#and someone in the group naturally said ‘i like your shoelaces’

[isa-renee]

probably posted about this before but. just remembered the time i actually had a “thanks i stole them from the president” interaction and like wild that literally happened like i was there i witnessed that moment i was one of like three people who heard that and Understood

for context this was like in 2021 btw

[bestofbucky]

Eavesdrop

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: none really, enemies to ?

A/N: This is my first time posting something I have written. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much @tuiccim for your help, couldn’t have done it without you.

Being an Avenger is tough. Of course, there are the obvious missions and kicking ass that are exhausting, especially because you don’t have any sort of enhancements or powers. You are just a regular human being, fighting with and against some not so regular human beings. Naturally when you have downtime, you spend it doing things with the least amount of effort. Watching Netflix, listening to music, taking baths, etc, meaning that your social life outside of the compound was, to put it simply, non-existent.

You had just returned from the worst date of your life, well, one of the top five worst dates of your life. Over the past couple of months Steve and Natasha had grown tired of you whining about being single but not making any effort to change it and began sending you on blind dates. Somehow, they managed five different times to find five completely awful people. This time they had set you up with Arthur, a recruit for SHIELD and a good one at that. You wouldn’t be surprised to see him on the elite squad soon, but when it came to your date, he was really blunt and inappropriate, and you had cringed your way through the entire thing.

Once you got back to the compound, you first went to your room to get changed into gym clothes for training with Nat, then headed to her room. On your way you passed one of the common rooms and heard two voices. One familiar but one you didn’t recognise, you decided to check it out and found Steve and another man.

Steve called your name inviting you over to them as they both stood up. ‘This is Bucky. He’s moving in today to begin training.’ Steve explains. You nod and smile at Bucky, remembering Steve told you about him and that he would be living here and eventually joining the team.

You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud at the sight of him. He is a 6 ft something hunk of muscle and beauty and you can’t stop yourself from trying to take him all in with your eyes.

Steve then introduces you to Bucky who looks in your eyes for all of two seconds to say, ‘hi’ before looking down at his feet. He is probably really nervous. Even from that two second glance, you could tell he had one hell of a past. They had you hooked already, you wanted to stare into those eyes and let them tell you the stories of the lifetime they had seen.

‘You were just in Wakanda right? How was it? I have only ever seen it in pictures but I really want to go.’ You let your excitement show, hoping to relax him a bit.

‘Yeah, it was nice. I was frozen for most of it though’ Shit, he curses himself. He didn’t mean to come across so rude but he was really nervous, you are really pretty and it is messing with his head a little. It doesn’t help that he has had to meet a lot of different people today and he is all socialised out. He sees your face fall slightly before you quickly compose yourself, any normal person would have missed it but he has his past of being a trained assassin.

‘Well, Nat is probably waiting for me, she told me she would show me some new moves today.’ You say realising that Bucky had probably been under a lot of stress lately and most likely just wanted to be alone, or with Steve rather than chatting to you, a stranger. At least you hoped this was the reason and it wasn’t that he already disliked you. Saying goodbye to the two of them you head off to Natasha’s room.

Not even bothering to knock, you walk into her room leaving the door open behind you, since you’ll be heading down to the gym soon anyway. Natasha is sitting on the end of the bed braiding her hair. ‘You almost ready?’ You ask.

‘Yeah, just got to finish my hair then put my shoes on.’ She tells you so you take a seat on her bed while you wait.

Meanwhile, Bucky told Steve that he wanted to go get his room sorted. Really it was just an excuse to be alone for a little while. On the way there he walked past a room with the door open and heard two voices talking, recognising them to be you and Natasha. He was just about to carry on walking to his room when he heard Natasha ask, ‘did you meet him yet?’

Bucky assumed she was talking about him and wanted to hear what you had to say. He hoped you would be understanding of his reticence after his taxing morning. 

‘Yeah, I met him today.’ You sigh and roll your eyes.

‘That bad?’ Nat asks, raising her eyebrows with a slight smirk on her face.

‘Yes, I tried to be as friendly as I could but he seemed like a jerk.’ You huff.

‘How so?’

‘He was so blunt he just came across really rude. I had high expectations, especially after hearing Steve say so many nice things about him.’

‘Maybe he was just having a bad day?’ She attempts a defence. 

‘Bad day or not, he should have the courtesy to smile and be polite even if it is fake.’

Bucky was so hurt to hear this. Yes, he wasn’t the nicest to you but your reaction seemed a bit dramatic. He didn’t want to hear you say any more so he rushed off to his room.

‘So, I guess you aren’t going to go on a second date with him then?’ Nat asks.

‘No, I really appreciate you and Steve trying to set me up but seeing as this is the 5th time and none of them were any good, I think I’ll go back to my old methods.’ You smile at her.

‘What, never putting yourself out there and waiting for the right person to just fall into your lap?’ Nat teases and you both laugh when you nod. She finishes tying her shoelaces and you head off to the gym.

The next day you were leading a meeting of recruits who have the potential to be moved up into the squad that worked with the Avengers. The elite squad. Unfortunately for you, Arthur was in the group of recruits and was probably the next one to be promoted.  You finally dismissed everyone and started getting your stuff together to leave as well when Arthur came up to you.

‘What’s the word on who is moving up next, dove?’ You look up in shock, surely, he didn’t just call you dove.

‘Excuse me?’ You look him dead in the eye.

‘I said what’s the word on who is moving up next? I think you might need to get your hearing checked.’ He laughs at his own joke so you fake laugh with him.

‘That’s confidential., we’ll let everyone know when we have made the decision.’ You say and go to walk past him but he grabs your arm.

‘Does someone need a little convincing. If it’s you, then I can think of some ways.’ He whispers seductively in your ear. You pull your arm out of his grasp and frown at him.

‘I’m only joking, dove, come on, you can’t even take a joke?’ He laughs again.

You put on your best fake smile and your customer service voice. ‘There will be no convincing necessary. You are a good agent but you also have good competition. We will inform you all of our decision when it is made.’ You say and quickly turn and walk out the door before he can say anything else. When you get into the lift you ask FRIDAY where Steve is.

‘Common room A, Agent Y/L/N’. You make your way there as quick as possible. Heading around the corner, you slam into a solid object. You hiss at the contact on your fresh bruises, a frown appearing on your face. As soon as you look up to see what or who you bumped into, the frown quickly fades into a smile when you see its Bucky. He is already looking at you.

‘Sorry I should have been watching where I was going.’ He mumbles quickly.

‘No, it’s just as much my fault as yours. I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry.’ You apologise to him. As much as you would love to stay and chat  with  Bucky, you need to get to Steve to explain what just happened with Arthur and hopefully you can get him kicked off the team.

Bucky had left his room to try and find someone to help him figure out a few things with FRIDAY but as soon as he bumped into you that completely left his mind. You were all that filled his mind ever since he met you. He stood in the hallway for a while before realising he should ask you to help. Maybe this would be a good excuse to make up for his poor first impression. He heads in the direction you went but stops short when he hears your voice.

‘I think he bruised me. The dick.’ You say and Steve frowns at you ‘Come on, Steve. I’m  allowed to be angry. He has been nothing but a jerk to me,’ you explain and shift to get more comfortable.

‘What did you say to him when he did this?’ Steve asks, holding your arm and examining the newly formed bruises in the shapes of fingers.

‘I put on my best fake smile and pretended like everything was ok,’  You joke and Steve laughs, ‘as much as I hate the guy, I don’t have the confidence to actually show it.’ You sigh and Steve pulls your sleeve back down and leans back into the sofa. ‘Is there any way we can kick him off the team?’ You exaggerate batting your eyelashes at him.

‘He isn’t even on the team yet and you already want to kick him off?’ Steve questions.

‘Yes! I really don’t like him. I know he is your friend but I trust him about as far as I can throw him’ You explain and Steve nods.

Bucky had heard enough. He can’t believe you could be so horrible. You had the sweetest exterior and, from first impressions, you didn’t look like you could hurt a fly. But as he heard you say, you clearly put on a fake act to come across as polite and kind when really you are rude deep down. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. Twice now. But he is so glad he did, because now he knows not to waste his energy on you. He knows what you think of him and he has formed his opinion of you. He hurries back to his room.

‘He’s not my friend Y/N, I only said that to you to make you go on the date with an open mind. I’ve only ever had one conversation with the guy,’ Steve jokes and you playfully push his arm, ‘All jokes aside, his behaviour breaks a lot of conduct rules and is a good enough reason to have him knocked down a few squads.’ Steve replies and you sigh with relief. You hug Steve and thank him for his help, he’s taken slightly off guard but hugs you back before you go your separate ways.

 A few weeks later, you walk into the kitchen to find the whole team eating their breakfast. Sam is cooking and when he sees you, he makes a plate and hands it to you.

‘Thank you Sam.’ You hug him and take the plate, turning around at the sound of Bucky’s scoff. You haven’t had a conversation with Bucky since you bumped into each other in the hallway. You had tried to but he either completely ignored you or just rolled his eyes and left the room.

At first it hurt, you wondered if you had done something wrong. The team seemed just as confused by it as you. Bucky didn’t have a problem with anyone else. That wasn’t to say he was extremely friendly with them, he wasn’t there yet and nobody blamed him but he could hold conversation with the others. He even laughed at their jokes. You were starting to get fed up with it so after breakfast you headed to Bucky’s room to talk to him. You knocked on the door and it wasn’t long until he answered it. As soon as he saw you his face fell visibly.

‘Can we talk?’ You asked hoping he would let you into his room. He paused to consider it then stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him. He stood there with his arms crossed and waited for you to talk.

‘Is there something I did wrong?’ You ask him and he keeps a blank face.

‘Why do you care?’ He asks still arms crossed over his body.

‘I care because you are always scoffing or rolling your eyes at me whenever I try to talk to you.’

‘I’m not scoffing or rolling my eyes now.’ He points out.

‘No but you’re not exactly being very friendly.’

‘Would you prefer for me to fake it then? Just put on a smile and pretend to like you?’ He jabs. You take a moment to process what he just said. You didn’t realise he could be so mean.

‘No Bucky I would prefer for you to maybe make an effort to get to know me before making a judgement.’ You scowl at him.

‘I have a perfectly fine judgement of you. I am not going to fall for your fake smiles and fake friendships.’ Bucky snarls and walks back into his room closing his door in your face. You are left to stand there in shock.

On the other side of the door Bucky is leaning there conflicted. The shock on your face looked so genuine. No, he has to remember it is all an act with you.

From that day on you decided you weren’t going to make an effort with him. It wasn’t the most mature decision but you were tired. What used to be eye rolls and scoffs, now turned into snarky comments and you were no longer afraid to throw them right back at him.

Steve had tried a few times to talk to you about it but, when he couldn’t tell you why Bucky hated you, he realised there was nothing he could do to change how either of you felt about the other. What he could do was change up your schedules so the two of you were rarely ever in the same room together.

Unfortunately, instead of the arguments happening quite calmly but consistently over the course of the whole day. They were now much shorter, confined to just mealtimes, and much more heated and intense. None of the team knew which was worse.

You were sparring in the gym with Natasha trying to work off some steam from this morning’s argument with Bucky.

‘Your moves are sloppy, get whatever is making you emotional out of your head.’ She grunts at you but this only forces you further into your head.

You go hard at her, but she blocks every move so you go to defence. She smirks at you, ‘Has a certain super soldier got into your head?’

That causes a surge of anger to hit you and again you go hard at Natasha, but your anger only allows her to catch you off balance and you are pinned to the mat in a matter of seconds.

‘So it is Barnes.’ She  pulls you up and you brush yourself off before getting back into a fighting stance.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ You grunt at her and start your attack. Your moves are still predictable and anger clouds your mind. You feel yourself getting more and more worked up with every hit she blocks.

You retreat to take a breather, you hear the door open and you glance over, the man of the hour has just entered and you roll your eyes but continue to spar with Natasha.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him make his way over to you both, watching as you take a lot of hits from her and barely manage to land any of your own.

‘I have seen toddlers fight better than you Y/N.’ You hear him chuckle.

‘I don’t need your opinion.’ You grunt, still trying to keep your focus on Natasha.

‘Fight like that on the field and you’ll be dead in two seconds.’

‘Keep talking and you’ll wish you were dead.’

He laughs ‘Is that a threat?’ You ignore him and continue sparring. ‘Your punches are so weak, how did you become an Avenger again?’ He is still smiling knowing exactly which buttons to push.

You stop and make your way over to him. ‘I became an Avenger because of my talent and my strength, that I worked hard to earn.’ You are right up in his face, almost chest to chest. You are breathing hard, partly from the exercise but mostly because of how riled up you are. You notice he is breathing hard as well, his breath fanning across your face.

Your mind can’t help but drift, is this what he would look like in bed, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. Small beads of sweat gathered at his hairline from his recent run. You suddenly realise how close the two of you are and force the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. You hate how seeing him so riled up is actually a huge turn on. How could you let yourself be attracted to such an asshole?

‘You wouldn’t stand a chance against me.’ His voice drops so low that in a different circumstance you would have happily dropped your panties.

‘You’re right. I wouldn’t stand a chance against you and your metal arm that you were given. Or you and the super soldier serum that you were given.’ You know they are cheap shots but you just couldn’t help how absolutely fuming he makes you. He had managed to get under your skin and the thought of him being successful only made you angrier.

He leans down even more, your noses almost touching ‘I don’t know how everyone else can’t see through your little nice act. You pretend to be so kind on the outside but deep down you’re a bitch.’ Ouch. You deserved that one for what you said to him but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Especially because if you were hooked up to a lie detector and asked to say those things again, it would flash up as a blatant lie. However, looking into his eyes there was not an ounce of regret for what he said.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t have said what he did, but you had hit a nerve and it was the only thing he could think to say back. He saw the hurt flash across your eyes but it was too late to take it back now. The only thing he could do was exit the situation before it got any worse. He turned on his heels and left the room, leaving you standing there in complete shock at your exchange. 

Natasha calls your name but you quickly leave for your room before anyone can see you like this.

The team was split all across the base. This wasn’t how you would usually handle missions but as soon as you arrived the mission started to go sideways.

‘Target headed towards the west elevator. Anyone nearby copy?’ You hear Steve’s voice through comms.

‘I'm on it.’ You say back, your comms crackling more than usual.

‘Copy that.’ Bucky said, his comms crackling from the two of you talking at the same time.

The rest of the team had heard both of your voices but neither of you had heard the other. So it was a big shock when you were waiting for the elevator and you heard his voice behind you.

‘You have got to be kidding me.’ He sighs and slowly walks up to you to wait for the elevator as well. ‘Did you not hear me say I got it?’ He snaps at you.

‘No because I was the one that said I’m on it.’ You snap back and thankfully the elevator dings it’s arrival. Normally in creepy Hydra bases you would avoid elevators but seeing as there was no stairwell nearby, this was the only option.

‘Age before beauty.’ You say to him, gesturing to the elevator.

‘Very funny’ he says sarcastically before stepping inside. You follow after him and press the only floor button available.

Silence permeates the small space as you prepare for what’s to happen once the doors open. Instead, the elevator jerks to a stop.

‘No.’ You panic and start pressing the floor button over and over. ‘No no no no no.’ Nothing is working.

‘Let me try.’ Bucky says pushing you out of the way, you so badly want to say something but the only thing you can focus on is the fact you might be trapped. Bucky taps the button and looks around for anything else to press but there is nothing. You can feel yourself start to get light headed as claustrophobia takes hold and the thought of falling to your death in this metal box takes over your thoughts. You shrink down onto the floor and hold your head in your hands.

‘Do you always have to be so dramatic?’ Bucky huffs. You don’t answer him, the only thing you can think about is the pain starting in your chest and your breathing getting heavier. 

‘Stop breathing so fast. You are going to make yourself pass out.’ Bucky grunts but when you don’t reply or make any effort to slow your breathing he gets worried. He kneels down in front of you ‘Hey? Doll? Can you hear me?’ You can’t answer him, you just feel the impending doom and the immense pressure on your chest. ‘I’m going to move your hands.’ He announces then you feel him take your hands and pull them away from your face. You look at him, tears in your eyes, a look of pure fear across your face. ‘Breathe with me, doll. Can you do that?’ He asks and you manage to nod. He speeds his breathing up to your pace then gradually slows it, you follow him as best as you can and eventually you get your breathing back to normal, with the occasional hiccup or sharp intake.

Once he sees you are ok, he lets go of your hands and sits on the floor as far away as he can. You both continue to sit in silence.

‘Thank you.’ You eventually manage to whisper, he nods without meeting your eye.

You can’t help but feel disappointed, you just got to see a caring side of Bucky and it felt amazing to be on the receiving end of it, but now you are back to him not giving a shit about you. You go back and forth wondering whether it is the right time to bring up the issues between you two. If not now, when?

‘Why do you hate me so much?’ He looks across at you and sighs before he answers.

‘I don’t hate you.’

‘Yes you do. It seems like you go out of your way to make me miserable.’ You push, making him lean his head back on the wall behind him.

‘I don’t hate you. I just don’t like how you formed opinions about me so early on. You wanted me off the team before I even got cleared to be on the team.’ Bucky explains. You stare at him in confusion.

‘How do you know what opinions I formed of you? I may have wanted you off the team but it was only because you were mean and that was after you were cleared.’ You could feel yourself starting to get angry.

‘Then how come I overheard you talking about the first time we met to Nat, you said I was blunt and rude. Then after I accidentally bumped into you, you told Steve you wanted me off the team.’ Bucky says agitatedly.

‘I never-‘ you think back to any conversations you had with Nat and Steve about Bucky. The only ones that came to mind were asking them if they knew why Bucky didn’t like you. Then it hits you, he had overheard you talking to Steve and Nat about Arthur. You sighed.

‘Let me guess, you overheard me and Nat talking not long after we first met. We were in Nat’s room getting ready to go train?’ You ask and he nods.

‘Then the conversation you overheard with Steve was straight after we bumped into each other. We were in the common room?’ Bucky looks confused but nods again.

‘You are such a prick. You eavesdrop but don’t even listen long enough to hear who we were talking about.’ You can’t help but chuckle at the situation, even though it’s not particularly funny.

‘What?’ Bucky looks more confused than ever.

‘Well, if you had listened properly to the whole conversation you would know I was talking about that asshat agent, Arthur.’ That came out more blunt than you intended.

‘The recruit that got bumped down a few squads even though he is really good?’

‘Yep. That’s the one’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Before you came Steve and Nat had been setting me up on blind dates with people. Arthur was the fifth one, I really didn’t want to go so Steve convinced me by saying they were friends and all this nice stuff about him.’ You pause to take a deep breath. ‘The day we met, I had just come from the date with him and it was awful. That's what me and Nat were talking about. Then when we bumped into each other in the hallway, I had just come from a meeting with the recruits. Arthur had been inappropriate and he hurt my arm, I was rushing to Steve to tell him and ask if he can be kicked off the team.’ You finally manage to say and Bucky just looks at you. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he is finally getting context to the snippets of conversation he overheard.

‘Shit. I am so sorry. I am such an idiot.’ He scolds himself and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

‘I am not going to disagree with you, but we have both said and done some pretty nasty stuff. I am sorry for any hurt I caused you.’  You say sincerely and he looks over to you and smiles.

‘So you didn’t think I was rude when we first met?’ He still holds your eye contact and you take a moment to look at him. You have never seen him look so vulnerable before, he almost looked scared.

‘No, Bucky, I thought you were probably nervous or tired from meeting loads of new people.’ You explain and his shoulders fall.

‘I feel like such a jerk.’ He sighs and you scoot yourself closer to him so he has to look at you.

‘I’m not all that innocent in this either. It was a misunderstanding. I am just glad we have cleared it up now.’ You say meaning it and he smiles earnestly back at you. It is something you have never experienced first-hand. You have seen him give those gorgeous, slightly lopsided, smiles to other people but seeing one directed at you causes a rush of heat to your cheeks and you find yourself blushing.

Bucky must have been thinking along the same lines ‘You’re cute when you blush. I have never seen this side of you before.’ He brushes some hair out of your face and behind your ear. ‘You know, part of the reason I was so nervous when I first met you was because I was taken off guard by how beautiful you are.’ His cheeks flush slightly at his confession.

Before you can say anything the elevator jerks again and starts moving, you and Bucky are quick on your feet, preparing yourself for the doors to open.

When they finally do you are met with a group of Hydra agents ready to attack. You and Bucky work in tandem, playing off each other’s strengths. When the Hydra agents realize this, they work to separate you. The majority of them are on Bucky but you are fighting four at once. You are onto the last one when he raises his gun to shoot but you force his arm down. Not quick enough, it fires and clips your calf causing you to cry out from the pain 

It is not as bad as actually being shot in the leg but it still hurts like hell and you can’t put pressure on it. The room is pretty silent apart from footsteps you recognise to be Bucky approaching. You move quickly and uppercut the guy in the nose. The crack echoes throughout the room as the guy falls to the floor at your feet.

You turn to Bucky, his mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock. ‘That was hot.’ He announces finally, making you laugh, you go to take a step towards him but realise too late that your injured leg won’t hold your weight. You would have fallen to the floor if Bucky hadn’t rushed to catch you.

‘Thanks.’ You chuckle, your faces are extremely close. Your eyes completely entranced in his. Your whole body warms at the safe feeling of being in his arms. You start to wonder what it would be like to fall asleep in these arms, to wake up the next morning still wrapped up in them. Protected.

You force yourself back to reality by clearing your throat. ‘We should probably get back to the team.’ You say and he nods. He puts his arm around your waist and you put yours over his shoulders to use him as a crutch.

The ride back up in the elevator goes smoothly this time and before you know it you are hobbling up to the quinjet where the rest of the team awaits. Natasha and Steve are both looking back and forth from you to Bucky in confusion.

‘What the hell happened?’ Steve asks not trying to hide how baffled he is that you and Bucky are holding onto each other and not arguing. Natasha simply smirks. Bucky helps you into a seat then sits opposite you with a wink as you smile at him.

‘No, this is too weird. Please argue, bicker, roll your eyes. Anything.’ Sam begs Bucky who doesn’t break his eye contact with you. Bucky simply laughs knowing his behaviour is unsettling Sam and enjoying the newfound comradery with you.

[dweetwise]

i can’t stop writing them, send help. this was based on an idea from @gooobert, hope i could do it justice! ship: ace x felix word count: 1330

More than a thousand words

Meg was sitting by the campfire and busying herself with changing the shoelaces of her sneakers. The new ones were a different color and only marginally cleaner, and the whole thing was mostly a pointless attempt at any sort of change. It was kind of pathetic that the eyesore of the once-blue laces clashing with Meg’s red running shoes was the most interesting thing she'd seen in weeks.

The Entity's world was a lot of things. It was Meg's worst nightmare, a living hell, a home of unspeakable horrors that drained every last bit of hope from her piece by piece—

But in between those moments, it was indescribably boring.

Had anyone told Meg five years ago that she'd get used to being brutally murdered on a regular basis, she wouldn't have hesitated to give them a piece of her mind and maybe even her fist. But disturbing as it may be, after all this time it had become the new normal. The trials weren’t pleasant but at least they were something to keep her mind occupied and her reflexes sharp.

Between trials she was stuck at the campfire, which offered nothing in the way of entertainment save for Kate's guitar, Ace's playing cards and Bill's perpetually half-empty pack of cigarettes. Meg’s companions were both a blessing and a curse; some of them she was happy to call her friends and others she'd rather avoid. She had never been much of a people person and while it was nice to have the option to talk to someone if she wanted to, more often than not she just wanted to shove a sock in people's mouths when they just wouldn't shut up.

Hearing a familiar laugh, Meg's nose scrunched on instinct as she looked up to see one of those very people walk up to the fire. Ace sauntered up to a small group tending to the flames, earning a few words from Jeff and a smile from Kate, all the while running his mouth at a way louder volume than necessary.

Then, Ace proceeded to walk up to Felix.

Meg hadn't even noticed Felix return from his latest trial. She didn't know the man very well but he was one of the few who rarely got on her nerves, pulling his weight in trials and staying blissfully quiet at camp. She'd even go as far as to say she kind of liked the guy.

Of course, that respect flew out the window every time Felix spent time with Ace.

"Hiya, Pumpkin!" Ace chirped obnoxiously to the architect, effectively proving Meg's point. "Whatcha doing?"

Ace sat down next to Felix and Meg glared daggers at the gambler's smug face. So much for the blissful silence of the campfire.

"Ah, neat," Ace suddenly continued. "That looks like fun!"

Meg frowned; she hadn't even heard Felix say anything. Why was Ace talking to himself?

"How are you holding up after what happened back there?" Ace asked.

Felix still didn't reply, but this time Meg saw him give a pointed stare to Ace.

"I was going to heal myself so I could go for the rescue!” Ace protested. “That’s why I was in the basement, looking for a medkit—”

Felix huffed out a pointed breath.

"Or a map!" Ace continued. "I know you like to bring one into trials, and I thought it'd make a nice gift!"

Felix only raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, alright!" Ace relented, holding his hands up in surrender. "I was looking for a key so we could bail through the hatch once Yui and David died."

"Hmm," Felix replied.

It was a quiet sound that—combined with Felix's resting bitch face—gave absolutely nothing away.

"You're not mad, right babe?" Ace asked, casting a sickly-sweet pleading look at the German.

Again, Felix neither did or said anything, but soon Ace was breaking into a relieved laugh anyway.

"I knew you had a soft spot for me," Ace grinned.

“M-hm,” Felix commented.

“I know, I know—don’t make a habit of it,” Ace said.

The more Meg listened to the one-sided conversation, the more confused she got. There was no way Ace was able to decipher any of Felix’s weird sounds or barely-there facial expressions. It had to be some kind of joke.

She glanced around the campsite, but nobody else seemed to be paying the duo any attention. Jane was sitting on the log next to Meg’s, so she scooted over to the woman and leaned closer.

“Are you seeing this shit?” Meg whispered, getting Jane’s attention.

“What?”

“Those two!” Meg said, pointing to the offending pair.

“You think the Entity will throw another party for us before Halloween?” Ace asked Felix, still running his mouth and oblivious to Meg’s staring.

Felix hummed again; in agreement or in thought was anybody’s guess.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ace concluded despite this. “She’s gotten lazy. Wouldn’t surprise me if she even forgot Christmas this year.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Jane said.

“Really?” Meg asked. “You don’t see anything wrong with…”

Felix huffed, and Ace gasped in mock offense.

“Excuse you, my Christmas sweater is fabulous,” Ace said.

Felix’s mouth quirked up in a smirk.

“That was one time, and I only borrowed yours because it looked comfy!” Ace protested.

“...That?” Meg asked Jane, gesturing in the couple’s general direction.

“Not really,” Jane said, infuriatingly unbothered by the display. “I know Felix’s family situation isn’t ideal, but as long as they’re happy, I don’t think it’s our place to judge.”

Wait… what?

“Huh?” Meg asked.

“I can’t really fault someone for finding joy in a place like this,” Jane said. “I know Ace sometimes gets on all our nerves, but Felix seems happy with him.”

What the hell was she—oh. Oh.

“Oh god no,” Meg said with a grimace. “I don’t care that they’re together or—whatever.”

Jane looked at her, frowning in confusion.

“I’m just weirded out that Ace is always just, like, talking to himself,” Meg explained. “Felix barely gets a word in.”

“Ah, I see! My bad,” Jane apologized. “Still, I don’t really see anything weird in it; Felix is a quiet person and Ace is good at reading people. I think it’s natural they communicate in their own ways.”

“You’re shitting me,” Meg deadpanned. “You really think Ace understands all those weird ‘aah’s and ‘hmm’s?”

“Body language is easier to read than you’d think,” Jane said. “Take Jake for example; he doesn’t talk a lot, but you always know what he means, right?”

“Yeah, because Jake only has two moods; ‘I’m listening’ and ‘fuck off’!” Meg protested. “It’s not like he’s telling his goddamn life story in that death glare.”

“Maybe you’re not listening,” Jane said, giving her a cryptic smile. “Either way, I think it’s sweet when people know each other well enough to not need words.”

“—I’m serious! You should have seen the look on his face!” Ace exclaimed to his companion way louder than necessary.

“...Though maybe I’d like it more if the roles were reversed,” Jane sighed, rubbing her ear.

“I hear you,” Meg snorted.

She looked back at Ace and Felix, who were still engrossed in their weird conversation. Felix had leaned closer to his boyfriend, listening raptly and offering acknowledging sounds every now and then as Ace recounted one of his trials. For some reason, the German seemed to enjoy Ace’s incessant babbling, and who was Meg to stop him?

She watched as Felix reached over and grabbed Ace’s hand, making the gambler pause mid-sentence. Slowly, Ace’s shit-eating grin changed into a soft smile.

He clasped Felix’s hand and lifted it to his mouth, giving the knuckles a quick kiss and in response, Felix lowered his head and returned the smile.

"I love you too," Ace murmured.

Meg rolled her eyes and grabbed another pair of sneakers to continue her project. She’d never understand those two, but maybe that was for the better.

And maybe she should give Jake’s death glare another shot.

[shutupanakin]

Wasting Your Time ch. 5

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

first chapter here and crossposted here

Tommy had made sure he had tied his shoelaces, this time.

Tommy had the time to make sure that his shoelaces were tied, because he wasn’t in a rush to get to the station compared to last week. The thought caused ghost pains to flare up in his knee, but he knew it had stopped aching days ago. The scrapes in his hands faded with them.

Not quick enough though, because Sam had noticed. He only noticed when no was pulling at the thread in his jacket, trying to explain why he wanted to change his major.

“ I— I don’t think I like architecture,” Tommy admitted, his voice tight.

Sam was tired; Tommy could see it in the way his eyes drooped. Tommy felt bad, keeping him up. Sam needed his rest. He had an early shift i. This could wait, Tommy decided. He wouldn’t bother Sam with his nonsense, not tonight. That wasn’t fair of Tommy.

“Sor—sorry,” Tommy said, pushing his chair back. “You can go to bed, I’ll—”

Tommy nearly jumped out of his skin at Sam grabbing his wrist, quickly letting go at Tommy’s nervous yelp“Sorry,” Sam quickly apologized. Tommy avoided his eyes. “What happened to your hands?”

Tommy's eyes fell down to his palms— he didn’t think Sam would have noticed. “I fell,” Tommy mumbled, sitting back in his seat at the unsteady kitchen table.

“You don’t like architecture?” Sam asked, Tommy nodding vigorously. Not liking it was a severe understatement. Tommy would say that he was miserable— miserable enough to go to the tube station once a week in the middle of the night to talk with a man he would argue knew more about him than Sam.

Tommy wouldn’t tell him that though. He wouldn't tell him about Wilbur.

“I want— I want to change it,” Tommy said finally. “we don’t have to right now of course,” Tommy added. “I don’t want to stress you out or, or—”

“Tommy,” Sam stopped him. His voice was incredibly soft. “It’s fine.”

Tommy was now in the process of switching from architecture to film and production; if Sam didn’t like it, he didn’t show it. He was the utmost supportive, frustratingly so to Tommy. Tommy had expected to be yelled at, to be told off.

He almost wanted to be told off, because that would mean that he was right, and he would have felt less guilty for waiting this long and to assume Sam would pressure him into continuing something he had no passion for.

The robotic voice of the intercom snapped Tommy out of his mind, announcing the incoming train. He wasn’t alone on the platform this time. There was a woman who stood several meters away. Tommy had politely nodded at her when he arrived. She nodded in response.

When it arrived, the metallic doors slid open, and Tommy booked it to the back. There was no one, no man sitting back here this time. Just Tommy, and eventually Wilbur. The woman sat in the middle, the back of her head facing him.

Tommy scrolled through his phone— he wanted to check if Tubbo or Ranboo had texted him yet. They had stopped asking him to get on-call during the night on Tuesday, used to being turned down. Only Tubbo had asked him what he had gotten up to when Tommy was going to see Wilbur. Tommy, fortunately, did not have to come up with an excuse because Ranboo scolded him for prying.

Tommy allowed himself to wonder if Wilbur’s friends had wondered what he was doing; though that burned out because from the way the man talked it didn’t sound like he had any friends.

He had a brother, Tommy knew that. He had some sort of past with Jack, which got him banned from his shop. Tommy recalled him briefly describing a sweater buddy and his gambling buddy, but it didn’t sound like either of them were in his life.

Tommy was pretty sure he hadn’t even given him their names. That was… startling, Tommy realized. Just how little Tommy actually knew about Wilbur. It was even more startling that Tommy wasn’t sure if he wanted to know more, either. Wilbur existed out of their friendship, out of the hours in the past month they had spent together— the image was difficult to imagine.

But that was ridiculous because Wilbur existed and he had a life outside of Tommy; it was selfish to think otherwise.

“You are thinking too hard,” Like a knife through butter, Wilbur’s voice cut through Tommy’s thoughts. Tommy’s head shot up, pocketing his phone. Tommy scooted over a bit so Wilbur would have more room.

They had stopped. With a quick scan, Tommy can guess that Wilbur got on alone. The woman was still there. “How could you tell?”

Wilbur pointed at his forehead. “I can see a vein.” Tommy scoffed, slapping the man’s hand away as Wilbur laughed. “How did it go with Sam?” Wilbur asked in between giggles.

“Got a new major!” Tommy beamed, his smile wide. “Bye-bye architect. Sam took it better than expected.”

“That is good!” Wilbur celebrated. “Do you know when you start your new classes?”

“No,” Tommy shook his head. “We are still in the process of switching. It’s dropped now though.”

Wilbur frowned, his eyebrows turning down in thought. “Why did it look like you were about to pop a vein then?”

Oh , Tommy thinks. He could lie— Wilbur would catch it. Wilbur would know. Wilbur would push.

“I was thinking about you, honestly,” Tommy confessed.

They stopped. A trio of young adults got on.

“Oh,”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Tommy sighed. “I was just thinking—”

“I could tell.” Wilbur hummed.

“Fuck off— I was just thinking…” Tommy trailed. “I hardly know anything about you, yeah? You know my friend’s names and about Sam and what I’m studying in college and I…” Tommy stopped, realizing that he was rambling. “Sorry.” “You should stop doing that,” Wilbur said, Tommy furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Stop what?”

“Apologizing. You do it a lot. You do not owe everyone an apology for speaking, Tommy.” Wilbur explained.

Tommy was slack-jawed. He wouldn’t say that he had a problem . “It’s courtesy.”

“Nothing about you is courteous.”

“You are avoiding telling me about yourself, Wilbur. You can’t get out of this by trying to psychoanalyze me.” Tommy huffed. “No, no! I’m dancing through your mind games this time, big dubs. I’m going to be the one doing the mind gaming.”

“The mind gaming?”

Tommy nodded. “You are going to be so mind gamed.”

“Okay,” Wilbur laughed. “Mind game me.”

“What’s your brother's name?”

“Techno,” Wilbur answered simply.

Tommy scoffed. “There is no way that’s his name. What’s his real name?”

“Technoblade.”

“That’s even worse.” Tommy groaned. Wilbur was bullshitting him. He had to be. “You’re lying to me.”

“I would not lie to you,” Wilbur stated. Tommy’s lips turned down in a frown.

“You wouldn’t?” “Never.” They stopped. The woman got off.

“What’s he like?” Wilbur was silent, his forehead creasing. “A real nerd. He is really deep into mythology, and that type of stuff. I played guitar, he did violin. I tried to get into parties, Techno was worried about his fucking— fencing finals.” Wilbur gestures.

“He sounds cool,” Tommy said. Wilbur made a noise that sounded of exasperation.

“He is a hardass.”

A shocked laugh escaped Tommy’s mouth, dissolving into a fake cover-up cough. “Is it because his name is Technoblade?” Tommy wasn’t looking at Wilbur, but he could feel the man’s eyes roll. “Are you not going to let that go?” “Ah big man, I’m never letting that go. You’re related to someone called Technoblade.” Tommy teased, knowing that he was pushing it, leering at him. He knew Wilbur could snap at him in annoyance and shut down his next question— Tommy had faith that he wouldn’t though.

“He is my twin actually.”

Tommy choked. “There’s more than one of you?”

“No, no,” Wilbur interjected. “There is just one of me, I am afraid.”

“Unfortunately.” Tommy agreed, mockery lacing his voice. “Do you like him?”

“Course?” Wilbur creased his brows. “Just because we are different does not mean we do not love each other.”

They stopped. The group got off— two men took their place.

Tommy thought of Sam, and quickly shut that thought out. He slammed the door and swallowed the key; this wasn’t about Tommy, this wasn’t about Sam.

“And he likes you?”

“He does.” Wilbur mused. “I think the word you are looking for is love , Tommy.”

Tommy groaned in disgust. “Don’t say it.” He whined.

“ Love, love, love —” Wilbur taunted in a sing-song voice that made Tommy want to get off at the next stop.

“Stop— stop that!” Tommy hissed. “And you call me a child!” Wilbur made an amused sound. “You are a child.” “Why do you talk like that?” Tommy pressed, now agitated.

“Like what?” Wilbur’s eyes blew open.

“Like— that. You are . Say you’re.”

Wilburs face grew into a cheeky grin, and Tommy wanted to punch him. “ You’re a child.

“I...I— and you’re a fucking old man!”

“I am twenty-four!” Wilbur cried.

“That’s ancient,” Tommy replied. “that’s at least two decades.”

“Two decades—” Wilbur repeated, breaking off into a laugh. The train stopped and Wilbur got up, still shaking with laughter. “It wasn’t that funny,” Tommy commented, trailing the man out of the sliding metal doors.

“I thought it was hilarious.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Absolutely not,” Wilbur denied. “You should do standup.”

They passed a woman on the stairs on their way out; Tommy ignoring the disgusted look she passed in his direction.

“Do people just naturally dislike you?” Tommy asked, his mind drifting back to the faceless strangers that had the misfortune of sharing the tube with Tommy and Wilbur. “I think they are looking at you,” Wilbur speculated.

“Wha... ? ” Tommy trailed. “ Pft , nah. People love me. Especially women you know.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

Tommy blew air out of his nose in frustration. They were approaching the flickering Jack of All Trades sign. “I’m going to prove you wrong— so wrong. You’re gonna beg for my forgiveness when you see all the numbers I’m drowning in.”

Wilbur looked at the flickering sign. The A in Jack had gone completely out. “I hope you understand that Manifold doesn’t count.”

Tommy didn’t dignify Wilbur with a response, entering the shop instead. The bell dinged over his head.

Tommy blinked.

There was a woman at the counter.

Why does this keep happening to him?

Tommy knew that realistically, he couldn’t be Jack’s only customer. That’s not how you keep a business open; Tommy understood that. Tommy was just— Tommy had gone in here every Tuesday night, between eleven pm and twelve am, and it was empty besides himself and Jack.

“Heya Tommy!” Jack peaked over the woman, waving him over. “I was just wonderin’ when you’d show up. Telling Niki about ya.”

Oh, so this was just Jack’s friend. Thank god. Tommy couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Jack was waiting for him. “I thought you had another customer. Was worried I had competition.” Tommy reached into the bowl, scanning the pins.

Jack looked at the pink-haired woman, who had been dubbed Niki. “He’s joking. I get plenty of customers.”

“I believe you, Jack.” Tommy caught her eyes, pulling out a pin with a music disc printed on it. The upturn of the corner of her mouth and her little head shake told Tommy otherwise

“I don’t,” Tommy deadpanned, placing the pin and the pounds on the counter. “Me and my pins keep this place alive, you know.”

“That is entirely untruthful.”

Tommy hummed. “You’re in denial. It’s the first stage of grief. It’s okay, Jack. We’re here for you.” Tommy looked at Niki. “Well, she is. I got a train to catch and a friend to annoy. See you next week!”

“Nice meeting you Tommy!” Niki said, Tommy giving her a small wave before exiting the shop.

Tommy immediately showed Wilbur the pin. “A vinyl,” Wilbur said with a hint of amusement.

Tommy scowled. “Music disc.”

“It is a vinyl.”

“Wrong, actually,” Tommy corrected, securing the pin into his jacket. “it’s a music disc.”

“It appears we are at a standoff,” Wilbur fiddled with his glasses, starting the walk back to the station.

“No, you are in a standoff with yourself. I am right.” Tommy insisted.

“You are definitely in a mood tonight,” Wilbur pointed, and Wilbur’s tone was light and joking and of course he didn’t mean anything bad by it but— the comment made Tommy’s feet stick to the ground. Was he?

Wilbur must’ve realized he wasn’t being followed, because moments later he turned to see Tommy’s state of immobility.

“That isn’t a bad thing,” Wilbur was quick to comfort.

Although his expression and voice were genuine, Tommy still faltered. Whatever faux confidence he had gained was gone now. The persona was gone, leaving just… him . He thought Wilbur was enjoying the bit. “I… I could stop if it’s annoying?”

Wilbur’s expression was soft. “Do not worry about it.” He said. “You having fun is not annoying,” Wilbur reassured. Tommy didn’t reply. He forced his feet to move instead, so he could keep up with Wilbur. “I am sorry,” Wilbur added.

Tommy allowed himself to slip back in. He was fine. “Looks like you’re the one apologizing now, big man.”

“Oh man, you got me there.”

“A straight-up hypocrite you are.” Tommy chimed. “Are you above your own morals, Wilbur?”

“I am, just a bit.”

“Elaborate on that?” “No, I do not think I will.”

“Fuck you.”

When they reached the station, Tommy realized they had narrowly avoided missing the train. Tommy let out several curses as the metal doors nearly shut on him. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world if they had missed it; Tommy and Wilbur would have had to wait fifteen minutes for the next one. It would have just been a disturbance in routine. Tommy hated those.

Tommy had blamed his near-breakdown for their tardiness, but also—

“Did you know Jack has friends ?” Tommy asked, sliding into his window seat. The train was more occupied than normal, so he kept his voice above a whisper for an attempt at politeness. There were only two other people in the back with them, a few seats ahead of Tommy and Wilbur’s.

“Was someone else in there?” Wilbur asked, Tommy nodding.

“I was absolutely scandalized, Will.”

Wilbur hummed in amusement. “Did you catch their name?”

“Oh— yeah . Uh. Niki.”

Wilbur was silent for a moment, and panic fluttered through Tommy’s chest, fearful that he might have brought up a possible bad memory, or one of the many someones Wilbur had pissed off that were just not in his life anymore,

Instead, Wilbur just smiled. “I know her,”

“Did you piss her off too?” Wilbur shook his head.

“She still visits me sometimes; you know Niki always brings the best flowers.” Wilbur thought. “Sometimes Jack comes with her, not in a bit though.”

“Wha’?” Tommy wondered. “I thought Jack hated you?”

“Where did you get that from?”

“You’re banned from his shop?” “Unrelated reasons,” Wilbur waved off.

Tommy squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Jesus fucking christ,” Tommy groaned. “you are a true enigma.”

They stopped; two women and a man got off.

“I know,” Wilbur says with a hint of pride.

“Mememememe—” Tommy mocked. “Am I the only one you terrorize?” “Nah. You are not the only one,” Wilbur said. “Techno is my neighbor. I terrorize him too.

Tommy massaged his temple. He didn’t know if Wilbur acting as he does with Tommy with others was concerning or reassuring. It certainly wasn’t jealousy that he was trying to massage out of his head. No, that would be ridiculous, Tommy decided. Wilbur had a brother. Wilbur had a family. Wilbur had other friends. Tommy was being ridiculous.

“I think I’m done mind gaming,” Tommy yawned.

“Are you?”

“Mm-hm.” Tommy hummed. “It’s exhausting. I don’t get how you can do it so easily.” “Practice,” Wilbur mused. “and I do not get tired.”

“Tubbo’s like that,” Tommy compares. Tubbo had dropped school completely at the beginning of September; his sleeping schedule suffered as a direct result. Tubbo would end up staying up for three days and proceeding to crash for thirty-seven hours.

They stopped, no one had left. But two men had entered, grabbing seats near the midsection.

“How is it going with them?” It took a moment for Tommy to realize just what Wilbur was asking Tommy. The troubles he had with Tubbo and Ranboo had been in the back of his mind.

Tommy had told them about dropping architecture before Sam, the night before Tommy had gone to him. Voiced his complaints and worries to them in a quiet voice in a discord call. Tubbo suggested being upfront and blunt about it, rip off the bandaid , Tubbo would say. Ranboo was Tubbo’s opposite, suggesting easing Sam into it.

“We’re— we’re good?” Tommy said. “They helped me, uh,” He pulled at the thread on his sleeve. “Helped me figure out how to approach Sam.”

A month ago, he wouldn’t have even bothered to go to them. Surely, they had better things to do together than listen to him complain .

A month ago, Tommy wouldn’t have bothered trying to switch. Sam was too busy, Sam was too good, and Tommy would’ve—

Tommy would have—

He didn’t, because of a now-forgotten deal with the man sitting next to him.

“You are thinking again,” Wilbur pointed out.

They stopped— Tommy sadly realized that the next one was Wilbur’s.

“I wish you would stop doing that,” Tommy whined, rolling his neck. “I know when I’m thinking, you don’t have to point it out.”

“What was it this time?”

“You,” Tommy admitted. “again.”

Wilbur’s expression was laced with amusement, his eyebrows raised above the circular glasses. “I am right here, you know.” A sigh climbed out of Tommy’s throat. “I know,” Tommy stressed. “I know that, obviously, you dickhead.” He grumbled.

“You want to share with the class then?” Wilbur joked, vaguely gesturing to the other passengers.

Tommy swallowed, tugging lightly at the thread. “I was thinking… I don’t know, man. About Sam, and Tubbo and Ranboo, and that shit and…” Tommy trailed. Wilbur was silent, nodding at Tommy to continue. Tommy mentally thanked him for the lack of smart remarks. “I wouldn’t have been able to talk to them— or, or Sam . I would have just…”

Tommy snapped his fingers. What was it? What was it? What was it—

Wilbur caught his stumbling. “Died?”

Tommy nodded, his throat tight. “Yeah— that. And I didn’t, yeah? I met you instead.”

“You are not alive just because of me, Tommy,” Wilbur said softly, and Tommy breathed in relief because Wilbur understood , he understood Tommy.

“But I am .” Tommy pressed desperately. “You… you—”

“I just gave you directions,” Wilbur interjected. “You are the one who mapped it out. You deserve that credit.”

Tommy shook his head in disagreement. “I could’ve gotten on another train, or you could have sat down somewhere else, and…”

“I think we still would have met,” Wilbur thought, and Tommy’s eyes moves from his palms to Wilbur’s face.

“You do?”

Wilbur hummed. “I do. Somehow, someway, in one way or another, we would have.”

Wilbur’s stop was coming up, the train was slowing. Tommy couldn’t help the frown that had formed on his face, because this conversation was far from over. Tommy hadn’t even built up to his thank you .

The train stopped, and Tommy gripped the plastic seat in front of him so tightly to keep himself from standing up and following Wilbur out.

“See you next week?” Tommy said instead. His knuckles were turning white.

“Of course,” Wilbur promised. “Remember what I said, okay?” Wilbur reminded.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy grumbled. “I think you’re wrong.” “I am never wrong,” Wilbur called confidently, and Wilbur was gone.

Tommy didn’t even get to say thank you , he thought bitterly. He would next week, whether Wilbur would accept it or not.

It was luck that Tommy had met him, not fate.

If Tommy had gotten on an earlier train, or a later one for that matter, he would’ve missed Wilbur. Tommy can picture Wilbur stumbling into the back of the near-empty train, and instead of greeting Tommy, he would sit down across from an empty seat.

Or maybe, Wilbur would go towards the front and start up a conversation with another stranger.

“You got any of that shit flavored candy?” Wilbur would ask the elder woman with the ruby-colored purse, because she had gotten on alone.

And Tommy would sit, alone. Working himself up to jumping. He wouldn’t have gotten off with Wilbur to go to Jack’s shop. Tommy’s jacket would be void of any pins, left blank.

Tommy ran his hands over the pins, rubbing his finger against the cool plastic of the new disc pin.

Wilbur started off as a distraction, someone who would merely delay the inevitable. A buffer. Then, he was a bet, a deal, testing to see who was correct and who was wrong. Tommy remembered the desperate feeling, wanting to prove to the smug bastard who looked like he knew everything that he could be wrong.

After that, he was just— Wilbur was just Tommy’s friend . He wasn’t a stranger or a delay, or a deal anymore.

Tommy had a million words and more on his tongue for Wilbur, but those will wait for now.

[basil-used-to-write]

It probably wouldn’t work in canon, but hear me out: magic being a daily part of life in 2044.

[Note: most are from various Tumblr posts ive seen about modern magic and street magic. The ones I thought of will have a (*) at the end]

Plant Mages tending to tiny rooftop gardens and window boxes

Elementary kids learning basic sigils on the playground

Witches taking a while to key into the magic in new cities when they move

Alchemists dealing on the side to support their experiments

Middle schoolers making friendship talisman and amulets for everyone

kids learning charms from each other on the bus, the same way most people learn their first swear words

Worrying your friend is getting into dark magic, but not knowing how to talk to them about it.

Intervention programs for people abusing hexes and runes, because magic has given them control over something for the first time in their lives and are starting to make dangerous choices and to help people who might have just gotten out of a cult or toxic coven that have PTSD or other mental illnesses caused by the situation (*)

Magic graffiti that vanishes when people like cops are around

Murals that if you listen closely can be heard, not seen

Kids hiding out in someone’s backyard or alley and casting minor illusions while they get high

Chalk artists making works so realistic they come to life on the sidewalk.

Punk concerts in empty lots with amped out music and lights, but noise cancelling spells and illusions hiding them in plain sight to anyone around

Necromancers in forensics speaking with the dead to solve homicides and cold cases

sensory objects that can shift into something pocket sized to take wherever it’s needed and can shift into any sensory object to help in specific situations

Hotels/apartments with vending machines stocked with cream/honey/shiny things for Fae (*)

Communities online discussing what find of cryptids live in their areas and which ones are friendly/violent or endangered

Witches/Warlocks/Mages keeping their potions in empty water bottles and Tupperware containers

Witches/Warlocks/Mages who buy little bottles from Michaels so their potion cabinets will look cute

Enchanting babies blankets and soothers to keep bad luck and illness away from them (*)

Gendershifting spells for NB, Genderfluid, Trans, DemiBoy/girl (etc) people. (*)

Glamour spells to hide parts of your body that make you insecure.  (*)

easier pregnancy’s that can be sped up if there’s any complication (with a cost), glamours to hide the belly so you can move easier, spells to relive morning sickness. (*)

Enchant a braclet to give the wearer faster reflexes (*)

Charm a headband or hairclip to give you clearer thoughts and to help with mental Disorders (*)

Ear piercings that translate everything around you into your native language

Lip Piercings that do the same, except when you speak you speak the language of whoever you’re speaking to.

A small bird tattoo behind your ear that chirps and whistles to you when your anxious.

A tattoo of your child that ages with them.

A tattoo for those that are hard of hearing or deaf and are unable to read lips at that moment that displays the words being said on their hand.

A nose ring that is charmed that as long as you are wearing it you will never lose your keys.

A flower scene that only bloom at certain times.

Little nocturnal animals tattoos like raccoons that only show up on your skin after dark.

A tattoo of digital numbers on your wrist that tells the time.

Notepad tattoo that takes notes for you as you go about your day it forms bumps on the skin if that person is blind so it can be read in braille.

Name tattoos that when tapped can talk to the person telepathically as long as the other person taps back.

ear piercings that beep softly if a trigger word is said telling you to leave the room.

Bracelet that will tighten around your wrist if you aren’t feeling well telling you to take a nap.

A rose tattoo that’s health changes depending on the state of your current relationship.

A heart tattoo for genderfluid people that changes colour depending on what gender they feel at that moment. Feminine? Pink purplish reds. Masculine? Greens Aquas and blues! Don’t really feel like any gender? Some nice soft grey scales. All and everything? Rainbow. (*)

Flower tattoo that will change depending on where you are based on what season it is and country so if your in Australia their natural flower is the Sturt Desert Pea, if you’re in Japan different cherry blossoms depending on where you are. Water lilies if your near a lake or pond.

bracelets to increase speed/agility.

Charm a middle finger ring with the power to temporarily give bad luck to anyone you flip off.

knot magic in your shoelaces to attract luck and hold in positive energy’s. Also: pennies in your shoe to attract luck.

charm your jackets, sweaters, and flannels with an ‘I’m rubber you’re glue’ effect to deflect negative energy like a bouncy shield.

a luck spell on your shoes to keep you from stepping in gum, dog crap, or anything undesirable. Also, to keep you from tripping and falling.

a charm on your socks and underwear to keep them from riding up or slipping or moving out of place

a spell over your perfumes/cologne/deodorant to make potential lovers more attracted to you because you smell pretty.

enchanting a choker or necklace to help with communication, clear speaking, singing, or to relieve anxiety over public speaking, or to make your voice deeper or higher depending on what you gender is that day.

a spell over your sports jersey or athletic wear to make you preform better in sports, and work harder or burn more calories when working out.

charm glasses and sun glasses with the power to find lost things and ‘see’ the truth to people’s lies.

charm earrings with the ability to hear gossip, secrets, and people talking behind your back, and the power to gain important information.

Queer-themed tarot card decks

Spells to empower queer people (and other oppressed groups) and hex their oppressors

Psychologists that can read emotions and feelings to provide easier diagnosis’s, help communicate better with nonverbal patients, and tell wether somethings wrong if the patient cants talk because their with any abuser (*)

Autistic Warlocks/Mages/Witches incorporating their special interests into their craft (*)

Spells to cope with panic attacks, anxiety attacks, or sensory overloads

Stimming while in trances or complicated rituals (*)

Scholars that run bookshops with books on magic and different magic-orientated illnesses (*)

Fair folk who sell potions at markets

Influencers who market towards Neurodivergent Witches/Warlocks with different stim toys that can calm in case of magic or sensory overloads.

Tutorials on how to take care of Cryptids/Gryphons/Dragons (*)

Tutorials on incantations and rituals to ease chronic pain (*)

Feel free to add if you have anymore ideas

[skittles1229]

THE EVER CHANGING STORY OF LUNARIS (reader insert romance)

SOME OF THESE CHARACTERS AND PLACES ECT. DO NOT BELONG TO ME, THEY WERE MADE BY LUNARIS GAMES FOR THE INTERACTIVE VISUAL NOVEL "WHEN THE NIGHT COMES" AVAILABLE EITHER FROM THIER WEBSITE OR ON ITCH. THE COVER IS ALSO FROM LUNARIS GAMES (ITS THIER PIN SET FOR SALE ON THIER SITE)

https://www.wtncgame.com/collections/pins-charms/products/wtnc-holo-sparkle-charms

This is a project I started to maintain my boredom so ill be using the characters from a really great visual novel called when the night comes written by lunaris. go check it out! ill be writing about all the characters including you being the x reader. after I've introduced the plot and characters and if i have enough readers, ill let you guys pick who I right the first romance ending with, the endings will probably have a bit of smut so if your just wanting to know the story you don't have to read the romantic endings

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Chapter One: Unwelcome Start

        My feet are killing me and its hot and dark, I'm walking through unfamiliar woods. All I can smell is tree leaves decaying and pine. To fill you in without telling you my life story and having a pity party, I'm one of the few shifting Dire Wolves left. We are a dying breed since people and monsters were coexisting now, I'm over joyed about the mixing of the populations but as the wolves breed with humans our ability to shift is slowing leaving as the generations grow. I on the other hand wasn't liked by much of anyone. I grew up around old town human folk. Both parents had been killed by townsfolk and luckily the little who girl found me as a puppy was nice enough to bring me to her home. That little girl became my life. Her blonde hair reminded me of wheat in the fall and she smelled of old moth balls and freshly cooked bacon. Kasey was a lonely child born a bastard and then left alone when her mom left into town one day. She didn't come home that night. She had the kindest eyes. They say eyes are the window to the soul and hers was broken and glued back together so many times that you couldn't recognize her original beauty. She brought me to a little cabin back in the woods where I stayed with her and her grandmother.  I stayed out of school because at the time freaks weren't exactly normal. I learned everything through Kasey and her homework as I grew up. We played in the old field through the woods and down an old forgotten gravel road. She would always tease me about my ears but she loved my big bushy tail. Kasey was a pure soul and sometimes id have to remind her how special she was especially during the times to come. She became ill in late fall, losing her ability to walk and becoming more and more pale from the lack of sunlight. We were told she had an immune issue that couldn't be fix with the medicine we had then and magic was a cure but was also out of the question since anyone who was seen as a witch was seen as a harm to the community and burned at the stake. It wasn't that way in the big towns with lots of people coming and going bustling about, but down here in the boon dock of the forgotten swamp everyone had the same opinion. anything new and different was and and therefore had to be destroyed.

         When I was around six Kasey succumb to her unfortunate circumstances in her sleep and she took her welcome with her. I think that maybe it was one of the few mercies I've ever seen god do for someone. After she died the grandmother, already being on her last years, passed not long after that. With nothing holding me to that little shack in the woods I moved on. I was never given a name and so along the way I've figured out who and what I am. Remind me to tell you that one later on, I've been walking for a few days with my satchel made from rabbit fur with old shoe laces holding it together, Kasey in her better days stayed bored in her old pink bedroom reading the same book she had on the old bookcase in the living room. Her grandmother went to the market in town most days to sell her vegetables. she would bring us home sweets and toys. For Kasey's birthday she bought her a bag of fabric rabbit fur and some thread and needles to teach her to sew hoping that would cure her boredom. A few months before she passed, she hurriedly finished off the synch bag with one of her shoelaces from her boots. That bag is the one I have with me now. My clothes and few days worth of food is in it as well. I had been shifted into my wolf form going on 48 hours now and my (F/C favorite color ) fur was now stained with mud and leaves from the nights sleep in a dug out hole. The last sign of civilization was back in my home town. it was now night time again and had seen no sign of a town any where close. It was getting dark and my joints were burning from the pain of walking. I quickly found a soft spot in the ground digging up a little hole to lay in for the night. The woods around me creaked with shifting wood and wind rustling the foliage. Harry had become the governor a while back suddenly disappeared recently in his home base in Lunaris. That's where Kasey's grandmother went for hours everyday to be a part of the market so I decided to see if there was anywhere I could stay and maybe get a job and start a life for myself. All this time I had no real name, Kasey never named me. She wanted me to be able to choose it for myself and I'm now 20 in human years. Our bodies aged in human instead of dog years another kind of pro with the watering down of the generations. I had gone through all of Kasey's family and school friends, even people she heard the name of by passing by in church, I'd heard all the names and thought about them and said them all out loud the see how they role off the tongue and I finally settled on (Y/N) tonight. 

      I had fallen asleep at some point and shifted back into human form curling around my bag to protect it from the outside. Suddenly the ground around me started to shake and the foliage covering the entrance to the den started to shake loose and fall in. At this point I'm wide awake and have my back to the wall and head in a snarl towards the entrance not knowing why or what had shaken the ground so harshly. I smell a fowl smell that reeks of something I've never smelled before. It began to burn my nose like alcohol or whatever grandma had in the wash rooms for spring cleaning. I heard twigs breaking and a long groan that howled with the wind. My heart was racing not knowing what to expect to come through the entrance and that's when I saw the light from the moon blocked by a large shadow. I braced for a fight when suddenly it let out a yelp of pain as I see two or three other shadows chase it to the right of the hole. Lots of yelling from men and women can be heard along with lots of new smells. All of them had hints of sweat and fear but some of them were odd. One was carried in on a breath of lavender and honey and the other of burnt wood like a fire place. One also smelled like chocolate and for a split second I smelled the familiar canine sent, Another wolf or maybe a half breed Lykan. I laid there and listened as the group seemed to quickly dominate whatever that creature was and if there's a group of hunters then there has to be a town. I wait for the noise to die out before I stick my head out of the hole to check my area. I look at the position of the moon and start to get a better idea of how long I was asleep. I think it must have been at least 3 in the morning. I grabbed my bag and pulled myself out of the hole, shaking off loose dirt and changing myself back into that big furry wolf I've become used to and walk towards where I heard the commotion to catch the scent of where they had gone. The creature they fought was dead on the ground covered in its black oozing blood. It looked like a genetic mutation of some kind gone very wrong and the smell almost could knock you out, if your a dog that is. I heard a snap of a twig in the distance and that's when I caught the scent of a dying summer, decaying flowers and dying memories. 

      I see a blue glow coming from an object a few feet in front of me hidden in the darkness of the trees, whatever it was it made it very clear that I was unwelcome and that I was seen as a threat. I bent neck down feeling the hair along my spine start to stand on end as I snarled my teeth in the direction of the ominous blue glow. Suddenly the tense feeling in the air dropped, you could feel the tension melt away and in that second the strange creature pushes forward into the moonlight. A man with golden eyes and a mechanical arm moves forward looking with his hands raised. "My names Finnegan and I know you wont hurt me because your not just any wolf am I right?" The sudden question brushes me as weird and out of place but regardless it only makes me all the more persistent that he not come any closer. He stops in his tracks and sits in the tall grass he had been previously standing in. We sat there like that for what seems like forever and he seemed to feel talkative because he asked question after question. I looked around to think of what direction I wanted to go in order to get away from here .

     "You know it would be easier to go to Lunaris." he said picking at something under his nails. I look at him tilting my head, can he hear my thoughts? I didn't think humans could do such things but he didn't look like a human. Not with the fangs like that and those pointed ears. "No I'm not human I'm a vampire, I live in Lunaris with my friends. I actually have a Lykan friend as well so you wont be alone." I bent my ears back in annoyance, tired of the vamp imposing on my thoughts. I decided I would speak with him but not in this form. As a Lykan I could still stay able to protect myself and be able to speak to this other freak of nature in front of me. In order to do so I'd have to get away from this vampire long enough to cover myself. Almost instantly the vamp got up causing me to jump. "There's a graveyard a little ways from here, you can shift and change in the maintenance shed. As I'm sure you heard earlier there are some odd creatures in these woods so ill walk you to town myself. Then I can take you to Ezra and have him give you a once over." he began to walk and turned around about five feet away to ask if I was going to follow, I decide that this town might be a start to a weird series of events. We made our way through the woods to a small path of cleared trees and some sand, we followed that to the graveyard behind a large church like building and that's when I saw the small shed. "I'll stand behind the shed towards the woods I'm sure nobody is awake so you shouldn't have to worry about townsfolk." I shifted back into my Lykan form and hurry into the shed. My (hair length) (H/Color) hair fell over my face as I shoved myself into my tight jeans and put my long sleeve white shirt on. my ears still sat on the top of my head and my tail is swishing back and forth in anticipation of how this town was going to accept a new comer and a freak at that. I threw on the hoodie I had found hanging on a tree on my way out of my old town, probably left by one of the boys in the old town. I smoothed my fur down and walked out of the shed with my bag in my hands, I peaked my head around the corner and caught the golden eyes of the man called Finnegan as he's leaned against the shack with his arms crossed. 

      I walk up to him with my arm wrapped around my bag and offered him the other. "My names (y/n), sorry about the weird introduction but I really just have no clue where I am or where I'm going." he grinned and studied me before opening up and talking again. "You cleanup really well don't you (y/n)." I simply lowered my head as a response and shrugged my shoulders. " It would suck to have to stay as wolf all the time because I'm just to ugly to look at as a Lykan." he laughs flashing his fangs and approaching me and taking my hand pulling me closer to him to where we were inches apart. "Ugly is one thing you aren't, if your this pretty as a Lykan then I cant wait to see you in human form" he then snuck his arm around my waist turning me around as he began to walk to the town. "How did you know I could do that?" I stopped him and I could see his grin form as he turned around to meet my eyes. "I've been alive a long time (y/n).  when the old man who sired me was alive he'd tell us stories of the dire wolves that lived in the forest in the mountains. He would tell us stories of how they had almost repopulated in a town not far from here, completely unannounced to the world growing among the town folk." he looked away suddenly his essence changed from one of wisdom and confidence to one of remorse and sadness. He began to walk once again motioning for me to follow. "That is until the townsfolk caught wind  of such rumors. He banded together the higher ups and went through exposing half the town to be," he grimaces as if saying the name leaves a sour taste in his mouth, "werewolves as the humans put it."  We had just made it through a small alley leading too a large stone road. This is the first time I've heard the real story aloud of what happened to my parents that day. Suddenly I  didn't feel much like talking anymore and the vampire noticed this as we made it to the closed up and dark market side of town. Large tents and shacks were on both sides of the road, I'm sure it looks much nicer when its open and bustling with people. "I'll have to show it to you." he says suddenly again answering my thoughts as if id said them aloud. "You know Finn I love your interest in me but I think its kind of of rude to read others thoughts right?" His eyes suddenly dart away and clears his throat, "Not if the person has particularly loud thoughts but I do see what you mean. Nasty habit it is, been aiming to fix that." We both laugh for a bit and then he heads for a door on the right side of the road raising his metal arm to touch the door. When his hand makes contact, Finn says a few words in another language and his arm burst to  life flowing with blue lights. The door makes a noise and a shield seams to lower into Finn's hand as he opens the door. He pulls me in and I'm immediately overwhelmed at the smells around me, some fragrant like perfumes and others dirty like burning wood. He had shelves of boxes and books, homemade spells and food with jars of candy lining the shelves.

     Finn puts the wards back up and leads me to the kitchen where he sits me down at the wooden table across from the couch and the wall covered in art work, "Wait here while I run upstairs and get the witch you just relax and think if anything hurts or needs to be looked at." with Finns vampy speed skills he vanishes up the stairs to get this so called witch, I certainly do hope I don't meet the same fate as my parents once did in this town years ago. I here rustling and movement up the stairs as a dark skinned man comes running to me with worried eyes and open arms. he cups my face in his hands and scans me over for any sign of blood or wounds. "Finnegan she looks alright, you made her out to be as if she'd been attacked." He looks back at Finn letting go of my face in order to hit him in the head just enough to scuffle his hair. He then turns around to me and straightens up his robe and his curly mop of hair, I hold out my hand to introduce myself and he grabs it with both hands pulling me in with a smile. "I'm Ezra and this my little spells and Knick knack shop." he has a strange contagious happiness that causes my worries and doubts to slip away. He rubs his hand through my hair making his way to my ears checking for ticks and mites since my ears are much different  from human ears. "Are you ok," He says we a worry filled smile and motions me to sit down, I obey as my feet have become numb after so many days of walking. He reaches into his shelves and pulls  out a kettle and a metal box of herbs and tea bags for homemade blends. "Go on love what happen? Why are you out in the woods at this hour?" I yawned in response of all their questions and simply said, "No disrespect Ezra but I'm exhausted and my feet are throbbing, I think the walking has caught up to me." He nods knowing what I mean. Ezra hands me a cup of tea and some cookies from a jar up in the cabinet. "Right I'm sorry. Let me help Finn out and I'll come back and run you a bath with herbs and salts to get you well rested and ready for tomorrow." He and Finn stepped to a hatch underneath the rug in Ezra's common quarters.  I took a few cookies sneaking them into my bag so that I can eat them later as well, they were ( favorite kind ) cookies and i couldn't resist the temptation to stuff my face. 

        Finn calls my name waving as he disappears into the hole and Ezra closes it back up and covers it again. "Alright now to get you all set, come with me up stairs." I follow behind slowly hating every step up those stairs but it was well worth it when I made it. He had a big circle tub surrounded in stone, it looked to be able to fit two people and the water come up pretty high. The twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling were different shades of blue purple and pink with a magical blue flamed candle hanging on the wall in a glass case. The tub was filled with steaming water and flower petals, the room smelled of pine and mint with citrus chopped up into slices and dropped into the water. Bubbles had covered the top of the water like snow and smelled like lavender and honey. His bathroom was pure happiness and love expressed in his home. "Now this bath should help your muscles not be sore in the morning and it should help you fall asleep tonight, I hate to ask but should I check you for ticks or scratch's anywhere on you?" I shrugged as my body was still covered in fur and it could be hiding anything but I was so self conscious about my body that I wouldn't dare ask for his help with this task. I point my head down and hugged myself as if to comfort myself. Ezra looked at me with kind eyes and hands me a towel, "Its ok if you aren't comfortable with it, just promise me you'll come and let me take any off for you. They carry lime disease and other things that can harm you!" as he goes to grab the handle to leave I grab his arm. I muster up all the courage I can and whispered, "Can you stay and help me Ezra?" He smiles and blushes slightly, wrapping me in a hug, "of course!" He closes the door and stays turned around as I take my clothes that I have on now off and grab the robe from the wall and cover myself. "Alright your ok to look now." I say in a small voice. "Alright I'm gonna start with your legs and work my way up and after your done you can use my cats flea shampoo to make sure everything is clean and gone. I nod my head agreeing and let him begin, he rubs his soft hands over my paw pads massaging as he goes looking for any bumps or imperfections. He comes across a tick that had made itself at home on my inner thigh , he poked and prodded at it for a few minutes but it was resistant to all his attempts. "You know fur is great but I just don't think I could do a full body of it." He laughs and I return his joke with a giggle of my own. "Would it be easier if there was no fur?" I ask searching his face for his reaction.  At first he looks confused and he seemed to be racking his brain for what I could be saying. "Well I'm certainly not going to shave you if that's what your asking." he smiles and we both laugh. I trusted Ezra I didn't sense any type of misjudgment or threat coming from this simple witch. 

     I began to shift into my human form and my leg grew smaller in his hand and the once thick course fur is now bare soft human skin. The robe that was a perfect fit before, is now hanging down off my shoulders. It draped around me like a sheet and Ezra had stayed quiet so far, only staring wide eyed and enchanted at the sight. My hair falls in front of my face as I smile at him, "Is that any better?" He's still not said a word so far, just staring at my face and rubbing my legs searching for the fur that was no longer there. "Now how did you do that? spell? hallucinations? Are you even a wolf?" He seems stunned and unsure of what to say, he did however have lots of questions some of which I could answer and others was searching for myself. We talked while taking the ticks that had made themselves at home on me off finally, burning them as he went. his hands glided over me like soap and his hands felt like heaven against my skin.  "I'm honestly stunned I didn't think of it before you told me, I remember in school they use to mention small things about dire wolves but they never dove into that chapter which I guess was because you guys were believed to have died out long ago. but behold!" he places some bubbles on my he'd and smiles so wide that his eyes look squinty. "your here1 So obviously the world didn't lose all of its beautiful one of a kind dire wolves." What a sweet happy minded guy, he seemed to only be able to see the silver lining and if he could see the other side of things then he hides his emotions very well. It didn't take much for the mud and dirt that was previously there to fall away into the soapy water. Ezra had gone to make himself a cup of tea and was waiting in his room for when I was done. My hair had been shampooed and I washed my body with the bar of soap sitting on the side of the tub. It was green and purple but see through, there was a small flower in the middle and there seemed to be small beads in the soap that came out as you washed. It smelled like roses and vanilla, the smell reminded me of Ezra. Soon I got out and dried myself off with the lavender towel Ezra had left behind, throwing the robe on and heading to where Ezra had said his room was. He had laid out a large t-shirt and a pair of women's shorts? I hadn't seen a women in here before and no-one had said anything about a wife or girlfriend ... maybe they were a friend of his, at least that's what I'm hoping. As soon as my head hit the soft feather pillow I drifted off into a deep sleep, filled with dreams of of cookies, flowers, and Ezra? oh, Finnigan as well. Seems I simply cant escape the happenings of tonight or the past. My memories slowly drift back to that little blonde haired girl I had loved once before.

(A/N) The picture at the top is of the characters mentioned in this from the game when the night comes. if you haven't read it You should defiantly take a look before you dive into this so that you can fall in love with the characters before reading other peoples interpretations of their personalities. I personally feel like I couldn't dream of reaching the level of dedication that the creator of the game had for their characters.

I also have a second chapter out on wattpad you can find it here.

https://my.w.tt/i2iNayX8mbb

[cryoculus]

Lunaris [3/11]

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Chapter Title: First Quarter Pairing: Yokai!Akaashi Keiji/Reader Word Count: 2,557

***

A few days passed by in a blur after your fainting spell at training. 

When you came back to school once you've fully recovered, Itsumi practically bawled her eyes out, sputtering apology after apology as if the reason for your absence was because she'd untied your laces. You could only console her awkwardly, explaining that, no, the untied shoelaces weren't the cause of your domino effect of misfortune.

For missed school work, your classmates had been kind enough to share their notes from the previous lessons you'd missed, filling you in on some of the upcoming requirements for the week. You only had two days' worth of backlog, but it was a lot. Thank god you were generally a likeable person.

"Yo, (Surname)!" 

In the middle of rewriting some missed notes, the familiar glee in Bokuto's voice sang in your ears. Your body reacted before your mind could, sending jolts of heat creeping up your face before you could even face him. The ace stood by your desk, and when you looked up, he was grinning like he'd just won the lottery. You weren't even classmates. What was he doing here?

"Bokuto-san," you breathed, hoping he won't comment on your flustered appearance. "Do you need anything? Ah, belated happy birthday, by the way."

Bokuto waved away your concern. "Thanks, but it's nothing. Heard that you blacked out the other day and I didn't even notice." His words were followed by the ace reaching a hand to scratch the back of his head apologetically. "If I'd known, I would've helped out."

You could feel your heart rate doubling at the sight of him apologizing for something that wasn't even remotely his fault. Why? Why was the universe orchestrating this interaction? Were they seriously trying to make you like him more?

"You don't have to feel guilty, you know," you chuckled, putting your pen down to face him directly. "You looking out for me is nice enough of you." 

"Heh, really?" A sheepish smile stretched across his mouth. "Akaashi kind of guilt-tripped me for being so dead-set with going home that day, that I was totally oblivious. And then..."

Akaashi. The mere name was enough to trigger a dull throb in your temples. Your memories of that day were still muddled, but there were a couple of things you recalled with striking clarity: your glowing charm, and Akaashi's apathetic gaze turning blood-red feral in the blink of an eye. 

When Fujimoto explained that you got hexed by a yokai, you didn't ponder about it too much—total recovery being your top priority during the past two days. But now that the topic of the seemingly ordinary second year had come into light once more, your instincts told you that he was, indeed, the cause of your so-called affliction. 

"You alright, (Surname)?" 

Blinking, you realized that you spaced out in the middle of Bokuto's rambling. He's gazing at you, golden eyes wide and head tilted to the side like a curious owl. 

"Um, yeah!" You followed that up with a nervous-sounding laugh. "I'm just swamped with all this school work, and I just don't know how to manage them all." 

"Ohhh," he drawled, nodding in understanding. "Well, I won't eat up any more of your time. See you around!"

Once that force of nature stepped outside of your classroom, you noticed that some of your classmates were casting you curious stares, whispering among themselves. Itsumi, who was grinning at you like a fox, just happened to be one of them.

You sighed, occupying yourself with your notes. Who knew what kind of ideas Bokuto's little chat had planted in your best friend's head? You didn't want to know, nor did you have the time for it. 

*** 

"You really didn't have to lead today's laps when you just got back, you know?" Coach Yamamoto told you off with a hint of a scolding in his words. "If you relapsed, I think the Amatsuki shrine might just have my head offered at the lunar festival." 

You humored him with a soft laugh as you squeezed what's left of the contents of your water bottle in your mouth. Wiping the excess moisture from your lips, you turned to your coach with a reassuring look. "I'll see to it that it doesn't happen, coach."

When he politely excused himself out of the conversation, you headed straight to the gym, where the rest of your teammates have just about finished showering. You looked around for a bit, and it seemed that the volleyball team finished early because it was only their manager and coach left inside along with the track team. You refused to acknowledge that the bite of disappointment that pricks your heart was because Bokuto wasn't around.

"Hey, (Name)! You gonna shower?" Itsumi called out from the bleachers as she towelled her damp hair. 

You shook your head, slinging your gym bag across your shoulder. "I just came in to check on you guys. Could you make sure everyone gets home safely? Oba-san's making me run errands for the festival."

Your best friend nodded. "Sure. I'll tell them to send updates to the group chat so you can see, too."

"Thanks. I owe you one, Sumi. Bye guys!" 

"Bye captain!" was the singsong response of the rest of your teammates who were waiting on the others. You smiled before turning on your heel to make your exit. 

The walk from Fukurodani to downtown Tokyo didn't take very long. You knew each nook and cranny like the back of your hand, and wading through the abundance of evening commuters didn't hassle you as much as any other person. Your grandmother had only told you to meet with her middleman somewhere near Ikebukuro station, and that you would definitely recognize the man when you see him. 

That didn't really offer enough clues about the middleman's identity, but as you neared the station, you were able to spot a middle-aged monk in traditional Shinto robes, carrying with him a gilded crate similar to the ones you've always seen in the shrine's offertory hall. He certainly stood out from everyone else in the vicinity.

"Takahashi-san?" you asked once you got close enough to speak to him.

The monk turned to you questioningly, but his eyes shone with recognition the following second. "Ah, Amatsuki-sama! The elder mentioned I would be meeting with someone who wore a charm." 

You blinked in confusion before glancing at the bell on your wrist. It tinkled with the slight motion, and you realized that he was talking about your bracelet. 

"Oh, I'm not an Amatsuki," you corrected sheepishly. "My grandmother just sent me out to get the...?"

"Omamori amulets?" Takahashi continued, chuckling as he turned the knob on the crate and lifted the cover. Inside, dozens upon dozens of omamori or protection amulets were safely sealed in bubble wrap packaging. Each pouch came in a plethora of colors and patterns on the fabric, and you found yourself gaping slightly at the beautiful designs.

When Takahashi sealed the crate shut once again, he handed it to you like its contents were fragile. You half-expected for it to be quite heavy, but it was lighter than you thought!

"I apologize for mistaking you for Anri-sama," he said, the name catching your attention. "You're her daughter, yes? You do look very much alike." 

The mention of your mother made your heart sink, but Takahashi probably had a long way to go back. Your grandmother did say he was from one of the sacred shrines in the Fuji mountains. He didn't have the time to hear your tragic backstory. 

"Thank you for going all the way here, Takahashi-san. Our shrine is looking forward to giving these to our visitors." You bowed politely. "I'll be on my way, and I hope you make it safely back, as well."

"May the gods favor you," he imparted with a gentle smile. 

***

When the weekend rolled by, you found yourself climbing up the moss-coated pathway that led to the highest point of the hill. You'd just finished eating dinner with your grandmother before excusing yourself to go up to the cemetery to do some contemplating. The worried look that creased her brow once you said the words was an expression you'd prefer for her not to make, but you've been itching to go back up here since meeting up with Takahashi last week.

The rusty, metal gates creaked with age when you nudged it open with your foot. After, no other sound followed. It was just you under the watchful gaze of the half-filled moon, standing before the grave of several of your shrines followers. 

You breathed in the rich scent of the earth before treading forward. 

Most people would be unnerved to be walking alone in a cemetery at night, of all times. You understood why. It was like time simply stopped flowing for both those buried beneath the ground where you stood, and the area itself. The air was stale and the leaves underfoot fell apart much quicker than those scattered in the lower parts of the hill. The grass seemed like it's been a while since it was last watered, leaving the shrivelled up blades decaying at your feet.

But not once did you ever feel a surge of fear whenever you paid your parents a visit. 

"I'm back," you said, kneeling before their graves as you clasped your hands together to offer up a quick prayer. There were no incense sticks to light up, no offerings to be made. Your grandmother said that her daughter hated receiving things she couldn't give back to, and you respected that preference up until now. 

Amatsuki Anri and (Surname) Kazunari died in an accident about sixteen years ago—too long ago for you to remember. You'd been in the same car with them on that fateful night, but you miraculously survived; having been protected by your mother until the very end. Though you had no actual attachment to your parents, you were still grateful to them for bringing you into this world, and for saving you as well. 

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the way a gust of wind rustled the nearby trees; didn't notice the figure emerging from the forest your grandmother warned you to stay away from. Akaashi observed you with rapt attention, blue eyes never missing a motion made. You were speaking to a couple of stones, and though he found the practice quite useless—for lifeless objects did not have the capacity to speak back—he's witnessed hundreds of humans in his lifetime do the same thing. 

When the demon announced his presence, you were quick to identify where he was. Akaashi frowned. For a human, you were awfully perceptive. 

"Y-You..." your voice trembled, and for the first time, dread settled in the pit of your stomach, creeping up your skin in the form of gooseflesh. "You were the one who hexed me!"

Akaashi cocked his head to the side. "Hexed you? Yokai do not have such capabilities. It seemed to me that your body simply reacted to my presence is all. Oh, and so did that little warding charm, I suppose."

Your arm jerked away instinctively when you felt the familiar heat searing your skin. But the sensation wasn't as severe as the last time—the charm's glow having been contained into a small prick of light. With a grimace, you turned to look up at Akaashi, who seemed so normal, so unassuming that you never would have guessed what he actually was.

"Why are you pretending to be a human?" you asked, knowing full well that further interactions with yokai would only lead to your demise. "Is there something you're after?" 

In lieu of an actual response, Akaashi took it upon himself to walk closer to you. However, the closer he got, the hotter and brighter the charm glowed on your wrist. You hissed, attempting to undo the knots of the bracelet until the bell simply stopped glowing. You muttered a confused, "what?" before turning to Akaashi, who was barely a meter in front of you. 

"Were you really about to take off your only line of defense in the face of a yokai?" he chuckled. "Humans really are strange, indeed." 

You inched away from him slowly, but each step you took back, he closed the distance with a step forward—trapping you in between him and your parents' gravestones.

"We've been going to the same school for two years," he began, taking your hand in his. "Didn't you ever wonder why that charm of yours never tried to repel me before?" 

You were too stunned to take your hand out of his grasp, but you took note of how deceivingly smooth his skin was. When you didn't respond to his question, Akaashi heaved a sigh, tracing each of your fingers with a gentleness that yokai shouldn't have.

"I can conceal my demonic presence so warding charms like that do not react to me," he explained. "The only reason it did the last time was because I wanted to alert you of my presence."

"Y-You still haven't answered my question," you told him, praying to the gods that he didn't hear the terror in your voice.

Akaashi sighed, carding his free hand through his messy hair. "Impatient little creatures, aren't you all? But I suppose it's fair. Your time on this earth is awfully limited." He then lifted your hand up to his chest, flattening the palm on the firm surface. For someone who seemed slender, Akaashi's chest was certainly toned underneath his shirt. You could feel yourself flush at the idea of feeling up an athlete like him, but there was something amiss—something that should be there but wasn't.

"You don't have..." The realization dawned on you, turning your gaze frigid. "You don't have a heartbeat."

"That, I do not," he affirmed, loosening his grip on your hand so that it fell to your side. 

You were gaping at Akaashi like he's grown two heads. Though yokai were an entirely different race, they still needed a heart to be able to use their powers. If Akaashi was able to conceal his presence at will and assume the form of a human all without a heart, then he must be someone powerful; someone you never should have involved yourself with.

"Who are you?" you whispered, almost fearing to hear his answer. 

Instead of morphing into his original form to kill you on the spot like you expected him to, Akaashi spared you a lopsided smile. He shoved his hands in his pockets, turning around while waving a hand in farewell. 

"If you want to know, meet me here tomorrow night, where the moon shines brightest." His words were obscured by the sudden breeze that howled in your direction, but you managed to understand, still. The wind cut through your face sharply enough for you to shield it with your hands, screwing your eyes shut. It roared in your ears, and you genuinely wondered if you were ever going to go home tonight. 

Suddenly, the gale died down. When you lowered your hands and opened your eyes, there was no trace of the boy who'd been here just a minute ago.

It was just you under the watchful gaze of the half-filled moon. 

[jaspers-levis]

The New Boy

Happy Pride month! I completely forgot to post this back when I finished, but better late than never, right? Please be kind in regards to my portrayal of the trans experience. I identify as my birth gender, so it was a different experience for me to write as a trans boy. I hope that I got somewhat close to what that experience may be!

Also, no matter who you are, you are deserving of love, respect, safety and happiness. This blog, although twilight themed, is always a safe space. If any of you need someone to talk to, my inbox is always open. Just because I may not know the full experience of what you are going through does not mean I cannot sympathize and offer comfort. We are all human beings on this planet together <3

Reader request by @eatmoarveggies

A new trans boy joins Forks High

“Can’t believe mom’s stupid job landed us in this stupid tiny town,” you muttered to yourself at the stoplight (the only one) on Main Street. Rain lashed at your windshield in an unrelenting stream, perfectly reflecting your mood. Not two weeks ago you’d been laughing it up at a cafe table in the sun on the California coast with your friends, planning a weekend getaway trip the last weekend before school started. Now you were driving as slowly as a snail through the pools of water covering the roadway in your crappy silver toyota, for once glad your mom hadn’t let you get a convertible. 

You glanced at the clock, realizing that if you continued at this pace you would be pushing the bell when you arrived at school for your first day, and inched the gas pedal down a notch. Stupid dumb rain. Sighing, you finally made the turn into the Fork’s High school parking lot and pulled into one of the last spots available. You reluctantly shut off the engine and checked your backpack for your school welcome packet. Unfortunately they’d written your birth name on each form, rather than the name you’d chosen for yourself two years ago when you realized you were a boy. Even after all this time, the deliberate refusal to call you by your correct name still rankled.

Annoyed, you ripped your school map out of the packet and slammed the folder shut before hopping out of your car and dashing for the main building. The offensive welcome packet served as a good shield against the downpour and you managed to get to the office with your carefully styled hair still in place. “Hi there, honey,” a generically pretty middle-aged receptionist greeted you. “How can I help you?”

“I’m supposed to register for classes? I’m Y/N, from California,” you told her, setting your stuff down on the counter. 

“Hmm…” she clicked industriously at her computer for a few moments. “I’m sorry hon, I recognize the last name but not the first.”

Sighing internally you muttered that it might be under your birth name, not your actual name and she instantly brightened. “Oh! Of course, here we are. Such an interesting name for a young girl. Is it a nickname?”

“No, I actually identify as a male,” you stiffened, resigned to an entire day of misgendering if the rest of the staff and students here at Forks High were as thick as this lady. “Thank you for your help.” You grabbed your schedule out of her hands and made a beeline for the door before she could say anything that was clearly already on the tip of her tongue.

On your way out, you opened the door right into a slim, dark haired girl who immediately dropped all her books and tripped over her own untied shoelace on her way to pick them up. “I’m so sorry!” you apologized, kneeling to help gather her books.

“Hey don’t worry about it!” she said cheerfully with a wry smile, shoving up the sleeves of her plaid shirt. “My mom always says I’m a walking disaster. Edward, my boyfriend, says if there is even the slightest change in elevation I’d fall.”

“I had a friend like that back home,” you return her good natured smile and help her stand. “My name’s Y/N.”

“Cool, I’m Bella,” she shook your hand, not missing a beat. She did eye you curiously but didn’t say another word on it, besides wishing you luck on her way to her first class. Hm. Maybe Forks wouldn’t be as bad as you’d thought…

And you were deeply wrong. Every single teacher called you by your birth name and when you corrected them whispers circulated amongst the class for the better part of the period. At least one person made a pointed remark about your physical appearance within hearing range each class, and one girl openly asked you what you had “down there” in between classes. Things only got worse when you asked if there was a private changing room you could use before gym. The instructor laughed before realizing you were serious and begrudgingly offered you a cluttered storage room next to his office. “I don’t like offering special treatment,” he groused as he unlocked the door. “Don’t mess anything up in here.”

You sighed and changed quickly, emerging to find a group of teenage boys, seniors and juniors mostly, waiting for you. Gritting your teeth at the sharp jump in your pulse, you tried to push through them. One of them caught you and shoved you, hard. “So what are you, really?” their leader asked, scowling. “You can’t seriously be calling yourself a boy, you look like a fucking girl. Or are you one of those gays too?”

“That’s none of your business,” you mutter, trying to get past them again. This time you were thrust against the wall so hard your head knocked against the cinderblocks painfully. 

“Like hell it isn’t!” the leader growled in your face, pinning you against the wall. “You just want to get in the boy’s locker room for a sneak peek, is that it? We’ll give you a sneak peek right here!”

You spat in his face in retaliation and he threw you to the floor in anger, where the rest of the boys surrounded you in an instant, ready to beat the shit out of you. Curling into a ball, you sent up a prayer to whatever god was listening that it would be over soon. 

After a moment, you uncurled yourself when not a single kick landed. You looked up to see the largest senior boy you’d ever seen standing before you looking scarier than hell as he stood off against your tormentors. A statuesque blonde girl stood next to him, shaking with fury and shooting daggers at the boys. “Don’t ever fucking come near him again,” she spat, taking a step forward. 

“What are you gonna do?” the leader sneered, crossing his arms.

“You don’t even want to know, bro,” the enormous boy said, laying a restraining hand on the girl. “Get the fuck out of here before she loses her temper.”

The boys turned and ran at the look on the girl’s face.

“Hey man, you okay?” the large boy turned and reached out a hand to help you up. His skin was shockingly cold for such a large dude… “My name’s Emmett, and this is Rosalie. We heard the commotion and came to see what was going on.”

“I’m Y/N,” you stammer as Rosalie turns her fearsome gaze at you. 

“If those boys, or anyone else even so much as LOOK at you funny, you come find me or one of our family. We’ll take care of it,” she said fiercely, her golden eyes frighteningly intense.

Emmet gave Rose a look and sighed. “Y/N… you’re new, right? You met our brother’s girlfriend Bella earlier this morning. Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too…” you said haltingly, uncertain.

“Ignore Rose; she won’t bite...well, you at least,” Emmett joked, patting you on the shoulder and leading the two of you back to the gymnasium. “But seriously, if anyone is nasty to you again, we’ll help you out. No one should be treated like that!”

“Why are you helping me?” you asked, apprehensive of these beautiful strangers and their generous offer of aid.

“Those guys are all assholes,” Rosalie growled, sending a terrifying glare in their direction across the gym floor that sent them scattering like cockroaches under a light. “I hate them.”

“Well, that, and we don’t like bullies,” Emmett shrugged. “What you have in your pants, who you are or what you look like are your business, not anyone else’s. Who the fuck cares anyways?”

“Way too many people at this school,” you mutter as the gym teacher approached, explaining the activity for the class. You didn’t get a chance to talk more with Rosalie and Emmett during class, but afterwards they invited you to sit at lunch with you and their family. Maybe things really wouldn’t be that bad if you had a couple of supportive friends like the Cullens...

[statistically-unlikely-monster]

Jon’s Not Dead

Chapter 1 Part 2

This part references a lot of Crash Zoom since the witch girl from Trick or Threat is in this. If you haven’t watched Crash Zoom, I recommend it. Anyways, onto the story~

Of all the places he was expecting to go, his apartment building was not it. The way they made it sound, this girl lived far off somewhere. But yet, he turned out to be living in the same building. 

Eduardo led the group in, checking his pocket just to make sure he still had his own key. The last thing he needed was to be locked out after all this. He cringed at the thought of having to ask someone to let him in, especially one of his past neighbors. Sure, he had been on better terms with that Edd guy, but he still hated Tom and Matt.

A little bit of him regretted leaving Mark behind at the Red Army base, but someone needed to stay there and keep an eye on the other members. Mark may have trusted them, but he most definitely did not. Sure, Eduardo had control over their leader because of his strength, but there was the chance of the others going rogue and trying to derail his chances of bringing back Jon.

“So this is where everyone moved?” Tord asked, glancing around the main lobby area.

There wasn’t much to it. Old 60’s style chairs were placed against the walls with matching coffee tables. Forest and nature paintings covered the dull yellow walls. A vase of dead flowers were placed on the counter of the landlord’s desk. Luckily the landlord wasn’t there.

“Yeah, not everyone can afford a nice house after a certain someone blows their old one up,” Eduardo jabbed, pressing the call elevator button on the other side of the lobby area, “You guys might want to take a seat, this thing takes a while to come.”

Paul flopped himself onto a loveseat, and pulled out his phone. Tord perched himself on the arm of the loveseat.

After an uncomfortable ten minutes of standing, the elevator finally came. Tord and Paul hopped up, eager to get in, but Eduardo stopped them with his arm just before they could get in, “Hold up. Look at it.” The elevator slid down farther than it was supposed to, and then screeched to a halt. The ropes were frayed, with a few on the verge of snapping, “Darn thing is always breaking down. I guess we’re using the stairs.”

Without a word, Eduardo walked off to the stairs, leaving the others behind him. The girl lived on the floor just below his. Floor 4. That area was always getting reported for noise, whether it be parties, people fighting, or the occasional explosion. Needless to say, the infamous floor didn’t thrill him in the least. The less time he spent there, the better. The others slowly trickled in after him once he reached the landing. Paul clung to the railing, completely out of breath.

“I told you those cigarettes are destroying your lungs,” Tord teased, smirking as he passed him.

“Look who’s talking Mr. I-smoke-cigars-because-they-look-cool!” Paul   retaliated with a wheeze.

“They do look cool!”

Eduardo rolled his eyes and continued up. The bickering got old real quick, “How are these people the same ones that wrecked the neighborhood?” He thought to himself, “All they do is goof off.”

The landing of the fourth floor was oddly dusty with what looked like glitter. Wasn’t really anything too out of the ordinary considering the people on said floor, so Eduardo just shuffled through it.

The entirety of floor four was covered in glitter. No amount of space was spared. With the right kind of light the whole place could be used as a disco ball.

In the middle of it all was three people; a young woman, a young man, and a little girl.

“What were you two thinking?!” The young woman was scolding them.

The young man patted his hand on her shoulder, “Aww c'mon Lucy, don’t be such a party pooper! We were just having fun!”

“Fun?! Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean glitter?!”

The little girl chipped in, pulling out a huge black book from her bag, “Maybe one of these demons can help us?”

“No no no! We’re not summoning anything else! Last time you about killed everyone!”

“I didn’t kill anyone, that was all the monster that you asked for!”

“I never-” The woman named Lucy cut herself off upon noticing Eduardo standing there, “Eduardo, thank God, can you please talk some sense into them?!”

Now here came a dilemma. The Necronomicon was right there in front of him, just within snatching distance. But he knew Lucy. They were good friends from way back. Stealing from a little girl right in front of her would be a bad move.

Luckily, he didn’t have to ponder the decision for too long, because Tord came running up and almost ran them all down. Grabbing the book from the little girl’s hands, he held it over his head triumphantly, “I got it!”

The little girl squealed in surprise, “Hey, that’s mine! Give it back!” she pounded her fists harmlessly on his stomach, “Give it back you big jerk!”

“You stole it from me you… trash gremlin? Huh… I was expecting you to be a bit more threatening.” Tord chuckled, poking her head mockingly, “What’s wrong? Are you gonna cry?”

He soon regretted those words. The girl swung her leg up as high as she could, nailing him in the jaw. She then ripped the book away from him, using it to beat him over the head, “AGH! PAUL, GET THIS RABID THING OFF ME!”

Paul, whom had just then gotten up the stairs, blatantly ignored Tord’s cries, “ One second, I just found a Pikachu!”

“Why are all my soldiers useless?!” Tord whined, “Eduardo! Help!”

Begrudgingly, Eduardo pulled the girl off, “Kate, right?” he began to explain, kneeling down to her eye level, “I really need to use this, so if you could please-”

“Nope!”

“Aww, c’mon kid. Five seconds, that’s all I need.”

“No, it’s mine.” She blew a raspberry at him.

“Ok, yeah, real funny. What will it take for you to let me borrow that?”

“Hmm… how about a game?”

“Oh god” “Ok, I’ll bite. What’s this game?”

“I’m gonna use my spell book to summon up a big baddie. If you can beat it, I’ll give you the Necronomicon. If you lose, well, you’ll probably be broken beyond repair. Interested?”

Eduardo took a deep breath. He didn’t come this far just to walk out like a wimp. His best bud was counting on him. If he didn’t get the book, then that was it, “Can I use a weapon?”

“Any of your choice”

“I guess…yeah, let’s do it.”

Lucy and Ben wisely hid a floor down, away from the soon to be destruction.

Kate grinned, “Won uoy llac I ,htarw fo nomed! Flesruoy rof eulb eht revo ekat!”

The floor went pitch black. A glowing, circular rune appeared beneath Kate’s feet. She floated in the air, eyes gleaming red and sharp pearly teeth bared. The Necronomicon floated with her, just inches from her fingertips. From the rune rose a large black figure. It’s horns scrapped the ceiling even with it hunched over. One beady black eye glared down at Eduardo, snarling and thrashing its tail in anger. 

“…Aw sh*t.” Eduardo muttered in realizing his mistake.

The monster took a deep breath, and unleashed a blast of fire from its mouth. Eduardo ducked out of the way just in time. The only thing on him to get burned was his shoelaces. The wall and carpet behind him was set ablaze, filling the room with smoke.

Paul hopped into action, whipping out the gun on his back and firing directly at the monster. The monster blocked the attack with its tail before swinging it wildly, knocking Paul and into the wall with enough force that he was halfway through it. 

“Hey, I thought he got a weapon!” Tord spoke up, quickly ducking a stray blast of fire.

“He gets one of his choice. I didn’t say I was giving him one.” Kate crooned before disappearing in a puff of smoke. 

“Jævla det-” Tord growled, “Hey! Big and ugly!” he called to the monster. When it turned around, he flipped it off, “Come get me!”

Howling with rage, it lunged at Tord, whom slipped under its body before it could get him. The monster flung itself into the wall, destroying it in the process like a giant wrecking ball.

Eduardo exclaimed, “Holy crap are you alright?”

“Ja. Go get Paul’s gun.” Tord replied as a mischievous smirk grew on his face, “I have an idea.”

Nodding, Eduardo slipped Paul’s gun out of his unconscious hands, and froze. He had no idea how to fire a gun. It wasn’t something he thought he would ever need to know. Sure, you just pull the trigger and a bullet comes out, but the gun in his hands was way more complicated than that. There were weird levers and hatches, a scope, and all sorts of other pieces he didn’t know how to use.

Meanwhile, Tord was having fun with the monster. He moved much faster than it, ducking and diving around it. The monster couldn’t keep up. In trying to keep up with the annoying little human running its feet, it made itself dizzy to the point it almost couldn’t stand upright. With that window of opportunity, Tord launched himself onto the monster’s back, and wrapped his one arm around its right horn. 

Growling, it bucked like a horse, trying to throw the pest off it. Being so close to the ceiling, it couldn’t really jump too much without hurting itself. It couldn’t get Tord off no matter how hard it tried.

“Uh, mind shooting it sometime today?” He called to Eduardo, whom was still struggling with the gun, “I can’t do this much longer. Starting to slip.”

Eduardo shot back, “Just give me a second! I got it!” he aimed at the monster, but no matter how many times he pulled the trigger, no bullet would fire, “How the hell do you use this thing?!”

“Do you really not know how to use a gun?”

“Pfft! Of course I do! …Okay, maybe I don’t, so what?”

“Just pull the trigger!”

“I tried, but nothing’s happening.”

“Did you check if it needs reloaded?”

“Ok, you know what, screw this!” Eduardo charged at the beast, wielding the gun like a club. With a swift thwack to the eye, the beast howled in pain, then disappeared in a cloud of dark smoke. 

Tord fell to the floor with a dull thud, “…I guess that’s one way to do it.”

Reaching out his hand, Eduardo helped him up. The floor was still burning around them. Fiery tongues lashing out and consuming everything, including something that made both their hearts drop. There, just at the front door of one of the apartments was the one thing they came for, now blazing like a candle. 

Panicking, Eduardo ran over to stamp out the fire as Tord rushed away to grab the fire extinguisher on the wall. However, they were too late. All that was left of the Necronomicon was a pile of blackened ash and the remaining bits of glitter that survived the fire. Both froze, looking down at it in pure disbelief. It was gone. No amount of glue or tape could fix it now.

[james-pottr]

˜”*°•.˜”*°• 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 𝕛𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕒 ( @marymacd​ ) •°*”˜.•°*”˜ 

“Wait, start again for me. It’s called a what?”

“A television, James.”

“A tellyvisor?”

The heavy sigh that bursts from Mary’s mouth is almost enough to make James laugh; a small smile of amusement already playing at his lips. Her normally placid and kind expression had crumpled with exacerbation and James only wished he was doing this on purpose so that he might stop.

In all truth, Mary had offered to do something exceptionally kind for him, and he hated that he was being such a bother about it. She was, after all, trying to prepare him for the Muggle world the best she could.

James knew that he could have always asked Lily, who had a far more interesting way of rewarding him for correct answers, but the whole point of such an exercise was to surprise Lily. James wanted to increase his knowledge of Muggle things and ideas so that he might make a good impression on the Evans’. He knew that his natural charm should be enough to win them over, but he was nothing if not an overachiever.

And that was where Mary had come in.

The last thing that James wanted to do when meeting his girlfriend’s parents was to embarrass himself, or them, or Lily with his lack of knowledge. Nor, he supposed, did he want to give her sister any more reason to hate his guts.

(Though with the way Lily spoke about Petunia, he had a feeling she would hate him regardless).

So with that in mind, James had set his plan in motion.

𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖕 𝕺𝖓𝖊: 𝕲𝖊𝖙 𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖞'𝖘 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

This had been simultaneously the easiest and hardest part of the whole endeavour. How could he get Mary alone without arousing suspicion from just about every single one of their mutual friends? He liked Mary, he really did, and he knew he could probably call her his friend, but there was no pretending that she wasn’t Lily’s friend first.

This wasn’t like with Marlene, who had always been equally James and Lily’s at the same time, nor was it like Sirius, who James was pretty certain still didn’t trust Lily completely, despite the fact James was head-over-heels. Not that he’d acknowledge it to his best friend’s face, but James had a feeling Sirius was behaving rather like a small child who didn’t want to share a toy. 

Instead, it was more like Mary had always been on the peripheral of James’ world. She wasn’t practically family like Marls, nor was she the centre of his fascination like Lily. She was just...Mary. Solid, dependable Mary and someone James was pretty glad he was getting to know.

But growing friendships aside, it wasn’t like he could just be like “Oi, Macdonald, need to speak with you” without arousing suspicion and Merlin apparently forbid she ever study alone.

So desperate times called for desperate measures.

He jinxed her shoes.

Not drastically. Just enough that she would trip over her shoelaces and drop her belongings everywhere. And okay, maybe he had timed it right before Lily had a meeting with McGonagall and when Remus was out sick, so that James was the only one around that could swoop in like a true gentleman and save the day.

It was hard not to pump his fist in glee at how well it worked.

Mary, however, seemed less than pleased.

“Tell me you had nothing to do with this,” she had said suspiciously as he ducked down to scoop up the scattered pieces of parchment. James tried his best to look as innocent as possible, but there was a strong chance he just came off mildly constipated. His attempts lasted only a few more seconds before he gave in with a deep sigh and a crooked grin. He’d only just convinced Mary that he wasn’t as much of an idiot as she thought he was; they didn’t need to be taking backwards steps.

“I need your help,” he said, not bothering with her question. They didn’t really have to get into the logistics of the whole tripping jinx, did they? Mary’s whole face seemed to crumble with confusion and as he clamours to his feet, James began to explain, his hands already waving a mile a minute.

“I need you to help me not make an utter prat of myself in front of Lily’s dad.” he spluttered finally, and realisation slowly sank into Mary’s expression. It seemed to take a fair bit of convincing to win her around - although James had a feeling she was just prolonging it to stir him up - as well as at least two strange looks from Sirius when they finally emerged from the classroom, but James was pleased with the progress.

𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖕 𝕿𝖜𝖔: 𝕷𝖔𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖘

If James had thought trying to get Mary alone long enough to seek her help was hard, it had nothing on their attempts to actually hold their secret Muggle Studies meetings. Sure, Mary could have just thrown a textbook at his head and told him to read, but James had liked the thought of being taught by someone with actual experience, and he had a feeling that Mary liked the idea of getting to boss him about for a bit. 

The trouble was, of course, they had quite possibly the neediest group of friends he had ever seen. James loved his friends, he did. He would die for Sirius and Remus and Peter, had done many an illegal thing for them, and obviously, Lily and Marlene were the lights of his life in romantically and platonic ways, but did they all have to be so up in his business all the time? 

(Thinking such a thing caused many a restless night of guilt in the weeks following).

The last thing James wanted was to be caught ‘sneaking’ around with Mary, even if their intentions were completely innocent. It was bad enough some of the wankstain Slytherins had already started suggesting James had a 'thing’ for people of a certain blood-status. He just figured that they weren’t smart enough to recognise what a friend was.

So James did what James did best: utterly bullshitted an excuse.

“I’m helping tutor her in Transfiguration. My Head Boy duties and all,” he spluttered one evening after they had run into Lily and Marlene in the halls outside the library. 

Were looks able to kill, James had a strong feeling the one Mary had shot him in response would have murdered him at least four times over. It wasn’t like he could tell them she was tutoring him? A) That would give away the whole plan and B) everyone knew Lily was the one who ‘helped’ him.

“Nothing too huge,” he had continued to say, feeling the way Mary had twitched beside him, as if she wouldn’t mind clocking him upside the head if given the chance. “Just a bit of revision. But...erm...she gets...I mean I get a bit nervous if too many people are watching my teaching abilities, so if we could just get this done and all meet up for dinner later?”

James had waited a few moments to see if either girl in front of him was about to protest what really was a pretty shitty excuse, before he spun on his heel toward the library. Sure, Mary would probably be subjected to a bunch of questions when she got back to her dorm that night, and okay, James himself was certainly going to get interrogated by Marlene later, if not by Lily at the same time, but for that moment, they seemed to have gotten away with it. 

(The unnecessarily hard poke Mary had delivered to his spine in response suggested that they had not).

And all of that had lead to:

 𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖕 𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Underneath his blase and too-cool-for-this attitude, James was a good student. A lot of it was his natural desire to show off or his need to prove something to Professor McGonagall, but he did genuinely enjoy his schoolwork for the most part.

Unofficial Muggle Studies, however, was not where his talents lay.

Mary, to her credit, was doing the absolute best she could. Their usual table in the library was regularly covered with every book on Muggle customs she could find, many of which were wide open to the relevant pages. What they both hadn’t countered for, though, was how complicated everything then got.

“So the televisor-”

“Television.”

“It shows pictures? And they move like wizarding pictures?”

“Almost. They’re a video, so they move and have sound. There’s different channels, so different things can be playing at once. Like the news might be on, or a film, like how the wireless has different stations or programs.” 

“And the televisor-”

“Television.”

“Television. It uses ecclectrisity?”

“Electricity. And yeah. You plug the cord into the wall-socket, erm…”

There is a long pause as Mary flicks through the pages of a book, trying to find the correct diagram before angling it toward James, pressing her fingernail to each picture in turn. 

“This is a wall-socket where the electricity comes from, and this black tube is the cord, and then this on the end is the plug. The prongs-” James smirks. “-stop it, not your daft nickname. The electrical prongs go into the socket, and the outlet sends electricity to power the television. Following?”

The look on James’ face, however, suggests that she had lost him at the mention of his aforementioned daft nickname, and was not following her at all.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes and bop James on the head with a textbook at the same time, Mary chews listlessly on her bottom lip instead.

“I don’t really think you need to worry about knowing how the television works. Just don’t go all goggle-eyed at it if it gets turned on. Her family know you’re a wizard anyway, that you might not understand this stuff.”

James shrugs his shoulders in response. He wasn’t certain as to why he was so desperate to get their approval, other than wanting the Evans’ to understand that he wanted to be a part of their world as much as Lily was a part of his...of theirs.

“I s’pose,” he says listlessly, before shooting Mary a cheeky grin, one that she immediately seems to brace herself against. “How about instead of all this televisor and eccclectricty stuff, we go down to the pitch and practice that no-brooms Quidditch game you showed me?”

“I showed you two, and neither of them are called ‘no-brooms Quidditch’, James.”

“Fine. Please, oh wonderful Mary, can we please go down to the pitch and play soccer?”

“Do we have to?”

“It’s a teaching and learning opportunity.” 

Mary’s facial expression does nothing but express how little she believes what was coming out of James’ mouth, but she stands up, shaking her head regardless, a small smile playing at her mouth as she does so. At least he’d learnt something, she supposes. 

There’s an extra spring in James’ step as they leave the library, having neatly stacked their mess of books on the table behind them, and he can’t help but bump Mary’s shoulder fondly with his own as they walked. “What if we played soccer on brooms?” he asks eagerly, practically bounding down the stairs, much to Mary’s chagrin.

“James, that’s practically just Quidditch,” she splutters, moving to catch up, only to be greeted by a very wide and crooked James Potter smile. 

“That’s exactly the point,” he declares, and despite the fact she still thought him to be a bit of an idiot, Mary can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

Maybe, she supposes, they could be friends without the Lily-factor after all.

𝕖𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕟

[minsugapie]

Sleepover

 This is the birthday special for my sweet Min Suga 

(OMG THIS IS LIKE A MONTH LATE OOPS)

(fun fact: I started writing this two days before his birthday but forgot about it RIP. And today, when I was avoiding writing my long essay due on Friday, I came across this beauty. So, here it is. My bias very prominently shows in this…)

warning: very fluffy smut, fluff

~ 4500 words

You and Yoongi had been dating for two months now, and you had just asked him to spend the night —it would be the first night where either of you slept over. He was a very busy guy, with the band and all, and you were always at school or working. You’d just moved into your new apartment a week ago, out of your parent’s place, and you were already nervous enough as it was when you were around him. 

You had no idea why someone as talented and caring as him would’ve wanted to be with you. But alas, here you were, making sure that everything was clean and ready for him to come over. Cleaning was what came natural when you were stressed or nervous. You often found yourself cleaning the kitchen or scrubbing between the tiles in your shower with an old toothbrush when you were anxious. 

Your new place still hadn’t managed to get dirty, but that did not stop you from cleaning what was already spotless. Yoongi would be over within the hour, and now that you were sufficiently sweaty from cleaning, you knew you had to take a shower. There would be no way that you would greet him like that.

With your shower complete and a fresh batch of cookies in the oven (yes, you were that extra), you sat and waited for Yoongi to come. Vaguely, you wondered whether he would get lost on the way, or if any paparazzi would follow him here. He had a way of sneaking around without people noticing him, but you were still unknown to the world, so he would have to be careful. 

When you first met him, you didn’t even have any idea who he was. Sure, you’d heard of BTS (who hadn’t?), but you were not one to really follow them. Plus, you didn’t really have time to get too invested in anything with your endless piles of homework. This weekend was the start of your week off, so you allowed yourself a day alone with him without worrying about deadlines. 

The way you started dating wasn’t like in the movies where the OCs meet once and then hit it off. Actually, the first meeting was quite awkward because a) you were awkward in front of guys, b) you were in a rush, and c) you had a giant coffee stain on your shirt from a half an hour prior to the meeting. You were rushing to get to the bus stop, and he was walking in disguise with another band member. You stopped to tie your shoelace and when you got up, you accidentally knocked into him. Cliché, you know. 

But here’s the thing, nothing happened after that first encounter besides a bunch of apologies on your part and laughter on their part. 

Now, the second time you met, he just so happened to walk into the record store where you worked. Again, you didn’t look your best because it was just work. Yet this time, he had a bodyguard with him. He was still wearing his mask, but you could recognize his eyes anywhere. After all, you had been dreaming about them for weeks. He recognized you, which you knew he would because of how much of a mess you were, but he seemed like he thought you were charming. Even then, you were an awkward flirt. Furthermore, you were still unaware that he was an idol. 

“Why do you have a bodyguard with you?” You had asked when he came up to the register to pay. 

He had seemed genuinely surprised that you asked him that. “Umm, just in case something happens to me.”

“I know what the purpose of a body guard is,” you had teased, mentally praising yourself for forming a coherent flirty sentence, “but why do you need him?”

“You don’t know me?” He had asked, visibly confused. Hesitating, he took off his mask. You noticed the movement of the bodyguard, how he clearly did not approve of this. The guy had looked to the bodyguard and had said, “It’s fine.”

“Should I?” 

A smile had formed on his face, and you could have sworn that you had heard a small laugh come from his supple lips. “No. You shouldn’t. What’s your name?”

Pointing to your name tag, you smiled and asked, “Yours?”

Tilting his head to the side and pouting his lips, he answered, “Yoongi.”

“Well, I should apologize again for the first time we met, Yoongi. Please don’t judge me too harshly. It was a rough day,” you blushed profusely at your words. Even just thinking about the memory made you embarrassed. 

Before he could even react, however, there was a small commotion from outside the store, and immediately, the bodyguard was by Yoongi’s side. His mask was quickly placed back on his face. Grabbing his record quickly, he exited the shop, admitting, “I thought you were cute.”

Now, meeting someone once is whatever, meeting someone twice is coincidence, but meeting them a third time is just fate…

You were out for supper with your two best friends. It was your annual really expensive dinner to celebrate the beginning of the school year. You drank and ate as much as you wanted because you wouldn’t have a moment to yourself for another semester. 

You hadn’t ordered yet, buy you were on your second glass of wine when one of your friends gasped, “Holy shit. BTS is here.” She was very calm about it, whispering the words. She was not a fangirl either, but she knew who they were and enjoyed their music. 

Craning your head to see what she was looking at, you noticed a large group of people walking in, among them were seven impeccable men. They were all dressed so nicely, and you couldn’t see any of their faces clearly. The restaurant became silent as everyone waited for them to be seated. Your eyes followed the figured to a large reserved area. It wasn’t too far from your own table. 

When everyone had settled, you could finally make out faces. Seated in clear eyeshot from your seat was a face that you’d been eagerly wanting to see again. Yoongi was there, smiling beside a guy that was somehow able to be simultaneously extremely sexy and unexplainably cute. 

Taking a sip of your wine, the reality of the situation sunk in. The reason Yoongi had a bodyguard was because he was an idol. Not just any idol, he was a part of the biggest boyband in the world, and you didn’t even know. You had to laugh at yourself. You were ridiculous. 

“Who are you staring at?” Your other friend asked, craning her neck to get to your view. “Is it Suga or Jimin?”

“Who?” You’d never heard either of those names before in your life. 

She rolled her eyes, knowing you weren’t kidding.“Is it the guy with the blonde hair or the dark hair?”

“The dark hair,” you answered, not willing to look away in case it was a dream. He was still looking around the room aimlessly. You didn’t think you’d ever seen a man look so good. 

“That’s Suga. He’s kinda scary if you ask me,” she grimaced before continuing, “but he is hot.”

Scary? That was the last way you would describe him. 

Just as you were about to open your mouth and tell your friends about your multiple meetings with him, his eyes briefly connected with yours. They moved away before quickly moving back. He stared for a few seconds before a smile appeared on his face. You smiled back at him, forgetting about your two friends that were clearly witnessing the situation in front of them. 

When neither of you looked away from the other, the rest of BTS noticed. In fact, you saw all of their heads turn and look to see what was capturing Yoongi’s attention. You got six smiles before you decided that it was time to look away and back to your friends. 

“Helloooo, earth to y/n? Umm, do you mind sharing?” One of them asked, taking a sip of her drink. They were both visibly interested in whatever it was that you had to share. 

“Oh, well, I guess I’ve met Yoong…er…Suga before,” you shared, suddenly finding the napkin in your lap very interesting. 

“You almost just called him by his real name, and this is the first we hear about it because…?” Your other friend asked. It wasn’t really your fault that you hadn’t told them. Actually, you were quite private, so you didn’t tell your friends everything about your personal life. You much preferred to keep things to yourself. 

“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? We’ve met a couple of times, and I had no idea who he was.”

Whatever your friends said in response to your last sentence was lost because you found Yoongi’s eyes again. He was still looking at you. Vaguely, you wondered why he didn’t tell you who he was. 

The rest of that night was relatively calm, appart for all the stares that the two of you would steal. Neither of you were being coy, everyone aware of what was happening. Yoongi barely even spoke to his bandmates the whole time. Although apparently, he had managed to talk to somebody without you seeing because when you went to pay, you found that he had paid for it. And, if the bill wasn’t enough, you found three backstage passes to the concert that they were holding the next week. 

The concert marked the fourth time that you two would meet.

You hadn’t been able to keep your eyes off of him the entire time. Sure, they were performing well as a group, but the way that he rapped and held himself on stage had you completely entranced. You found yourself clinging to every word, wanting to know what he felt at the time of writing, how he managed to portray the emotion he showed while singing. Really, you just wanted to know everything about the guy that you could. 

Your friends were more excited about the entire concert than you were because you were really just there to meet Yoongi again; whereas, like you’d mentioned before, they were fans on their music. So when the concert was over, and it was time to head backstage, you found yourself slightly nervous. This wasn’t the first time you were meeting him, so you didn’t know why you were that nervous. 

When you’d been escorted backstage, apparently, you had been requested to be the last one that the band met, so you had to wait for everyone to be done before you were even allowed in the room where they were. It was finally your time, and you had almost decided to just book it out of there and forget that any of this had happened. However, once you saw Yoongi’s face among the rest, you knew that you were there for a reason. 

You, along with your friends, met all the boys one by one. They were all very nice, but you could tell that they were curious about you. Only one, Hoseok, you found out his name later by googling it, had seen you before that night in the restaurant. 

As soon as you stood in front of Yoongi, time seemed to stop. 

“Hi,” he said, a small smile gracing his lips. 

“Hi,” you replied, mimicking his expression. 

“You came.”

“You gave me the tickets, so why wouldn’t I?” You joked, poking him playfully. You didn’t know why you thought you were at the level to touch him, but he seemed fine with it. In fact, touching him made you feel warm inside. 

“Yah, just ask her already,” one of the boys impatiently complained. 

Yoongi seemed unfazed by what was said; his eyes never left yours. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I want to keep seeing you again and again and again. If you’re okay with that?”

Smiling, you prayed that whatever you said would come out sounding normal and that your body language would not be that awkward. The whole room was silent, waiting for your response. You were surprised that everybody was chill with what was happening. You were under the impression that most idol’s couldn’t date. “Why?”

You were such an idiot. Here was this gorgeous man, standing in front of you, basically asking to date you, and you asked why!

He was slightly taken aback by the question, clearly waiting for you to agree. “Oh, umm, well,” he hesitated, scratching the back of his neck from nervousness before continuing, “you had no idea who I was when we met and again the second time, and ugh do I really have to answer that? Can’t a guy just ask a girl out without questions?”

Gaining a laugh from a couple of the boys, you nodded your head. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean it! It just came out. I want to see you again and again and again too.”

It took you quite some time to get completely comfortable with the fact that you had a boyfriend, let alone the fact that it was a hidden relationship and that the only dates you were allowed to go on consisted of you sneaking into the dorms or BigHit to spend some time with him. You couldn’t be seen. He’d come over to your house once before, but that turned out to be a big disaster, so you avoided the house. 

It was hard on your relationship, but after asking all the appropriate people, you were finally granted a night alone with him. There would be no bandmates, no management, and no bodyguards. It was just you, Yoongi, and your apartment…and the cookies that you were currently taking out of the oven. 

A knock on your door brought all your thoughts back to the present. He was finally here. You practically ran to the door to greet him. When you opened the door, you were instantly met with his hidden face. He had a mask and a cap on, trying to hide as much of himself as possible. You grabbed his free hand, dragging him inside. The second the door was slammed shut, he dropped his duffle bag. In haste, you were the one that took off his mask before he had the time to do it himself. 

You pushed yourself against him, connecting your lips. You didn’t care that he looked like he came directly from practice or that neither of you had even said one word to one another. You hadn’t seen him properly in over two weeks, and you missed him. Taking your face in both of his hands, he held you to him tightly, breathing in through the kisses. “It smells so good in here,” he commented between kisses, smiling. 

“I made cookies,” you replied, pushing the hat off his head, so you could run your fingers through his hair. 

Before anything drastic could happen, Yoongi pushed you back, letting his hands move from your face down to your hips. His touches set you on fire, and you knew deep down that the thing of both of your minds would be the outcome of tonight. Because you were never alone, you’d never had time or privacy to do anything intimate. There was always a chance of someone walking in, even in his studio. 

“Did you have any trouble getting here?” You asked, finally letting go of him and picking up his bag, bringing it to your bedroom. 

He followed behind you, answering, “It’s pretty close to the dorms, so it was easy.”

“You weren’t seen?”

“No,” he breathed, cocking his head to the side and looking at your awkward body position. You were standing board straight with your hands clenched on front of you.

“I’m glad.” You stood at the corner of your bed, waiting for him to do something to break up the awkwardness. He looked like he was deeply thinking about something. Honestly, the only thing you were thinking about was him in your bed. You’d yet to do it with him, and you wanted desperately for it to happen tonight. 

“Ok,” he started, walking towards you, “I have to do this now otherwise I won’t be able to pay attention to anything you say to me all night,” he finished with a whisper. When he was right in front of you, he swiftly guided you back onto the bed, settling between your legs. 

Biting your lip, you looked up at him with hooded eyes. You were glad that he was on the same page as you. “Yoongi, please, I want you right now,” you whispered, wrapping your legs around his waist and bringing him flush onto your body, waists pressed together.

Groaning, he quickly closed the distance between the two of you, lips crushing yours with uncontrolled fervour. You’d made out with him many times in both his studio and at the dorms, but never like this. It felt different being alone with him without the possibility of somebody walking in on you. Sure, doing your homework in the studio while he wrote, providing inspiration (as he once revealed in a drowsy state), was fun, but you’d waited long enough for this alone time with him. 

Your last boyfriend had been a jerk and was often degrading and unfulfilling during sex, so you were needy. You could tell by the way that Yoongi teated you as a boyfriend that the sex with him would be better. He seemed in control of all situations, all the time. 

But between heated kisses, when he revealed, “I don’t do this often,” you were surprised. 

Pulling back from him, you looked into his eyes, seeing the hesitation. “What do you mean?”

“Only one other time since before debut. I-I just never found someone I wanted before you…” He admitted, averting your gaze and letting a hand travel down your arm to your hip and then back up your waist toward your breast. His touch was feather-light.

You expected him to be confident and sure, much like his rap, but he seemed shy. He really was such a surprise. You wanted to get started, but he was also so important to you that you needed to let him get his feelings out, no matter how hard it may have been for him. “Don’t worry, Yoongi. I know it will be great.”

“How?” His insecurity was really starting to show, so when he made the move to take his hand off of your body, you grabbed it and guided it under your shirt and up to your breast again. 

“Because I care about you more than I’ve cared about any of the other people I’d been with,” you assured him, placing a kiss on his lips and adjusting beneath him, “accidentally” brushing against his crotch. You wanted to kick start the moment again. 

With the accident you just caused, there was a shift in his expression, and he became more confident and less reserved. You needed tongue technology Yoongi right now and not baby boy Yoongi (not that you didn’t love and appreciate both). 

You knew that you got what you needed when he straightened up and took off your shirt. His eyes roamed around your body for what felt like an eternity before he whispered in your ear, “You asked for it, baby.”

The whisper sent shivers across your body. His lips brushed your jaw for a short second before for attached them to your neck. His kisses were hot and wet all the way down your neck to your chest. His hands were expertly finding their way around to the back of your bra to unclasp it but before he could, you wanted to tease him a bit. You smirked and pushed him back from you, a confused expression on his face. 

When you tugged at his long-sleeved shirt, he understood and quickly removed the article of clothing. He was surprised when you flipped him over and pushed his hair back, placing kisses all over his face —on his forehead, on his eyelids, on his cheeks, on the corners of his lips— before cheekily placing the softest kiss on his lips and beginning to grind down onto him. His hands eagerly gripped your thighs and firmly held you down onto his hips. 

God, you’d wanted him for way too long, you might’ve argued since that day with the coffee stain on your shirt. Your hands were tracing patterns on his chest and abdomen, and you could tell he was enjoying it by the hum in his throat and his heaving breathing. He was already so hard beneath you that you thought it was a good time to move your fingers down to the opening of his pants. However, as soon as your fingers fiddled with the zipper, his eyes flew open, and he flipped you over so you were under him again. 

“Not me, not yet,” he said, instead moving his fingers down to your jeans and popping the button. You bit your lip, anticipation building. When Yoongi’s fingers slipped into your pants, he wasted no time and entered you, clearly being able to feel how wet you were for him but choosing not to comment on it. You hadn’t expected him to talk much, being such an introvert and quiet. 

“Oh, my god, Yoongi,” you breathed, squeezing your eyes shut and arching into his touch, hands desperately trying to find something to cling onto. 

“Look at me,” he requested, surprising you. Your eyes instantly find his. His knees were pushing your legs father apart, and you were in desperate need of more friction. As much as it felt good, his fingers stretching you, trying to find your sweet spot, it was making you more frustrated than anything. 

“Yoongi, please,” you begged, wanting what you wanted. You didn’t care if you had to bed. You wanted him inside you right now. You don’t even wait for his reaction or answer before you’re taking off his pants. 

He starts to laugh at your eagerness, teasing you. 

“Don’t.” You laugh back at him in frustration. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long. I can’t wait any longer.”

“What happened to my cute but awkward around me y/n?” He asked, finally pulling down his pants. You don’t answer him, distracted, clearly. You swallow once, eyes coming back to his face. 

“She’s needy,” you managed to form this sentence while he reached down into his bag and pull out a condom. At the sight of it, your breathing became uneven, pulling down your pants as fast as your flustered self would let you. 

He was positioned at your entrance the second he finished putting on the condom, and with the look in his eyes, you were certain that he would demand your eye contact once again, so you didn’t dare look away or close your eyes. Yoongi easily slid inside you, groaning as you clenched around him. Your legs hooked around his, keeping him against you as you adjusted to him.

“Fuck,” he swore, all composure slipping as he braced held himself up on both elbows. His eyes were still on yours, and you couldn’t help but feel both intimidated and loved by the intensity of he look. His breathing was uneven, shoulders shaking, before you finally loosened the grip of your legs, finally letting him move inside you. He took it slow at first, lips brushing yours with every thrust, but you could only take this pace for so long. 

“Go faster,” you whispered, hands moving under his arms up to his shoulders. You forced his face onto yours, lips moving against his sloppily. 

You used your legs to help guide the pace of his thrusts, revelling in the feel of him perfectly filling you up while bruising your lips. He wasn’t a fool. You knew he was at least slightly experienced when you felt one of his hands move down to help get your to your climax. Already, there was no comparison between him and your ex. He felt one of your hands move from his shoulder and down to his hand. At this, he disconnected your lips, catching your gaze. 

You confidently held his eye contact as you guided his fingers to work as his thrusts became deeper and harder. Your breath was laboured as you desperately tried to close your legs and ride your orgasm, but a bigger part of you wanted this to last so much longer. By the bulging vein in his neck and the now completely desperate pace, you knew that he was close. 

Yoongi looked beautiful when he orgasmed, especially since he refused to break eye-contact with you. It was a new experience, being so intimately connected to someone like that. He knew you were still fighting for your release, so he resumed his actions that were briefly halted. It wasn’t long until you were unravelling below him, holding him as tightly to you as you possibly could, probably making very clear marks across his back. 

When you were finished, he simply let his weight fall onto you, catching both of your breaths. You stayed like that, a comforting position, for a few minutes before your untangled your legs from his, pushing his body off. You laid facing each other for a moment before he cracked a smile. He didn’t smile too often, so having seen that beautiful gummy smile of his was such a blessing. You couldn’t help but smile back at him, letting a laugh escape from between your lips. 

His hands came up and brushed your hair back from your face.

“I feel like I have to say thank you,” he awkwardly admitted, looking around your face to avoid your eyes. A minute ago he was all about the eye-contact and now he was acting so shy. He was actually the cutest. 

“You’re welcome and Happy Birthday,” you joked, pushing yourself up to find your panties which were still on the end of the bed. Slipping them on quickly, you stood up. “Now, as much as I want to chat, the night is still young and I really want to wash up.”

Yoongi simply watched as you walked out of the room with a fresh pair of underwear and one of his sweatshirts that you’d stolen from the dorms the last time you’d been there. 

After you both showered and cleaned up, you decided to order some food and watch movies on the couch. It was still early in the night, so you didn’t want to sleep just yet. Knowing Yoongi, he would, however. In fact, not ten minutes into your movie, he was laying in your lap as you played with his hair, soft sighs escaping his tired lips as he slept. The day must have taken so much out of him. The two of you hadn’t done much talking after having sex, but just laying with him and having him as company all to yourself was enough. You wouldn’t never take these quiet moments together for granted. 

Although your relationship was still relatively new, you couldn’t picture your life without the talented rapper. You were glad that you didn’t know who he was when you first met him because it may have changed your opinion of him. However, ever since knowing him, you’d watched all the videos on him that you could find on the internet. It was both a blessing and a curse because it just made you miss him more when he was not there with you. 

“I love you, Min Yoongi,” you whispered, leaning down to place a kiss on his nose. You could have sworn that you saw a small smile appear on his lips.  

[artisticvicu]

Can’t stop, won’t stop

The schoolyard was full of children laughing and screaming. A glance would see nothing more than happy children but a keen eye or someone that had once been part of the outskirts would be able to pick out the kids that were faking it, the ones that didn't have friends, the ones that were ostracized by their own age group.

He hit the pavement hard. The unforgiving surface bit into his arms and hands, his body instinctively reacting by filling his vision with tears and quaking under the onslaught of pain. The small gaggle of kids that had slammed into him - or, more specifically, the gaggle of kids following the brute that had shoved him to the ground for no other reason than a laugh - seemed to swarm behind his aggressor, laughing and cooing words that stung. He blinked back what tears he could but there were too many in his eyes and they escaped without his permission as he glared up at all of them.

"Crybaby! Crybaby!" the gaggle chanted, the aggressor's grin growing broader and broader.

Said aggressor took a few steps forward and leaned forward. "Aw, what's wrong, Newman? Trip over your own shoelaces?" The gale of laughter ebbed with the gaggle. Not a single face held guilt or sympathy. There was no one coming to aid him. "Don't you know how to tie those?" His aggressor straightened, looking back at the gaggle. "Oh, that's right. You never had anyone to show you how."

It felt like his insides were on fire with the desire to hurt but he knew that he couldn't do that again. Tears still streaming down his face, he shoved himself back up to his feet as the gaggle walked away.

He planted his feet as Unna had taught him to and balled his fists. The pain from his hands got worse and he used it as the reminder he needed.

"Hey Beckett!" The gaggle stopped but didn't still. His aggressor was the only one stagnant as their eyes met. He knew he shouldn't push but he was sick and tired of being thrown around like some rag doll.

"At least someone back home loves me!"

Something dark flickered across the other's face and the gaggle became a threatening shadow behind Beckett. It was all he could do to swallow down the bitter taste of regret.

He blinked, sucking in a breath. It hurt as it stuttered in his chest as he watched the gaggle walk away. Fighting through the scratching in his chest, he tried again.

"Hey Beckett!" The gaggle stopped but didn't still. His aggressor was the only one stagnant as their eyes met. He blinked, testing the words before letting them go.

"Unna's making spaghetti," tumbled past his lips. "There's always leftovers so there's plenty for you to have some if you want to come over. Unna also just got me a new basketball hoop. I don't have a new ball like you but I have one we could use."

The gaggle was still swarming behind his aggressor but it had become sedated, unsure.

Beckett stared at him.

He shrugged. His arms throbbed. "If you want to come, Unna picks me up at the back corner of the parking lot."

"I know," Beckett spat but the trill of it sounded off.

He turned and started for the nurse's office.

Someone was standing in his designated pickup spot and he had to force his feet to keep a steady beat against the cement. There, standing in his spot, was Beckett and the other looked strange without the gaggle of kids following behind.

Anxiety bit into his chest as hard as any repercussion.

Beckett jumped when he settled at their side. "Unna's almost here. I can see the car from here."

Beckett's gaze naturally followed his to the line of cars entering the school parking lot for kid pickup. A sedan in decent condition and in a desperate need of a bath broke away from the flow of traffic and started for them. It came to a stop at the curb and he walked over to the trunk as the hood popped. "You can toss your bag in here," he offered as he did just that.

He left Beckett to decide as he opened the back door and clambered in, announcing, "Beckett's coming over, if that's still ok."

His Unna looked to him before glancing to Beckett out the back window as the other kid closed the trunk. "Did they get permission from their parents?"

He shrugged. Beckett started to climb in as he turned to ask. "Did you ask if you could come?"

Beckett froze.

He frowned and blinked. He fought the urge to gasp for breath as a sedan in decent condition and in a desperate need of a bath came to a stop at the curb. He walked over to the trunk as the hood popped, offering, "You can toss your bag in here with mine, if you want."

He dropped his bag into the awaiting compartment and took a step to the side. Beckett only seemed to hesitate for a moment before their bag joined his and he closed the trunk with a resounding thud.

"Unna's gonna want to know if you have permission to come over," he gently warned as he walked to the door. Beckett followed but didn't say anything.

He opened the back door and slid in, scooting over so that Beckett could follow. "Hi, Unna. This is Beckett Parker."

Unna shifted in the driver's seat enough to meet Beckett's gaze. "Hello, Beckett. I'm Angel, Jamie's Unna. How long will you be staying with us?"

Beckett shook their head. "My parents work late so I just have to be home by dark."

"Will you need a ride?"

Beckett shook their head again.

Unna's sharp gaze turned on him and if his chest hadn't already been hurting, it would have constricted in fear. "We will talk when we get home."

He should have known better than to think his Unna wouldn't have noticed.

The drive was quiet, barring the low music from the radio. The sun was warm through the back window but he barely noticed. It was all he could do to keep his breathing as normal as he could get away with as his heart seemed to be attempting an escape through his rib cage. 

"Hey, Newman," Beckett whispered. "You ok?"

Apparently not normal enough. He caught Unna glancing his way through the rear view mirror. "Yeah, why?" he tried.

"Your breathing kind of funny."

The car stilled as the red light shone through the front window over the car ahead of them. A smile big and fake plastered itself on his face. "I'm fine. Was seeing how long I could hold my breath to pass the time."

Beckett didn't believe him.

He didn't get the chance to try and convince them.

Someone's horn suddenly blared to life and he brought his head around in time to see a car speed into the intersection from the opposite direction.

There was no time for the big rig driver to hit the breaks.

He sucked in a breath as the car was sent into the one in front of them and the semi came careening towards them.

His chest was on fire. He curled in on himself as deep, bone wrenching coughs tore at the air he couldn't get enough of.

A sedan in decent condition and in a desperate need of a bath came to a stop at the curb.

"James," curled around him as a soft touch passed through his hair. It probably wasn't the first time it had done that as it did it again. "Breathe."

He sucked in a rattling breath. It came out as a cough, too. 

"Again."

He sucked in another breath. This time his lungs filled with it without rejecting it and he let the air out in a rush only to suck more in greedily.

"That's it." A sob choked him. "That's my good boy."

"Unna," he wailed. "Unna, I couldn't-I didn’t- I didn't mean to. Unna, I'm sorry."

Unna's arms tightened around him. "It's ok. You did the right thing. It'll be alright."

"Miss…ah, Miss Angel?" It was Beckett's voice. "What just happened?"

He felt his Unna shift around him but the arms holding him tight didn't let go. "Once we're in the car. He's done it too many times too close together for it to be safe. Don't worry, I won't take you home till you have what answers we can share."

There was silence for long enough that he thought Beckett had followed Unna's soft spoken command but then Beckett's voice drifted to him again. "Will he be ok?"

He felt the faint chuckle that rolled through Unna's chest. "As long as he doesn't do it again, yes. Now," Unna grunted as he was pulled off the ground; he tried to hide the spasm of pain shooting through his chest from the motion, "if you would be so kind as to grab his bag for me, I'll get him in the car and us on our way."

Unna placed him carefully in his seat but he still hissed in pain as he was placed and buckled in.

Unna's hand was steady in his hair. "Just a bit longer, James."

He nodded against the touch.

The car shifted into drive with ease. It was several minutes later when he realized they were going the same route. Panic flared in his chest even as his mind screamed at him that Unna knew.

"Unna," he choked out as Beckett exclaimed to his utter surprise, "We can't go this way!"

He looked over, eyes wide despite how his chest hurt to find Beckett gripping at both front seats with white knuckles.

Unna looked to the other child as the car came to a stop at red light. A different one from the one they had been caught at prior, one far sooner than that one. "It'll be ok, Beckett. James has delayed us enough. We won't get caught in it again."

Beckett stared at his Unna with terror edged into their face. Beckett swallowed thickly, glancing at him briefly before asking, "How….why do I…"

Whatever Beckett had wanted to ask died on their tongue. He wondered if it was for a loss of words or too many questions to ask at once.

The light turned green and Beckett sat back as the car started forward.

"Beckett," Unna spoke, voice even but thick with warning, "what I am about to share with you must not leave this car. If you speak to anyone that I have not told you knows, there will be consequences that I cannot protect you from." Unna met Beckett's gaze through the rear view mirror. "Do you understand?"

Beckett's gaze flickered to him but he had nothing to offer.

It had been a long time since his chest had hurt like this.

Why didn't he learn?

"Yes," Beckett replied, voice quaking.

"Good." The car slowed as the traffic thickened to a stop. "Do you know what happened to us?"

Beckett shifted in the seat. "We went back in time?"

Unna smiled encouragingly. "Similar, but not quite. James rewinds time, or resets it to a point. He's gotten better at controlling when to he resets but sometimes he doesn't have much choice." Unna's gaze flickered to him in the rear view mirror. "Often he keeps it to only a few seconds, maybe a minute. Any longer than that and it puts a strain on his body. Or, more specifically, his heart."

"Why his heart?" Beckett cut in.

"We're not sure," he explained, sinking back into his seat a bit more. The pain was slowly ebbing. That or he was getting used to it. He wasn't overly picky. "They think it has something to do with how the ability is stored in my body or that it could be some natural limiter that keeps me in check."

Beckett's attention went to Unna. "Do you have the same ability?"

The smile that pulled at Unna's lips was endearing and a bit sad. "No. I have a different ability but it isn't very useful when it comes to helping James."

"What is it?"

"Remembering."

Beckett frowned. "I don't understand."

Unna's expression turned thoughtful despite the expectant look in the gaze locked onto Beckett. "Do you remember the reset?"

Beckett opened their mouth but no words were forthcoming. He leaned his head back, expecting that. There were echoes if the ending point of the last reset was severe enough, but the only one that had ever remembered was Unna.

"Can you teach me how?"

He opened his eyes, looking at Beckett's determined face.

"Why?" Unna asked, curious; he parroted, confused.

Beckett looked at him. "Because I want to help."

"Can you see them?"

He pressed a hand over the earpiece to hear better. "Yeah," he confirmed. "Only two and the target, though."

"Anything you can do?"

"Not till you go in, like normal," he drawled, amused.

A huff from the other end but there was a touch of amusement in it. "Fine. Just don't let me get killed in there."

"Yeah, yeah," he assured them, even as those words jabbed at old wounds.

He watched his partner dash in, showboating like none other. One of the extras went down but the other and the target were very good at holding their own.

"Resetting," he warned.

He didn't wait for a confirmation as he blinked, taking in a breath as he reoriented.

"Who do I take out first?"

It eased the slight tension in his chest when their words were nothing like they had been. Every time he reset, he feared he would lose the one person that could remember. "The one on the far side. Move in, move quick. Don't showboat. It does you no good."

"Understood."

He watched and waited. Sure enough, later than before, his partner appeared dropping down on the one extra that had kept up with the initial attack. His partner's attack was solid, knocking the extra out cold.

"Target," he barked. "We'll play Hopscotch with the other."

"Don't kill me."

Heavy words spoken out of true concern despite their full trust in him made his heart hurt. "Just remember and I won't," he retorted, offering with it silently how much he meant that.

His partner went in for the target but again, the target held its own. The still conscious extra did its best to get in the way but he did mini resets, a second here, two there, each enough to give his partner enough time to adjust to what was coming and use it against the extra.

He caught sight of the blade before it buried itself in his partner's side.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

"I'm ok," crackled into his earpiece and he let the breath go.

"Are you sure?" he asked, heart racing.

"You reset. I'm fine." A pause. "Target first?"

He nodded despite them not being able to see. "Target first."

This time when his partner dropped in, the target was out cold first.

The other two were taken out just as quickly.

He leapt from his hiding spot and felt their arms around him before gravity even had a hold on him. Solid ground met the bottom of his feet and they grabbed at his wrist, pressing his palm against their side where they had been stabbed. "See? No stab wound."

The words were echoed in his earpiece but he was used to it. He nodded, smiling weakly. "I'm going to get you killed one of these days."

They barked a laugh. "Only after I drag you down with me. Besides, it'll take a lot more than that to stop me. Can't stop, won't stop, not till you're no longer there to watch my back."

"And you've got mine?"

They huffed a laugh. "Always, Newman," they teased. "Now come on. We've got to bag these guys before reinforcements show up."

He followed after them.

"Wow."

He looked up from the file he was reading, intrigued. "What?"

His partner looked over at him from the wall calendar they were staring at. "Can you believe it's been 16 years now?"

He frowned, putting the file down. "16 years since…" he prompted.

"Since the truck incident all those years ago," they explained. "With your Unna."

He blinked.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess it has, hasn't it?" he commented. He was stunned in all honesty. He hadn't kept track of time very well. His ability always did make keeping track of time weird. "And that was, what, only a few years before your ability showed?"

His partner hummed an affirmation. "I still don't know how Anna was so patient with me. I was worse than the rookies."

"Unna's always had a strange sort of patience," he agreed. "Still, I'm glad you agreed to come to my house that day, Beckett." He looked at the other, a soft smile pulling at his lips. "I'm not sure I would have made it this far without you."

Beckett grinned at him, all teeth despite the care in their gaze. "Oh please. You'd have lived till you were 100 even if I had walked away."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. If you say so."

He led the way back into the main area of the hero headquarters they were stationed with. Heroes of all sorts milled about or passed through to complete some task. He gave none of them much heed as he made his way to the front door.

He couldn’t quite grasp why there was a ringing in his ears.

Smoke choked him. That was the first thing he realized when he started to re-orientate himself with the world. When his brain started making sense of what he could see, terror flared through him just as much as his apprehension started to quickly spiral into anxiety.

"Beckett!" he called out, choking on the name. "Beckett!"

There was screaming, shouting, sirens. There was so much going on that he couldn't even piece together what had even happened. But he found Beckett.

It felt like his heart stopped.

"Beckett!" he screamed, rushing to their side. His ability was like needles under his skin but he knew that resetting without knowing wasn't going to help. So, instead, he started figuring out what he could do.

It was easy finding what to move first so that Beckett didn't end up more crushed as he removed rubble from on top of them. It only got harder when the villain appeared.

"It would seem I've found another little hero."

The voice shot ice down his spine and he whipped around, coming face to face with someone he hadn't thought to still be alive.

The villain's grin grew sharp. "And it seems I'm in luck. I've been looking for you, my little Save Point."

"Eros," he spat. "What are you doing here, alive?"

The villain spread his arms wide, the grin looking as if it would split the other's face. "You wound me, Jamie! I came to check on how my little boy was doing, to see how well my little Save Point has grown."

"I'm not your save point," he snarled.

Eros's fingers were digging into his cheeks before he could blink, hand pressed to the underside of his jaw and forcing his head back. "Oh, you have it all wrong, little Jamie-boy. You are my Save Point and you will do as I say if you want the world to survive."

"You won't remember anything I do," he bluffed. He didn't know that. He didn't know this man.

"Oh, but you're wrong," Eros assured him, and suddenly pain flared in his side. "I remember every." The pain intensified. "Little." Again. "Reset." And again. "And now you're going to reset us right back to the day you escaped my grasp the first time."

He gasped, trying to hold onto what was going on as the pain tried to take over. "What do you mean?"

"Had you not reset, I would have ended your precious Unna's life and taken you back into custody. But you just had to see the car speed through that blasted intersection," the pain suddenly tripled to emphasis the words, "and the damn truck heading your way. If I had just been a few minutes faster," another burst of pain, "then it would have worked."

They had just been talking about it, hadn't they? He and Beckett. How was it that they had managed to be talking about that day, of all days, and here he was facing his father who had wanted to use his abilities since he was born. He felt his ability churn under his skin and he wondered just how far back he could throw them, how far back his reset could reach.

Eros was still talking but he wasn't listening any more. Farther and farther he reached as he felt his life slowly drain from his side. Farther and farther he pushed, pushing back to that faithful day.

He was glad he had met Beckett.

He hoped Unna would forgive him in time.

He opened his eyes.

The unforgiving surface bit into his arms and hands, his body instinctively reacting by filling his vision with tears and quaking under the onslaught of pain. The small gaggle of kids that had slammed into him - or, more specifically, the gaggle of kids following the brute that had shoved him to the ground for no other reason than a laugh - seemed to swarm behind his aggressor, laughing and cooing words that had once stung. Numb to it all, he looked up, searching for a specific face from the crowd before him.

"Crybaby! Crybaby!" the gaggle chanted.

His aggressor wasn't grinning.

"I…Jamie?" Beckett spoke out, confusion and disbelief heavy with those two words. The gaggle fell silent and still.

He offered a weak smile. "I'm sorry Beckett. It was the only thing I could think of."

"Jamie, I don't-" They shook their head, taking a step forward. "How? Why?!"

"Eros."

Beckett hissed.

"Beckett." They met his gaze, their worry for him almost palpable. "Will you tell Unna that I'm sorry?"

Whatever color had filled Beckett's face slipped away as that sank it. Tears filled those eyes he had grown so accustom to seeing joyous, mischievous, that it made his heart hurt. "James, don't."

He offered a tight smile. "This way, he can't win."

"Jamie, please!"

"You'll tell Unna for me, won't you?"

They were there, arms wrapped tight around him, and the world jerked in a way that he had long since grown used to. How Beckett had the finite control to get them safely to Unna's side was breathtaking. He was sad he was going to miss out on that.

He looked up, not used to being in an eight-year-old's body after having grown out of it. He found his Unna there, alive and well, mouth covered by a shaking hand and tears streaming down a face he hadn't realized he had forgotten details of despite the photos he had kept.

"Unna," he started.

There was no pain. His threshold had grown to the point that pain only came in small amounts now. This, though, was like something snapped within him.

The last thing he saw was Unna and Beckett crying over him as he was swallowed by darkness.

[melalot]

Confused Pt 1 [Rewritten]

I rewrote this chapter, and a lot did change! The beginning not so much, but the reason in the rewrite was that I thought I could write this better? And I left out a bunch of things that I felt like were needed in the story. I'm sorry for the long wait, but hopefully, I can get the last chapter out soon! Feedback is always appreciated!

Ao3 link

8 Years Old Lance was having recess outside in the school playground when he saw a group of kids circling around this boy. He noticed how all of the students seemed very interested in what one of his classmates had to say with the way their heads would lean in closer to the sound of his voice, and the way their eyes never left the boys face. He had never seen so many kids listen to someone this way, not even the teachers. Curiosity got the best of him so he trotted his way over to see what was getting everyone’s attention. When he got close enough to listen, the boy said, "And they told me they were gay!" Lance thought to himself. Gay? What does that mean? As if someone had read his mind, another kid asked, "What is that? What does gay mean?" The boy who was sharing this new word look at his classmate and began to explain. "It's when two boys date, like a girl and a boy, do. But my mom told me it wasn't normal and that it wasn't okay." Everyone's eyes went wide, they had never heard about two boys dating. Lance had never heard of this either, he doesn't even think much of dating, he's only 8. Before the conversation could continue the teachers started calling out to the students meaning that recess was over and instruction time was going to start again. As Lance started getting in alphabet order to line up for class, he couldn't help but think about what he just heard. It isn't natural the boy had said. It's not okay, the boys' words repeated in his head. And Lance thought to himself, why is it not? 

xxxxxxxx 12 Years Old Lance was in 6th grade now. While all the other kids went to a regular middle school, he went to attend the Galaxy Garrison. Lance had always dreamed of becoming a fighter pilot and flying a spaceship to Mars. He got lucky enough to get into the Garrison. But, even though it was a school to prepare you to go up into Space, you still had to take the same curriculum you would normally take in a typical school. And honestly, Lance appreciated that. He needed something that grounded him to normality. He needed to be busy with work that wouldn’t be about the same thing constantly and that wouldn’t bore him to death. He had to feel like he could fit in with those that were outside of this small cramped up facility. He wanted to know about more than just Space. He wanted to endure the same struggles the people outside of the Garrison would. He didn’t want to be different. Things seemed to be going how Lance had hoped for with things being normal.

On his first day of attending the Garrison Lance had laid his eyes on this girl with shiny, short black hair and glimmering emerald eyes. His heart thumped rapidly, and suddenly he lost focus of his surroundings. This girl was cute. Lance wanted to talk to her but, the bell had rung before he could have a chance. Lance thought about what his older brother Marco had told him before he started school. He said something about him entering the age of girls and crushes and that eventually, he is going to fall for one. And being Marco, he gave him some flirting tips, and how to win a girl over. Lance didn’t think much of it at first. He thought Marco was crazy. But, then his family had chimed in and said how he must prepare. Then he thought, that maybe it wasn’t so crazy, and they were truly trying to help.

But other than his crush on Jenny, Lance had encountered bigger problems.

By that he means puberty.

And he just learned how puberty is a real bitch. Recently Lance had gone to the beach with a couple of his new friends from the Garrison. Lance had always been a social guy, he always had friends. So going out to the beach wasn’t anything new to him.

What was new to him, was this new feeling.

When his friends had hit the sand, Lance had followed behind them. They were all so eager to get in the water to cool down from the nasty heat.

He slid off his shoes and started to peel his shirt off but, something had stopped him.

Right in front of him were his friends. They were shirtless. And Lance didn’t really know why, but he started to stare. Something about seeing a bunch of guys with their shirts off and the sun hitting their skin making it glisten had set something off in Lance, and he didn’t exactly know why, other than the fact that his trunks felt really uncomfortable now.

He snapped out of his thoughts and removed his shirt while turning himself around at the same time, trying to not face the direction his friends were in. He didn’t want them to see the visible hard on going on in his shorts, so he tried to distract himself with setting up the food and towels until his boner went down.

He didn’t know why he reacted that way. He had always seen guys shirtless, what was new about it now?

Lance decided to blame it on puberty and hormones for making his body react in such a hormonal way. He felt better placing the blame on something else.

xxxxxxxx Ever since that incident at the beach, Lance dreaded the times they would have to change in the locker room. He would try not to look at other guys and became rather uncomfortable with himself yet, he found himself scared. He feared that someone would catch him staring at the other guys and that he wouldn’t recover from it fast enough. So, Lance had found a solution which was to often look at the ground and at his own shoes instead of focusing on the others. Lance was finishing up the knot of his shoelaces when he felt someone slide themselves on the bench and next to him. He stopped the movement of his fingers and looked up to see who it was. He recognized him as Tim from his algebra class. They had talked a couple of times but, not much, they usually had minimal conversations when training since they had known each other in a different class. He tried for a smile. “Hey Tim, what’s up?” Tim grinned back, but it quickly faltered as his smile had become rather uncomfortable. “Hey Lance, I just wanted to ask you about something.” “Sure, what is it?” Lance asked. Tim’s eyes looked across and he pointed at a boy with black hair and pale skin, though Lance could only see him from the back and couldn’t really tell who it was. “Doesn’t it make you kind of uncomfortable?” Lance’s eyebrows drew together as he really didn’t understand what this guy was getting at. “What would?” Tim cleared his throat and looked around awkwardly, “You know…He’s gay and he is in the boy's locker room, doesn’t it make you think he might try something?” Oh my God. Oh my god. Lance couldn’t believe he was hearing this. Hearing it on the news and seeing it in articles was one thing, but experiencing it in person made Lance sick to his stomach. How could someone be so inconsiderate and insensitive? This was exactly why Lance faced his shoes when he was in the locker room. Because of people like him. He wanted to tell the kid he is wrong for thinking that, and that he should mind his own business. But, he felt like something was preventing him, and he didn’t know what. So instead he just looked at the boy and back at Tim. “Nah, chill dude, just mind your own business and ignore him and nothing will happen.” Lance finished tying his shoes and rushed over to the track field, angry with that kid, and angry at himself for not saying how he truly felt. He didn’t know why he felt so angry. Maybe it was on behalf of that boy. However, what he did know now was that he didn’t want to deal with that bullshit. xxxxxxxx 13-14 Years Old It was that time in the school year where kids would have to strengthen their skills on argumentative essays.  All the students in Lance’s class would have to think of a topic they could argue about, then they would turn it into the teacher in a sticky note. Lance being Lance had procrastinated when he was given this assignment about two weeks ago. He was down to limited time and had to find a topic fast since it was due the following day.

When he arrived at his dorm room, he saw how his roommate wasn’t there. Which he was thankful for, he didn’t want any distractions. So he pulled out his laptop and began searching topics on google. It was when he came across the LGBT section that something drew him in. He looked to both sides of his room and checked the hallway to make sure no one was around. Once it was clear that no one was around, he proceeded to do his search. Doing this made Lance think back to the times he would watch YouTube videos of LGBT people. He liked learning about what they were going through and wanted to have somewhat of an understanding of what they go went through so that maybe one day if someone needed it, He could be that someone that could empathize with them. But doing this also reminded Lance of how he would have multiple tabs open to switch around in case one of his parents or siblings happened to peek at his screen. Since his family mainly knew Spanish, they couldn’t really read what he was doing. But seeing something on a screen? They probably would know what he was doing. Lance hated that he felt like he was doing something wrong, and he was ashamed of it. It’s not that Lance was afraid of his family seeing this. He knew his family was perfectly accepting of everyone. But he couldn’t help but be scared about those few family members that seemed uncomfortable of the idea. He also didn’t want to give them the wrong idea that their son could be gay when he wasn’t. Thinking back on this made Lance realize that maybe he shouldn’t do his topic on gay rights. So he exited the page and looked for a different topic. xxxxxxx Space Over the course of a couple of years, Lance had gone through the most whirlwind of emotions he had ever experienced in his life.

Finding out about aliens and about this intergalactic war was crazy. But, seeing five mechanical lions that could form into this gigantic robot killing thing was even crazier.

What had put the cherry on the top of that sundae was the fact that four other teenagers, including himself, would become the pilots, or paladins as they Alteans liked to say, of this so-called “Voltron.”

It had taken a while to get used to being in Space, and fighting off Aliens but, it wasn’t an experience he regretted.

Even though he was homesick a majority of the time, and felt pretty lost. He found out some really cool things about himself. Like how he was a great sniper, how adaptable he became to his surroundings. How he became a much better pilot after flying two lions.

Even with all the good experiences, bad ones came too.

Being without his family had made Lance really lonely. He didn’t have his Mom’s food, didn’t have his siblings to annoy him. He couldn’t play around with his nieces, be the best Uncle he promised them to be.

He just felt so empty.

His time in Space had opened a new door of insecurities and anxiety Lance had begun to feel along with confusion.

He was always confused these days.

Lance couldn’t find an explanation as to why. He spent a lot of the days in his room staring up at the ceiling, stuffing his head in a pillow, changing his position in bed from left to right trying to figure out what exactly he was feeling.

Allura was one of the leads to his confusion.

Picking up Allura from the cryo-pod she was about to fall off of was the start of a long painful journey for Lance. He thought her multi-colored electric blue eyes were gorgeous. Her chestnut skin glowed, and her light pink v marks that were on the lower corners of her eyes, but just right above her cheekbones were definitely not human. But they were out of this world for sure.

She was pretty, it wasn’t deniable. At first, this had turned into infatuation. She was a Princess, but, the more Lance got to know her, the more he started to admire how much of a brave and selfless she was. How determined she was to fight, to end this war, how she stood up for peace.

This ultimately ended in Lance falling for Allura. Something that had formed from careless flirting, and pick up lines had started to turn into feelings. And quite honestly, Lance was scared. Sure he wanted the princess to notice him, but he wasn’t ready for the emotional stress of his feelings.

Cause who was he kidding? Once Lotor came around, he saw Allura’s type. Her type was a diplomatic Prince. And Lance? He wasn’t a Prince. So from that point on, Lance had decided to try and get rid of his feelings. To focus on his missions.

To focus on his missions.

Just focus on your missions. Things will work themselves out.

This was just another thing that had piled onto his conflicting emotions. And he really didn’t know why.

It was Keith for fuck sake.

He didn’t exactly know what it was about Keith that made his brain split into two whenever he saw him or thought about him. All he knew is that it wouldn’t stop.

Back at the Garrison, Lance admired Keith.

Even though he tried to play it off as a rivalry, he just didn’t want to be one of those annoying people that would suck up and idolize. It just wasn’t his thing.

Playing things off as a rivalry, made Lance feel like he could strive harder to try and get to Keith’s level. It made him more competitive, it required more communication with Keith. Communication was what Lance wanted with Keith.

But, it’s not like he was anywhere near Keith’s level anyway.

Despite their constant bickering, Lance liked hanging out with Keith. He liked being around him. Even though he would always say otherwise, he truly thinks Keith could be a good friend of his.

And once Lance had tried to throw away that whole rivalry bullshit and tried to be more open to Keith. Well to say the least.

He left.

And Lance didn’t know why, but when Keith brought up about the Blade of Marmora missions, Lance couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss and guilt.

When he told Keith he was going to miss him. It took him by surprise, but he knew that he somehow meant it. In this weird way, he really was going to miss making fun of Keith.

He was going to miss his impulsiveness.

His bravery.

Fighting alongside him.

His stupid voice.

His stupid mullet.

Lance couldn’t really pinpoint why he felt like this. Why he felt a void when Keith left. Why he felt so isolated and lonelier than usual with him missing. Why he felt this ache in his chest and why all the energy was sucked out of him. Why he felt so giddy whenever he heard updates about Keith from Kolivan, and how upset he got when the call would end. Why everytime he thought of Keith, guilt washed over him as he wished he could have made more out of the time they had together.

Lance only started to figure out the why’s when Keith first came back to the team. He felt so elated, so happy, so relieved to see him. Yeah Keith pushed him aside, and it hurt, but he knew there was a mission they had to focus on.

And having Keith back had made Lance feel more focused on his missions than he did prior. He didn’t feel that void anymore. His Team Leader needed him to be his right hand. He felt, completed again.

He completely figured it out after the events of the game show. Bob was an asshole but, that thing he said about Keith, he didn’t realize how much he really meant it.

He’s our leader, plus he’s half-Galra, so I think he’s, like, the future.

He was being careless at that moment, but coming to the big realization now, felt like a bucket of ice cold water was poured over him.

Those voices had started to come back again. Those voices that had haunted him since he was a kid was starting to swallow him up again. He had just gotten rid of them, and now they’re back. And it terrified Lance.

How would he get them out now?

He looked at his surroundings. He was in the Red Lion’s cockpit. No one was there. All he could hear was Space.

He was going back home.

Why were these thoughts coming back now? Why when he was supposed to be happy about finally going home?

Why was he feeling this way?

He grabbed his pillow and silently cried. Trying to get them out of his head like he always did.

xxxxxxxx Present

Fighting the war with how he felt wasn’t easy. But, he somehow managed to pull through and make it out alive. He was finally home, he was with his family. He can be free from all trauma. He can now live his life on Earth as a normal individual.

Except the voices didn’t stop.

Every day, Lance would see Keith at the Garrison and aboard the Atlas. Every day, those stupid thoughts would drive him crazy.

Multiple times, he had been poked by one of his friends that had tried to jar him out of what seemed like a never-ending tunnel of taunting voices.

He had enough.

Lance knew exactly who he should go to. He knew that this person would try to make some sense out of his complex feelings.

That’s why he was going to Shiro.

xxxxxxxx

Lance had felt anxious, to say the least, standing in front of Shiro’s doorway. He would bring his hand up on the door then immediately bring it back down. He paced around, trying to find the courage to just knock, until he finally said, fuck it. Before he could second-guess it any other, he knocked on the door. The door opened and Shiro’s silver eyes widened in surprise. His white hair was disheveled and Lance could see those permanent bags that had formed from all the stress and PTSD he had to endure all these years. But somehow, Shiro was able to maintain a welcoming smile.“Lance? What brings you here?” Lance looked at him nervously but gave him an awkward smile. “Hey Shiro, I hope you’re doing good and that you aren’t busy. I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?” Shiro’s eyebrows quirked up but he still welcomed Lance inside. Lance sat down on the couch while Shiro went over to his freestanding hot-cold water and filled two paper cups up. Shiro then set it down on the counter and sat down on the seat across from Lance and took a sip. “So, what did you want to talk about?” Lance felt every nerve flare up. He suddenly felt his leg bob up and down, but he tried not to concentrate on it. He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration, and tried to level his breathing.

Why was this so hard? He came here for help, and now he suddenly can’t speak. “Lance?” Shiro looked at him worriedly. He placed his hand on Lance’s and Lance became hyper-aware of the touch. Like it was the only thing grounding him at this second.

“I’m sorry for acting weird,” Lance started. “I just don’t know how to really say this.”

Shiro removed his hand and he folded them, nodding in understanding. “So how about we start with this. If what you want to tell me is really hard to say, then try to describe it in another sense.”

Lance thought for a moment, then he knew how he could say it.

“Ever since I was a kid, I had always grown up confused. I thought as I got older, that maybe I wouldn’t really feel confused anymore. That maybe, one day everything would make sense.” Lance fiddled around with his hands nervously and took another breath. “But everything has always just gotten even more confusing, and I really just feel frustrated, it’s driving me nuts Shiro. Why can’t it stop?”

“Why can’t what stop Lance?”

He shook his head in frustration, “These feelings! This confusion I just never know what’s real, or why I always feel so confused. Why are my feelings so twisted? I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

Shiro stood up and sat by Lance, placing his arm on his shoulder. “What type of feelings are we talking about here?”

Lance looked down at the floor. “Romantic I guess?”

“For Allura?” Shiro questioned.

Lance felt himself shrink. “No..”

This seemed to surprise Shiro, “Well is it Pidge-”

“What if it's for a guy?” Lance said cutting him off.

“Oh Lance,” Shiro said. “If you have feelings for a guy, then that’s okay. You want advice on how to act around a guy or-”

“No, Shiro, I-” Lance threw his hands exasperated not really knowing how to say it. “This isn’t normal for me Shiro, me feeling this way for guys. It’s just not- I don’t know.”

For a moment it was quiet and Lance could only hear the sound of footsteps from outside Shiro’s dorm. Shiro didn’t speak for a while like he didn’t know what to say. But then he cleared his throat.

“Are you afraid of your feelings?” he asked.

Lance looked up at him to meet his eyes, but then he looked down again, not finding the strength to keep a hold of the eye contact.

“Yeah,” he said. Though it was barely a whisper.

“How come?”

Lance stood up, finding himself not able to sit around anymore and he paced around the room frantically. “Because I’ve always liked girls Shiro. Liking a guy, it’s just weird. Like, why do I have to like guys? Why couldn’t I just bury these thoughts down any longer? Why can’t I keep them away? Why me Shiro?” Lance sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Do you have anything against gays or-”

“No!” Lance squeaked. “Absolutely not! Sorry if I gave off that impression, trust me, I’m not. I’ve always been accepting of others and have supported those rights and literally thrive off of how happy people are when they are in love, with whoever it is. I just, I don’t know okay?”

Shiro grabbed his cup again, “So about these voices, I think you should tell me more about them. What do they say?”

Lance sat back down in the chair Shiro was previously sitting on. “Well, I’ve had these voices since I was a kid, though why they come? I don’t have a clue. They literally like to mess around with me. I actually think I’m going insane a majority of the time.”

Shiro set his cup down. “What do they say?”

“They tell me I’m gay or something, or that I like guys. And I always try to reassure myself that I don’t, that it is just my hormones, that I actually don’t like guys. And they do go away, but they always seem to come back, and now its stronger than ever.”

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “You want to hear my honest opinion?”

“Please..” Lance pleaded.

“Lance, I think you’re in denial. I’d say you’re bisexual, but you don’t want to accept it for some reason.”

Lance felt a knot in his throat, and a heavy weight on his chest. He felt tears starting to sting his eyes and he felt so closed up. “That’s the answer I was afraid of.”

“Why?” Shiro asked.

A tear fell out and Lance wiped it away. “Don’t you see Shiro? How people get treated for being different? Just because of who they love? I don’t want to be one of those people Shiro.”

“Lance..” Shiro began. “You know sexuality isn’t a choice right?”

“Of course.” he sniffled.

“Then why do you think you can choose what happens to you in life? You don’t control it. You never can. The same way you can’t help what happens to you in life is the same way you can’t help how you feel over someone. It’s not choice, it's a part of you.”

Lance tried to look up and instantly regretted it. The tears he had been fighting back had spilled over and started to sob. He cried and cried until he felt strong arms embrace him.

“Why can’t I just accept myself Shiro?” he choked on his sobs. “Why can’t I be happy with who I am and be accepting of my feelings. The world isn’t so bad now, why can’t I just be myself? I never thought I would have to go through this but-” more sobs. “I-I just feel so alone, and I’m tired of fighting with my brain, I can’t ever win.”

Shiro rubbed circles on Lance’s back and kept a hold of his embrace. “Shh, Lance, you aren’t alone. I understand why this can be hard for you, you’ve been scared your whole life of being different. But, being different is a beautiful thing,” he said. “I think life would work out better for you if you just learned to accept things and stopped fighting your brain. You can’t help who you are, and really? You just need to let yourself feel for once.”

Let yourself feel.

Lance didn’t think he could cry any more than he already has, but he was wrong.

He suddenly remembered why he considered Shiro his hero when he was younger. Shiro owned up to who he was every day. He wasn’t afraid to love who had been Adam back then publically, and he didn’t let anyone get in his way. He lived his by every day, spreading love. Something Lance thought he would never have the strength to do if he was in Shiro’s shoes.

He latched onto Shiro, afraid to let go of what seemed so safe. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Shiro patted his back. There was silence but, it wasn’t awkward. It was needed. Then Shiro pulled back and placed both of his hands on Lance’s shoulders.

“So if you don’t mind,” he said making Lance’s eyebrow go up in question. “Who’s this guy that’s changing things for you?”

[buddhismscience-blog]

Otis Jones

9822131

Rough Draft

Buddhism in the West

  The development of global trade and navigation allowed for Buddhism to spread out of Asia into the West. In the 1800s Christian missionaries wrote about the countries they worked in and Buddhism was discovered by western intellectuals as described By Coleman on page 56. They had a negative impression of Buddhism as nihilistic and idolatrous. However, with time Buddhism has found a home in the United States, where one percent of the population and as high as eight percent in some states according to a world atlas article citing a Pew research poll. Buddhism gained popularity as a religion which was more compatible with science. While Christianity was seemingly incompatible with Darwin’s theory of evolution, Buddhism did not have these problems. Buddhism is not only compatible with science in some cases it seems to be consistent with some modern psychology and neuroscience. The opportunities offered by the California Gold rush in the mid 1800s saw the first Buddhists come to America. These Chinese immigrants began building temples across California according to Prebish and Baumann. Soon after Japanese immigrants came to work in California and Hawaii. The Buddhist temples served as more than a place of religious practice, they helped the immigrants preserve their language and culture. Buddhism has gone on to get lots of attention in popular culture in America from Carl Jung’s commentary in a translation of the Tibetan Book of the Dead, and Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha, describing the story of another Buddha named Siddhartha. Buddhism has found a home in west due to its compatibility and consistency with modern psychological science.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nS2Y1wmg9f8

Starting with Carl Jung’s interest in Buddhism, Buddhism has been connected to western psychology. In Why Buddhism is True Robert Wright explains how the Buddha’s description of the human condition and human suffering is consistent with western psychology. We are beings shaped by human evolution, our cravings and impulses have been shaped by the process of natural selection to ensure survival of us and our offspring. For example, if you tripped on your shoelace on the subway in front of a bunch of people you didn’t know, that embarrassment would be in your head for the rest of the week and it would bother you. Letting this incident which will not affect your life at all cause you to suffer is completely pointless, you do not know any of the people. Wright says this is because our thoughts are controlled by “modules” which have been shaped by natural selection. So, in a hunter gatherer village of less than 100 people, an embarrassment would be likely to affect your reputation and therefore affect your mating odds in some way. So, our minds are not updated to the world that we currently live in. Wright says that the Buddha could not have anticipated the struggles of the complex lives we live today, however the Buddha did have the cure for our problems.

The practice of meditation allows one to not be attached to your evolutionary urges. The pleasures we get are short and fleeting, and they are designed to be short and fleeting. These pleasures are designed to make us repeat behavior. We are hungry then we eat and have some pleasure then we are hungry again. This is by design. If someone eat and then felt eternal pleasure, they would never eat again then they would die and not pass their genes on. So, Wright says that meditation as prescribed in Buddhism is the cure to being controlled by our evolutionarily shaped brains. In 2014 study lead by Emiliano Santarnecchi meditation was found to produce “a significant reduction of several psychological indices related to worry, state anxiety, depression and alexithymia”.

            Robert Wright describes beginning a meditation practice to be like taking the red pill from the matrix where you begin to truly see the truth. In this case the truth is the truth of the human mind. The truth that you, your conscious self is not the thinker of your thoughts, rather your thoughts come in to you mind and control you. The practice of meditation allows you to see this happen and give your conscious self a bit more control over your evolutionary impulses. So with a consistent meditation practice we are less and less controlled by these evolutionary impulses and we could reach something like a state of nirvana.

It seems that Buddhism was able to find the solution to the problems of the modern world that have been found by science. So not only is Buddhism more compatible with science than Christianity and other religions, Buddhism seems to have a place in science. A quote from an essay published in the International Encyclopedia of Buddhism describes the scientific nature of Buddhism “Buddhism extends the natural laws, the laws of causality to the mental or psychic domain, or, more exactly, perceives their operation in this sphere, and thereby disposes of the idea of supernatural or transcendental agencies working independent of or in contravention to the natural laws of the universe” (2). So, the quote is saying that Buddhism does not follow the path of Christianity with having transcendental agents but follows and extends the realm of scientific thinking. Buddhism certainly makes some supernatural claims however the practice of Buddhism in the west smooths these over for a more accessible experience.

Buddhism is practiced in the west however despite an effort to keep the practice the same Buddhism in the west cannot help but be influenced by its location in the west. I talked to Manson Jones who attended the Santa Monica Zen Center several times a week from 2000-2005 he said that his experience was almost entirely secular. There were people who came to the Zen center who went to church and practiced other religions. He said while some people wore robes, most did not. There was some effort put into preserving the traditional practice so they did read some of the original texts with translations. However, he said that overall the main focus was meditation and community. He said there were clearly influences from a new age group called the landmark forum. The Santa Monica Zen center attempted to fight the stereotype of Buddhism being for liberals and vegans. He said he was encouraged to do some martial arts, and several of the other members had been cops or in the military.

Buddhism has found a home in west with various groups particularly in California and despite a commitment to preserving Buddhist traditions, Western Buddhist cannot help but be influenced by its location in the west and has intermingled with psychology, psychotherapy and the new age movement. Buddhism gained popularity due to it being more compatible with science than other religions like Christianity. Now Buddhism has been found to have insights to give to modern psychology.

                      Works Cited

  Koppedrayer, Kay. “Westward Dharma: Buddhism Beyond Asia, Edited by Charles S. Prebish, and Martin Baumann.” Journal of Global Buddhism, vol. 4, 2015, pp. 38–45.

Mcmahan, David. “Modernity and the Early Discourse of Scientific Buddhism.” American Academy of Religion. Journal of the American Academy of Religion, vol. 72, no. 4, 2004, pp. 897–933., doi:10.1093/jaarel/lfh083.

Santarnecchi, Emiliano, et al. “Interaction between Neuroanatomical and Psychological Changes after Mindfulness-Based Training.” PLoS ONE, vol. 9, no. 10, 2014, doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0108359.

Wormald, Benjamin. “Projected Changes in the Global Buddhist Population.” Pew Research Center's Religion & Public Life Project, Pew Research Center's Religion & Public Life Project, 12 May 2015, www.pewforum.org/2015/04/02/buddhists/.

Wright, Robert. Why Buddhism Is True : the Science and Philosophy of Meditation and Enlightenment. New York, NY : Simon & Schuster, 2017.

Aggie, Ms. “US States by Population of Buddhists.” WorldAtlas, 8 Sept. 2017, www.worldatlas.com/articles/us-states-by-population-of-buddhists.html.

Baldoquín, Hilda Gutiérrez. Dharma, Color, and Culture : New Voices in Western Buddhism. Berkeley, CA : Parallax Press, 2004.

Coleman, James William. The New Buddhism : the Western Transformation of an Ancient Tradition. New York : Oxford University Press, 2001.

Prebish, Charles S, and Martin Baumann. Westward Dharma : Buddhism beyond Asia. Berkeley : University of California Press, 2002.

[ninetyeightwriter-blog]

Untitled

A/N: So… I love reading, since I was little, and, at some point, I started fantasizing about actually writing the stories I wanted to read somewhere. Here goes the first shot with a concept I sent to etherealmins, who was kind enough to give the approval I was looking for.

WORD COUNT: 1731

Date time, though were scarce, were treasured and longed for by the two of you.

They’re carefully planned, checking the empty slots on the calendar hanging by the kitchen door, checking again to make sure they remained empty throughout the weeks prior. It wasn’t unusual to find the two of you discussing the plans over and over again, adding details, searching new ways to do old ideas, letting the excitement for even 1, 2 hours together squeezed in between busy schedules built into expectation.

Also, they often started way before the date itself, the bubbling anticipation for the hours to come displayed on the small grins and lingering gazes full of adoration perceived through reflexion on the mirror above the bathroom sink while standing side by side. Rooftop picnic, stargazing outside town, dinner with reservations… They all stared, almost sacredly, on the meticulous preparation for the little escapade, when you’re applying an extra layer of lipstick or he’s adjusting the cufflinks you got him on your second anniversary.

That’s where you can be found now, silver bangles and bracelets jangling on the moving arm responsible to hold the mascara brush whilst mouth lays agape humming along the soothing sound echoing from the bedroom. Stuck in the peacefulness of the moment, eyes glued on the reflected task, the senses fail to acknowledge a new presence shyly invading the ambient. Only when leaning back into a proper standing position you’re able to catch by the corner of your eyes his fidgeting figure cuffing and uncuffing his dress shirt, widening the collar opening only to button a few sets again.

Basking in the buzzing feeling of his presence, it takes more than just a while to notice the uneasiness flashing as an outdoor sign across his pitch-black orbs. What doesn’t take long though, is the worry that settles within when eyes fall upon the awkward movements of his fingers against his shirt’s fabric, this one getting crumped by the second. As a small smile forms on marsala lips, you turn his direction and slowly make your way to him, carefully not to disturb even more his obviously unsettled track of thoughts. Your hands move naturally to rest on his chest once he’s in reach and his own come to a halt only to leave his shirt and wrap around your hips instead, thumbs absently moving in circles as if to calm himself.

“What is up in that big brain of yours?” Your voice is barely a whisper, but you know he’s heard from how his hands tighten around you.

And then he smiles. The award-winning, heart-warming gummy smile that swooned you from day one and you almost let it distract you from how his eyes focus on everything but yours. Almost.

“Hey, talk to me… If you don’t want to g-“ He doesn’t even let you finish the sentence before he is frantically shaking his head. You let out a breath probably stuck on your throat for even thinking about calling out the date while still searching for what might be disturbing your lover boy.

“It’s kinda dumb, really…” He starts, but then his right hand rises to the back of his head and you know he’s going to need a little more coaxing to start opening up.

Silently, your eyes plead for his racing mind to stop as your hands reach for his and fall on his chest with intertwined fingers.

“C’mon,” You whisper looking into his eyes intensely to assure there’s nothing to worry about “Just use words, I’m sure there are plenty that can do the work…”

He scoffs at your words, but a fading pink starts to bloom on his pale cheeks and a smile falls on constantly chapped lips.

“Remember the photoshoot for the last album?” You nod, uncertainly as to why he is bringing it up, and he continues “You spent almost a month after the pictures were released talking about how much you loved everything about them, but mostly about how much you liked how Noonas did my hair.”

He didn’t need to explain further which shoot he was referring to. You could picture it perfectly on your mind.

Yoongi never really showed much of the projects for Bangtan before the official releasing date. You’d get to listen unfinished melodies he was still figuring out, here and there listen to a semi-polished song that was rejected from the album and sometimes read some verses when he wanted your opinion. But never a official thing. Like concept pictures.

He seemed really excited about the new album as well as the other boys, to such a extend you could feel it would be amazing. To say you were anxious about it would be an understatement. However, it didn’t matter how much you anticipated them, the photoshoots announcing the group’s new phase got you completely by surprise.

It looked like they were trying to bring a nostalgic vibe to it, all concepts were old fashioned and high class, still holding a boyish appeal to them. And Yoongi was specially stunning in every single one. Sure, you knew he looks like he stopped aging at his twenties and you certainly knew his gummy smile made him look tiny and dainty, but you can swear you’ve never seen well-produced pictures for his group in which he looked so much like a joyful rich boy.

Everything was perfect, from the outfit to the wide grin he was displaying, but what really gave Yoongi a headache from how much you talked about it was his hair. It was in natural colour after a long time, dark locks of silken hair styled in subtle waves bringing a flow to it. Maybe you were just hyped from the expectations, maybe it really was the cherry-on-top, what you knew was you loved that hair and it broke your heart to never see it in the flesh.

You’ve begged him to style like that at least once, just for your own pleasure, only for him to stare at you in amusement or laugh at what he called “cute whines”. He never gave in, so you just stopped asking. The shoot was still you homescreen, a daily reminder of how soft and precious your lover boy was.

He knew how deep run your love and adoration for the specific hairstyle and yet, up until now, acknowledgement was as far as you got.

Well…

“Well... I asked if they could teach me how to recreate it, but I’m not sure if I’m handling the curling iron right… Could you, ya know, give me a hand?”

You blink once. Then twice. And then you let out an overly excited squeal followed by giggles from his part.

“Yes! Oh God, yes! Why didn’t you say it already?! C’mon, let’s move to the bedroom, shall we?” You say in a suggestive tone, earning a full laugh as the two of you make the way through the door “You know the iron must be on, right?”

***

The soft beats from his playlist fill the silence while you work on his hair, both comfortably placed in the middle of the bed. Yoongi’s instructions turn out to be only two or three tips on how the mousse should be applied and how big each strand must be for the curl to be subtle, making the task in hand much easier than you once expected (oh if only you knew…).

While focused on mastering the style, his long fingers draw absently on the exposed skin of your things laying on each side of him. Short nails scratching gently, as if to mark quietly his presence, to state he was still there.

“I think it’s done…” You say after almost half an hour, hands busy carefully turning the machinery off.

He moves to face you quietly, just as you set aside the hair mousse on his side table, waiting for your attention to fall on him.

“So…” He tries in a hushed tone “Is it any good?”

His hand fly to his neck, nail digging in the nape. He waits attentively for your opinion.

You take good a look at him, eyes scanning his figure, and it couldn’t be more different from the shoot. The hair was definitively there, but everything else didn’t match. Starting from his outfit, the plain black colour staining from the matted material of his shoelace and belt to the tailoring pants and the dress shirt give off a far darker and grave feeling to him, making you question for a second how on earth he manages his duality so well. His face is also make-up free, the signs on left cheek and on “boopable” nose visible and waiting to be smooched. The big grin is now replaced by shy side smile and expectant eyes.

You let out a dreamy sigh. That’s your lover boy, right before you.

It suddenly hits you, doesn’t matter how much you wanted – no, scratch that, how much you longed to see the manifestation of said photoshoot in the flash, your boy always delivered something way better. Because it’s himself. Because it’s reality and you could feel it in the totality of your senses, from the pine fragrance to the smooth skin.

Caught in a daze, you move forward to straddle his thighs and connect your lips to his in a hurried but pretty assertive act. The marsala colour once staining your lips comes to leave an imprint on his lips, cheeks and neck during your audacious pursuit of claiming every bit of skin presented to you. Mouth moves in a passionate stupor not to leave anything unattended.

“It’s perfect Min Yoongi,” You mumble once a space was created between you, eyes never leaving his lips now swollen and smeared in lipstick “You’re always perfect Gi… I don’t know how I managed to hit the jackpot getting someone like you to be with me…”

***

You arrived twenty minutes late to your reservations, the hostess makes sure to press it on you by the disapproval stare she casts on the two of you while leading the way to the table, but the time was well used. There was no chance you’d be getting your boy walk out the door without basking him in all the love and adoration he deserved, particularly when he was looking so perfect for your own pleasure and it alone. Your perfect lover boy.

[elaine-white-author]

I’ve been scrolling through my current Works in Progress, to see what I might be able to share with you.

Ferals is a new series that only came into being around April. It came about like many of my story ideas – while I was doing something else! I was knee-deep in an amazing book and a word triggered off a thought. I stopped, wrote down that thought and that led to a page of notes. Then, that night before bed that one page of notes grew into 2 pages and, before I knew it, I had a book planned out. And the ideas for a few more in the same world.

~

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~

Book 1: Make Me Wait

During a routine search for a missing boy, about to reach a critical stage of his magical development, Vesper is stunned to discover the scent of his mate. Something he’s been born to recognise. But finding the scent and claiming his mate are two different things. Especially when his mate proves to be everything he’s ever wanted – a hot geek with glasses and an attitude, who bakes pastries.

When you’re a witch, attached to a cluster of red widows, it’s best to be careful what you wish for. Because your dreams just might bite back.

.

~

Extract

(unedited)

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Chapter 1

Monday

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“Can you sense him?”

Vesper turned to eye Snow with contempt. He hated when he did that, second guessing everything and doubting his abilities. He didn’t bother arguing, though; they all understood why he had to be sure. There was no room for mistakes.

With a sigh, he bent as though to tie a shoelace and called on his familiar, drawing his magic to the surface. He extended a hand to the ground and watched a small bump form on his wrist, emerging from his veins and struggling against the boundary of his flesh. With a quick pierce from its venomous fangs, and a tug of sharp nails to peel back the skin, a spindly leg emerged into the daylight. One by one, long red legs emerged, followed by the bulbous back-end of the red widow spider. Once fully emerged, she turned, as though to look his way.

“Go find him,” he whispered, watching the creature scurry across his palm to the ground. Three more followed and, within a moment, another twelve escaped the small cut and scuttled after their leader.

They already knew the scent to look for, but it would take them a while to find their target. They couldn’t pinpoint his exact location, as it would take took long for them to travel the campus and evade the stomping feet of the students. All they needed to do was trail the scent and make sure he really was on campus, as Vesper thought.

It was risky. If they had come all this way only to find that he wasn’t actually on campus, Vesper would murder someone. Probably for real, this time.

Thankfully, the boys were patient and aware of the problems of his nature. Being a Feral was one thing, but he was one of the few who had such a small animal as his familiar. People were always underestimating his cluster; thinking them too small, too slow, and their senses dulled so they were useless as familiars.

Vesper could have shown them otherwise, if anyone had bothered to stick around to care. But he’d learned a long time ago that the only humans he could count on were those at his back. The family they’d created from the lost and abandoned and unwanted.

A tingle in his veins told him what he needed to know. “He’s here,” Vesper announced quietly, relieved as he rose to his feet and took a breath to steady himself. He didn’t have a name or a face, just a scent. But it was enough to tell him that his mate was here, in this college campus…somewhere.

“Good.” Raven nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder, the most contact he allowed, even within their group of faux-family. “Then let’s collect our class schedules and settle in. We can start searching for him tonight. Let the girls roam and see if they can find his most travelled path. We can pick them up later,” he said, full of that simple, casual logic that always accompanied the stoic, unblinking intellect that let him make the hard decisions without blinking an eye.

There was a reason he was the leader of their group, after all. The one in charge of the Hunters who roamed the magical community, seeking those who wandered off the path.

Vesper agreed only because the girls were well trained. The females didn’t normally scout, but they were twice the size of the males and he trusted them to be able to protect themselves, with their superior venom. They should be able to avoid that, though. A red widow bite would get them too much attention from the authorities; there was no way to explain how they’d found their way to the chilly British climes, when their natural habitat were the sand dunes of Florida.

The more he kept them safe and out of view, the better it was for everyone.

“Come on,” Snow wrapped an arm around his neck and drew him closer, ignoring the way Raven withdrew his hand before they could make contact. “We’ll go back to the house and have a few beers. That’ll cheer you up,” he encouraged, always the carefree, fun-loving one of the group.

It was going to get him in trouble, one day.

“That’ll get you a broken nose,” Vesper warned, shrugging him off, though he followed Raven on the path towards their new home. “You know damned well that HE isn’t the only reason we’re here. He’s just a byproduct of our job. A lucky coincidence,” he reminded him, in case he was really stupid enough to have forgotten that.

They were on this campus for a reason. One that didn’t centre on finding his mate, even if he’d been lucky enough to scent the guy on their last scouting mission.

They were here to do their job as Hunters. To do what came naturally to them, as outsiders and the unwanted of the magical community. To remain in the shadows and make life easier on the Elders who ran things.

Vesper’s mate came second to all of that.

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Author Bio

Elaine White is the author of multi-genre MM romance, celebrating ‘love is love’ and offering diversity in both genre and character within her stories.

Growing up in a small town and fighting cancer in her early teens taught her that life is short and dreams should be pursued. She lives vicariously through her independent, and often hellion characters, exploring all possibilities within the romantic universe.

The Winner of two Watty Awards – Collector’s Dream (An Unpredictable Life) and Hidden Gem (Faithfully) – and an Honourable Mention in 2016’s Rainbow Awards (A Royal Craving) Elaine is a self-professed geek, reading addict, and a romantic at heart.

You can keep in touch with Elaine on the following sites:

Website

Facebook Goodreads Instagram BookBub

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WIP Spotlight: Ferals I've been scrolling through my current Works in Progress, to see what I might be able to share with you.