that's exactly the moment when Finn comes along, finally having decided to join the party, and says "Come up with your own nickname". Finn seems very possessive over... that nickname.

Later when they find Jasper, he gets all take-chargey and tells Wells to keep an eye on Bellamy, and Murphy to come help him take Jasper down from the tree. I can't help but think of another, far less successful and very unfortunate rescue mission, in season 2, where Murphy will also end up as Finn's reluctant sidekick.

I love the way that Bellamy acts like he's so ruthless (which he probably believes himself to be, much more than he actually is), when he tells Murphy he will take Clarke's wristband off even if he has to cut off her arm to do it...but then later, when she almost falls into the pit full of spikes, he instinctively grabs her arm and saves her life - and then has the look on his face "What did I just do? What am I doing? Why I am doing this?" He really is confused.

Early season 1 Bellamy is such a hot mess. Kind of like Clarke will end up being a hot mess in season 5, and similarly impulsive, emotionally damaged and preoccupied with just protecting their "child" while ignoring the big picture, while season 1 Clarke/season 5 Bellamy are acting pragmatically while trying to save everybody. They've really switched roles. And I expect season 6 Bellamy to help Clarke to get back to who she used to be, just as Clarke helped him find himself in season 1.

I love the song "Can't Pretend" by Tom Odell, which closes this episode. (I'll be seeing him in concert in a week.) But I didn't initially even notice it in the episode - I only paid attention to it when I saw some The 100 fanvideos with it. It's too emotional and the lyrics don't really fit either of the rather shallow romances (Finn/Clarke and Octavia/Atom) whose scenes it covers.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dUmtXzuSGu8

[katie-----luv]

ANSWERING QUESTIONS FROM THORAYA MARONESY

Can you describe someone you love?

He’s tall. He’s so dumb sometimes. Very very handsome. He makes my heart beat so hard that i feel like i’ll throw up if i stay around him. Even if I'm just thinking about him or have something of his, i feel absolutely crazy about him. I can't tell anyone who it is, but i want the whole freaking world to know how much i love this person because of how amazing he is. He wears his heart on his sleeve and gives up so much to make others comfortable and happy. He matches his clothes well haha and when he smiles, he makes me wanna stare forever. I could literally look at him all day. He asks me things that no one else cares about and he makes me feel so welcome. Even though I literally cannot be with him for so many reasons, he will always be the one that i will love more than anyone in the entire universe and i hate it but it is reassuring that I can love someone so much. He’ll never leave too. And the best thing about him is he gives the most amazing hugs. Long, amazing hugs. Middle of the night or 4 am, he always wants a hug from me. And no matter why or what happened, i will always want a hug from him. Because he just makes me feel everything. I love him so much that even if it's indescribable, i still try because it's worth it for him. Even if these words barely light the candles on the cake. 

What's the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?

I think my sister. We’re sisters, ya know, we hate each other one second, but the next, she is as amazing as she was before. I think she is the most beautiful because of how she deals with life. She always questions, she gets deep. She isn’t simple-minded at all, very talented in art. She is the smartest person I've ever known personally. And I love how free she is. In a sense where she doesn't want to be like everyone else. She deals with her own crap like everyone else but at the end of the day, she is still getting back up and laughing. And she is so weird too haha. She likes things like care bears and wants to move to a billion different places and do a billion different careers and marry an Australian man. Her goals and personality just crack me up.

Can you define love?

Love doesn't really have a definition in my opinion. If you really love someone, you’re left speechless, you don't have the words to define what you feel because of how overpowering it is.

Can you define hate?

Hate is a major pain that is..like it feels like someone put a blanket on your heart and took swings at it until whatever or whoever you hate walked away. It's a pain that makes you feel more angry at one thing than anything else i guess.

What's your biggest regret?

I have plenty but I guess the one that sums them all up would be ever lying. Lying is what gave me more regrets. If not lying then maybe falling in love. No one really thinks i have ever been in love but i was in love with someone and they were in love with a made up version of me pretty much. I miss them everyday and i lost them bc i lied. So yeah, goes with lying but i hate that i ever fell in love with them whether it was real them or just a lie too.

Kindest act?

When i was in 3rd or 4th grade, I had a bunch of money saved up, close to $200 from birthday money and other holiday money. I spent some. I didn't know what to do with the rest, so I gave it to my school counselor to give to the leukemia charity that they were funding for the month. When they announced on the announcement that i was the biggest donator, they got my name wrong and called me Kayle instead, but I didn't care because I knew I did something good. It was $97.

Wildest dream?

I’ve had some crazy ones so it's hard to choose or remember all of one.

Biggest fear?

I used to think it was being murdered or kidnapped or maybe even spiders. Now i know that it's of being hurt. I've been hurt by lots of people before and ive cried so many times alone but didn't wanna tell anyone and pushed it down. It ended up making me do some things that i shouldn't have because I didn't wanna think about being hurt and i feel like if i have to keep pushing things down, ill continue to be afraid to speak out and be sad for a long time again.

Best and worst quality?

That's kinda hard because i have a lot of both. I guess I'll just pick at random though because i can't chose. I have a quality that can be good and bad at the same time. It's that I'm forgiving, i don't know when to give up on people. It's good because I can give people chances which makes a good friendship bc i dont just drop them. But it's bad because sometimes i give the wrong people too many chances and get hurt over and over. But when i try to figure out when to let go and give up, i do it at the wrong time and make more issues. So it's complicated.

When have you felt the most alive?

If I'm choosing a whole time period, up until 4rd grade. A moment in the times I remember, when I dropped someone holding me back. I say up until 4rd grade because all times before then, I didn't care what people thought. I was never hurt like i have been since. I was a happy kid who played with littlest pet shop and had a billion besties. And i say when i dropped someone holding me back i mean that i was hung up on someone I thought loved me unconditionally and I loved them so much. He ended up not caring about me anymore which was understandable. But later on when I finally told him to go away because all he did was make me hurt, I stopped talking to him, and I was so so so SO free.

What's the best advice you’ve been given? 

You have to love people for who they are. My mom told me this. I don't like judging people or making people hurt or uncomfortable. But sometimes people have qualities that I just can't stand but they are some of my closest friends. So when my mom told me this, I felt like if i can't love them past these qualities, maybe i need to realize whether or not i love them really, because I can't change them to fit my needs or wants.

What's been your biggest obstacle?

Trying to get passed drama whether it was created by me for myself or drama with everyone. I made mistakes, I'm human, but it's been tough trying to learn from them. Now, I'm starting to see where I went wrong and moving past it to grow. 

Most embarrassing story?

I have a lot and I physically can't make myself type any bc they're so bad.

Your perfect life partner?

Someone who doesn't care when I'm being a bum. Someone who loves me and respects me. I'm not big on too much PDA. every once in a while, i'll kiss or hold someone's hand but usually, i feel embarrassed for whatever reason. So id like them to remember that and ask or hint first. I dunno.

What does beauty mean to you? 

Beauty means personality and looks to me. It doesn't mean hot or pretty. To me, beauty is how you describe someone that's indescribable.

Favorite memory?

Well i have a lot of memories that make me smile so much. But the one that I can think of off the top of my head is probably when I went up to Ohio where my cousins live around x-mas. The year before, my little cousin Silas passed away on New Years eve. We all went to this thing where they sang xmas music, had santa, and lit up some building. Me and all my cousins had our arms around each other and we were all singing together. It felt good that even though only a year before, we lost someone so young, we could all still smile and stay strong, together.

A moment that moved you?

I was at bob evans once with my mom and sister and a random old man paid for our meal and came to us saying he just wanted too. I never forgot that old man and that happened back when I was maybe 5 or 6 and i'm way now.

What would the title of your movie be?

hm...Self-inflicted because i self inflict too many issues for myself.

How have you changed?

I’ve learned so many lessons that I needed to learn.

What do you wish you said?

I wish i apologized about so much. I also wish I told my parents why I made so many mistakes. If i had done both of those things then I wouldn't have so many regrets because I would have had less drama and maybe some support or help.

Your last words?

I'm sorry i pushed it all down.

One thing you would change about yourself?

Maybe some of the things that go through my head. I can be really rude or sound super depressed. I would change how I handle that in my head.

Biggest pet peeve?

Matching and lint/hair on clothes. If you don't match or are covered in lint/hair, it makes me feel so anxious.

What's your purpose?

I think I may actually be too young to answer, but i'll tell you when i know.

Your one simple rule?

I think I have too many to answer that.

What are you looking forward to next?

Moving away. I have so many bad relationships with friends and ive lived in the same place for my entire life. I feel like i live in a box and i need to experience other places. I want to grow in life but is hard when i'm in the same place everything has happened. So moving will help me grow a lot.

What are you most proud of?

My academic achievements. I still suck at math but I'm hoping that I can fix that and maybe I'll really have all honors classes. As of now, I have almost all honors, just missing math.

What do you miss most in life?

Feeling happy for more than a short period of time. I'm not as sad as i used to be. But back when i was always depressed, i was the definition of pushing it all away around my family. I never told my parents and still haven't told them how sad I really always felt, only the jist, because of school and life. And now, i have better things that make me happy but at the end of the day, I always feel worthless and drained.

How would you like to be treated?

I would like to be treated like i'm as equal as everyone else. My close friends know that I haven't been in a good place for a while, i went through family drama because of me for a while and i'm starting to finally fix my mistakes but it's tough because they all treat me like i can't be told about their problems since it might make me worse i guess. And I think that's also why they treat me like the ‘leader’. Out of pity. It's been that way my whole life. Even as a little kid. And i hate it. I just wanted to be treated like i'm a friend not like what i need matters more than anyone else's needs because i have ‘issues’.

What do you want to let go of?

Everything that's been put in the past. I know it's been put there for a reason. Everything happens for a reason. I want to let go of the mistakes I made in the past because I opened my eyes and saw that that's what they are, mistakes. And even if it happened yesterday, i wanna let go, because it's time to move on if it's not happening.

What does the world need?

A big slap of sense. So many are oblivious to the issues we cause to the world and what issues are just happening to the world. While some things are serious, there are bigger problems than what celebrity slept with someone last night. Things such as suicicide and global warming are real and everyones too busy worrying about chris hemsworth’s abs and so and so’s herpes. I'm guilty of it too, but more and more I realize that there's serious things happening and no one is doing much. 

What makes you happy?

There's a few things but for some reason, my cousins makes me unbelievably happy. When I'm around them, they're not my cousins. They are the best best friends I could ever ask for. I have never loved anyone more than I love all of them. When i hear i get to see them, I'm on it! I hope for the words ‘we’re going to ohio’ every second. I absolutely love them to death, even the ones who are slower than turtles. If they were my siblings, I would want to be home daily with all of them. I cant even explain how much my heart screams to be around all of them and i have no idea why. They're all so amazing. And so are their parents and grandparents and all of them. When my family is with them, i see how much fun they have and it makes me even happier because my parents don't hangout with too many friends or close family. But with them, they talk and laugh as much as I do and I love seeing them so happy.

Have you ever had your heart broken?

OH YEAH! By friends, crushes, family. I guess if I chose one from each category, friends would be when one of my closest friends told my whole school that i had leukemia and i was getting treated. So many kids asked if I was okay and I was all, ‘what?’ when I found out, I confronted her and she lied about it. And when i didn't accept her apology, I did say some uncalled for things, but she made me feel like she could just throw away friendships left and right and she didn't care what happened. But when she lost all her friends, she cared, and she put us all on a bully form because we decided we didn't need a friend who would do something like that. And it was hard watching it happen because we’d been friends our whole life. For crushes, when I was in 5th grade, I was finally in class again with a life long crush. But he played me a bunch of times and bullied me along with his friends. That stuck with me, everything they said and did, but i only cried about it alone because I didn't think it was that serious that they bullied me. Now i see it was. For family..i think when my little cousin silas passed, I realized how serious death was because I was in 6th grade at the time, I understood it all completely. It broke me big time because id met him once and he was a sweet kid. While it brought our entire family together because of his funeral, I bawled the whole time because i felt like i could've done more to interact with him even though I never had the actual chance really. 

The hardest question I've asked?

Thats hard to answer. I think when I had to ask myself if I thought being alive was worth it. I never thought i'd be the person to have to ask myself so when i did, it hit me hard and I had to take it seriously. 

What's beautiful about you?

I think it's that i always want change and am almost always willing to change. Yeah, i'm a person so sometimes I don't want to change anything. But to me, change is so good and the fact that I'm always growing because I'm constantly needing change is beautiful because it makes me mature rather than be naive forever.

How did you find out Santa isn't real?

Oh haha. My sister. We had an elf on the shelf and her and I touched it to test if it would move still. It did. So i question if Santa was real because the elf wasn't. And i would hear people moving all the time when i went to bed x-mas eve. Yeah, i took it easily. But in the back of my head, i was always kinda salty that my sister ruined the fantasy for me. But better now than never.

How do you get through hard times?

I cry. I don't like talking about problems, I feel embarrassed and alone when I have them. So I write and I cry. Which is probably one of the worst ways to deal with it all, but music also helps and I think plenty use music to get through things.

When did you realize you weren't like everyone else?

When i realized how sad i always was. And maybe when i saw how i wasnt a super skinny kid. I'm not fat. But i'm not a stick like all these girls. And i noticed that. But yeah, when i started to feel more and more sad as I got older. And I saw how not too many others were like that.

Worst decision?

Lying because it only made life worse.

1 strange fact about me?

I have a weird birthmark where my leg starts to lead up to my underwear line on the left side. I hate wearing swimsuits like underwear because of it. It's dumb.

Most complicated question ive asked?

I honestly don't know about that one.

What do you look for in a man?

I look for a deeper part of them. I look for things like the nerdy vibes. I like nerdy or depressed guys. I don't like depressed dudes because they're depressed but because they’re the ones with the deep, interesting thoughts. And nerdy because i think dorky guys are adorable. But either way, I like when they listen and their understanding and sweet. I like when they talk a lot, but not more than me. When they make dumb jokes and do more than play video games, i like that. And when they have fashion sense. And shower.

What are you scared to share with people?

Probably what my mistakes actually are.

Earliest memory?

I have a few that I remember being super young but i don't know which one was the first one but one that I like a lot is when I was really young my mom would throw my sister and i big birthday parties and I had a close friend named Gavin Bush. he and I were close because his sister Emma was besties with my sister. But i remember at my birthday party, we were eating rice krispies together and laughing. He had a huge crush on me for the longest time and I always feel bad that I didn't notice much. But i mean, laughing with him was one of my favorite things to do back then. 

Most painful thing you've ever been told?

That i lost all trust. I lied too much and my parents told me that i lost any trust they had in me. But i try everyday to build it back up.

Kindest thing you’ve been told?

That i keep people happy, even when I'm going throw something myself. My friends have told me that even when they're mad or upset, I still make them laugh and while it pisses them off, they love that about me.

What are you ashamed of?

My body. I love some things about it and hate others. I hate my thighs and stretch marks but i remember that someone out there could care less and only cares for my mind and i feel better.

Worst thing you've done to please someone?

Lied about my whole life pretty much. Or said someone said one thing when they said the opposite to protect their feelings.