#anyways. au where milo comes back and things are Fucked Up

[kelp-my-beloved]

"Milo?" A voice calls him from behind. Without turning back, he watches the otters, who had until then been very busy cleaning a few pieces of fish in front of him, run into the water. The splash had barely gotten him when they had swam out of sight.

For a moment, the footsteps are the only thing that can be heard through the forest, until the person sits next to him.

"Scott is worried," Cleo let's him know.

They reach a hand towards him, as if to grasp his shoulder, but seems to think better of it, and let's it fall on the grass between them. The green of the weeds mixes with the one of her hand. For some reason, it's the only thing Milo can focus on.

It had taken him days to find a place free of Scott's corrupted magic hadn't touched yet. Even though he was nowhere near close to be able to call himself an expert on the matter, Milo knew that by tomorrow, the area would have taken the familiar browns and blacks that surrounded his new home.

"When isn't he?" He finally answers.

It was the only nook that didn't seem to have changed since he died. But Milo had found it, and by doing so, destroyed it.

"Does he have a reason to worry?"

The question wasn't going to be answered, they both knew that. With a sigh, Milo gets up.

"We should head back," he says, and they pretend the evasion didn't mean anything.

Scott was always there when he looked for him. The witch gave him space, and respected his times, but somehow he seemed to know when Milo needed him, because he only needs to call his name to have him in front of him. At his disposal.

Not even in his dreams is he absent.

(Milo tries his hardest not to think about all the times Scott must have called for him, knowing he had no way of answering)

"Scott?" Milo screams as hard as he can from the kitchen.

Which isn't a lot, so to say. Since he came back, his voice barely raises above a whisper. Scott assures him it's something temporal, a side effect of having died, that any moment now he would be back speaking normally, and Milo doesn't tell him about the relief that it's having some sort of proof that it wasn't all part of his imagination. That he had really come back from the dead, and that it had left a mark on him.

There are things that are best kept secret.

"Here," the witch says with a smile nothing alike to what his husband had once been.

Milo asks him where he keeps the sugar, and adds a couple of spoons to the dough when he gets him the can.

Scott asks him what he's cooking, and smiles with the answer. Milo pretends not to notice the enthusiasm in his voice.

It was the first time he had taken the time to cook something by his own initiative since he had come back. What it was, wasn't really important. The witch didn't eat anymore, and Milo did only when he couldn't keep refusing his husband's insistence that he ate something. Even now, with the dough between his hands, he could feel his throat closing up in protest, as if it hadn't yet accepted that they were alive once more, leaving their state of corpse behind, and needed to feed again.

With a sigh, Milo leaves the dough aside, and crouches down to heat the oven.

Eloise is the only one who seems to act normally around the fact that Milo had literally come back from the dead, which translates into side eye glances and a constant worry for the mental health of everyone involved. That's why, Milo guesses, Scott does everything in his power to keep her away from him. As if stopping pretending everything was fine would be the thing that finally broke him, and not the fact that he shouldn't be breathing.

As if his husband hadn't given up his body, soul, and who knows what else in order to wake him up. To have him again at his side.

Eloise, Scott, and Cleo were the only people he had seen since he had come back. Those first days were... hazy at best, but Milo doesn't press, or ask about the time missed. He knows, by the way the Ilusionist Witch's face changes when she thinks about it that it wasn't a pretty process.

That's how useful her presence is to him. El, as she insists to be called, is a drop of normality in the desert Scott had carefully built around him, making sure to pad any corner that might hurt him. The witch makes sure not to bring up any topic that might make him uncomfortable, doesn't mind any detail that might remind him of the time that's blank on his mind, to the point that Milo thinks he's going to go mad.

It's not that he's unhappy, or that he wishes that Scott had never brought him back. Milo is too selfish to admit that the price he payed was too high, or that he crossed lines that should have never been touched.

Maybe there was nobody else out there. Maybe the last piece of green in the forest had died when Cleo found him, and maybe his husband had really sacrificed the world to have him back, but the more days passed, the less he found himself caring.

As long as he didn't ask, he couldn't be sure. He could pretend that everything was fine in their little cabin in the middle of the woods, and he could imagine that they were happy

[astonmartinii]

nonsense... or is it? | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem singer!reader

face claim: sabrina carpenter

based on this request: sooo, anyways,,, i was thinking maybe a smau where Charles is playing the guy who Milo was and this obviously breaks the internet even more and this leads to them dating ??? idk, just like a really wholesome one where she was his celebrity crush and now they're dating bc of them getting know each other more bc of the music video. sorry if this is all over the place but yeah. - @whoreks

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,200,441 others

yourusername: holla babes !!! the feather music video is heading your way fast xxx if only my real boyfriends were like my music videos ones ...

view all comments

user1: MOTHER

user2: finally music videos are back baby !!

taylorswift: you can still make the whole place shimmer ✨

yourusername: thanks to you baby

user3: oh to be able to call taylor swift baby

user4: y/n's shade is so underrated - i too wish her boyfriends were as good as her mv ones

user5: she's got such a good eye for casting why can't she do this in her actual love life

user6: okay but he's hot based off a single shoulder i'm excited

user7: you got that from a SHOULDER?

user8: he's TALL?

user9: babe y/n is like 4'2 she makes everyone look tall

user10: say what you want about the catholic church, they got the aesthetic down pat

yourbff1: so we aren't asking the mv boyf out? boring.

yourusername: we have lil things called phones? USE IT HOE

user11: charles leclerc in the likes

user12: so true of him

user13: unless he's... the guy

user14: babe he's way too short lol

user15: have yall seen the sky ad? baby aint acting any time soon

yourusername

liked by yourbff1, charles_leclerc and 1,763,550 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: OMG you guys blew the feather music video up !! i'm sure it had nothing to do with this random guy i found off the street? jokes, thank you charles for being the perf mv boyf xx

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user17: HOLY FUCKING SHIT

user18: celeb crush inception no one touch me

charles_leclerc: thank you for my music video debut, maybe you can return the favour one day?

yourusername: i'll return any favour you want

yourbff1: dial down the desperation babe

charles_leclerc: what if i want her to dial it up please?

yourbff1: do NOT encourage her

yourusername: please encourage me :)

user19: Y/N STAND UP PLEASE

user20: actually y/n is so real have yall seen that man YUM

liked by yourusername

user21: y/n is a genius for fancasting her future bf in her music video

danielricciardo: THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT? SHARL WHEN I CATCH YOU

pierregasly: and me :( i thought our friendship meant more ....

charles_leclerc: it was a secret

yourusername: he doesn't kiss and tell xoxo

alexalbon: WHAT ??????

charles_leclerc: okay we can stop joking now

yourusername: fine...

user22: the way charles was defo typing that through tears

user23: y/n make the move we believe in you

user24: believe in her? she can get anyone she wants he's gotta STEP UP

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 2,099,441 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: had a blast filming for my first ever music video, thank you y/n !!

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user25: i'm feeling a new unhealthy attachment forming

yourusername: feel free to come back any time soon

charles_leclerc: or maybe you can come to me?

yourusername: is this my paddock debut?

charles_leclerc: make sure you're wearing red and it sure can be

yourusername: let me check the wardrobe

user26: i will pass away if we get y/n at a race... in the ferrari garage ???

pierregasly: let it be known i am still angry that you didn't tell me, especially after all the weird rants i've listened to

alexalbon: me too

georgerussell63: me too

landonorris: me too

danielricciardo: me too

carlossainz55: me too

maxverstappen1: me too

charles_leclerc: why is max here?

maxverstappen1: that's what you're taking from this?

charles_leclerc: yeah why are you in my business

maxverstappen1: you make it my business you talk about her all the time

yourusername: oh really ???

charles_leclerc: HE'S A BIG FAT LIAR HE'S ALWAYS BEEN A BIG FAT LIAR ALL HIS LIFE INCLUDING WHEN I MAYBE ACCIDENTALLY PUSHED HIM IN A PUDDLE

maxverstappen1: YOU DID PUSH ME IN THAT PUDDLE

yourusername: what is going on here?

user27: poor y/n being thrown into the grid drama

user28: poor charles with the grid trying to expose him

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,334,661 others

yourusername: clearly was feeling myself this week

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user31: lol why is max here

maxverstappen1: doing my due diligence as an investigative journalist

charles_leclerc: choke.

user32: is that charles? are we in the soft launch?

user33: let's not get ahead of ourselves, we know charles doesn't dress that well

user34: consider this: girlfriend effect

user35: girlfriend effect is gonna have to do some heavy lifting when it comes to charles' wardrobe

yourbff1: you think you're so slick don't you

yourusername: maybe. maybe not?

yourbff1: you're so annoying

yourusername: annoyingly cute?

liked by charles_leclerc

yourbff1: keep your nose out of women's business leclerc

charles_leclerc: SLANDER

user36: i mean they seem to have the same sense of humour

user37: not to sound insane but they are perfect for each other and i will be passing away if they are not together

pierregasly: interesting

danielricciardo: add it to the folder

charles_leclerc: folder ???

maxverstappen1: leave us journalists be

charles_leclerc: can you even read?

yourusername: GET HER JADE

maxverstappen1: add that as well

charles_leclerc: why can't we win?

user38: what is going on in the house of commons

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 2,331,663 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: i don't believe in soft launches

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user39: we been knew... but OMG PARENTS

user40: i am crying they're so hot

yourusername: hawt bf obtained

charles_leclerc: sexy gf in my inventory

yourusername: you're such a cute patootie

charles_leclerc: i cannot speak my mind or instagram will censor me

yourusername: ...oop hurry up and come back :(

charles_leclerc: about to break all US speeding laws xoxo

yourusername: not you in your charli xcx era

user41: he's with her ... in the US ... could we get y/n paddock debut in vegas ???

user42: would only be right i fear

user43: the scheduling just about makes sense before she has to go back to opening for taylor in south america

user44: now why did vegas not get in their bag and get y/n to perform at the opening ceremony?

pierregasly: way to ruin the investigation

danielricciardo: yeah we were in our sherlock holmes era

maxverstappen1: have to spoil everything don't you charles 🤨

charles_leclerc: i thought you guys wanted to know who my girlfriend is?

alexalbon: yes, but we wanted to expose it :(

yourusername: CORNY

pierregasly: oh no. he has someone on his side now

yourusername: damn right frenchie. i can hear your asshole twitching from here

pierregasly: WHAT ???

charles_leclerc: idk what that means but YEAH PIERRE TAKE THAT

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 2,114,762 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: gutted not to be on the top step but an overall great weekend in vegas. glad to have y/n by my side this weekend before she's off again to slay the stage xx

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user48: charles unironically using the word slay, the girlfriend effect knows no bounds

user49: the sky camera zooming in on y/n watching the podium

user50: i think we watched her fall in love in real time

user51: i mean look at the material... podium charles hits so different i think I FELL IN LOVE

yourusername: you're a winner to me babe

charles_leclerc: and that's all that matters

yourusername: NOPE STAY HUNGRY GET THEM POINTS AND DESTROY THE REST OF THE FIELD

charles_leclerc: okay :)

yourusername: good boy

pierregasly: never say that in public again

maxverstappen1: is this why he's blushing so much in the press conference?

charles_leclerc: NO. NO REASON

yourusername: you sure?

charles_leclerc: i am the unluckiest driver ever and am screwed over at every turn sue me if i like a lil praise

user52: charles is so real for that i also want y/n to tell me i'm doing a good job

alexalbon: enough time has passed. @yourusername can lily get some extra tickets for the eras tour

yourusername: of course. anything for my new bestie

lilymunhe: thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuu. charles you have amazing taste

charles_leclerc: i know :)

yourusername: i mean i got you, so who's the real winner here?

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,667,982 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & taylorswift

yourusername: my leg of the eras tour has come to an end :( this was such an insane opportunity, thank you so much taylor xx but this also means i can go annoy charlie until he has to go back to work !!

one last nonsense outro:

i met this lovely boy named charlie,

he races round the world for ferrari,

giving it to me everyday like ari

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user53: i think y/n might actually be winning in life

user54: is she referencing everyday by ariana grande which is literally just a song about having constant sex?

yourusername: yes and what about it? f1 drivers have great stamina

arthurleclerc: DELETE ASAP

yourusername: no can do baby leclerc

user55: fave outro for real

charles_leclerc: i am blushing !!

pierregasly: she just told millions of people all you do is fuck and now you're blushing ???

yourusername: i don't think mr doggy emoji is talking right now

charles_leclerc: at least y/n did it in an artful way

pierregasly: believe me i know YOU WON'T STOP SINGING IT DOWN THE PHONE YOU MENACE

yourusername: you sing my songs :) ?

carlossainz55: ALL THE TIME

yourusername: i don't like your tone mr 🤨

charles_leclerc: i am just showing my love :(

yourusername: @pierregasly @carlossainz55 you made him sad APOLOGIZE IMMEDIATELY

pierregasly: sorry?

carlossainz55: sorry i guess?

charles_leclerc: thank you :) i shall continue to sing to my heart's content

yourusername: good.

taylorswift: you were amazing !! i'll see you soon my love xx

yourusername: i'm hearing double date ??

taylorswift: i'm sure that can be arranged

charles_leclerc: OMG

user56: charles and travis are really the top tier himbo bfs and i love them for that

fin.

note: i really loved writing this so i hope this was everything you imagined and more!! i'm just getting into sabrina's music but i was a girl meets world stan so... i hope i did the nonsense outro justice xxx

[agentplutonium]

listen i know i don’t get enough traction anymore for more than like one person to see this but hear me out:

Milo/Sweetheart racing AU

kinda like. listen. i’m delirious a bit of this might be a bit nonsensical at times. I want the wolf boys to have their own track that they host races at. There might be another track that Will owns that he also hosts at, but that’s later development that i don’t have rn cause i am just focused on Milo/Sweetheart.

ANYWAY the plot has two different ways of going in my head right:

1. Milo/Sweetheart enemies to lovers. in this version both of them are racers, and both want the top. they are at each other’s throats for AGES until one night after a big race where Milo crashes and we get a parallel of their first healing audio. Neither finish that race. Milo can understand that he fucked up and is glad to be alive but he can’t forgive sweetheart for throwing that win away. there’s some intense arguing that ends with a kiss because i’m such a sap like that. ever since then the audience sees the two of them getting chummy and such and thinks they’re best friends, but really they’re dating. the truth doesn’t really come out until a few years later at a repeat of the same big event where Sweetheart wins with Milo close second and they end up kissing on the track. crowd goes wild. bombarded with paparazzi. bet wins being exchanged. the works. paparazzi asks if this means they’ll retire from racing. both are appalled, cause “why would i give up the chance to show them up in the next cup?” “as if, greer, i beat you this time it’ll happen again.” and they go back to bickering with the goofiest grins on their faces. they would go down in history

OR

2. mechanic sweetheart that sees LOTS of Milo and his car. Mostly Milo. the boy has a habit of just hanging around their shop while they’re working. and a habit of blowing things in his car cause he pushed it too far. david would cal them after a race and they half the time could guess who it’s about. through these soliciting moments Milo has he tries to get Sweethearts story out of them. cause, like, you can’t be that good with cars and not have a history. but Sweetheart won’t tell him. until he comes across an old box of their memorials. old trophy’s, photos, news clippings, and cassette tapes. he wouldn’t snoop anymore, and he got caught and Sweetheart was pissed, but his interest was peaked. he wouldn’t get the story out of them until him, Sweetheart, and the other two with their mates were winding down after a party celebrating another win. Angel asked if Sweetheart had any ties to racing, or if they were like them and Baabe. Sweetheart would glance at Milo and sigh, saying they’d be right back. they brought out the same box that Milo had found, letting it fall to the table with a thud saying to knock themselves out. Turns out Sweetheart was a pretty big name before they started working under david in the shop. They were a promising rookie that rose the ranks quickly in their seven years of racing, starting at 18. it was revealed to Milo later that night the reason that they stopped was because of a fatal car crash that took them out for a few seasons. that was just a little bit before their current gig, and they haven’t raced since. David had offered, but they felt like their time was up. racing was a lot of natural selection after all, if you don’t have it you don’t have it. they weren’t mad about it at all. but Milo wasn’t having it. he challenged them to a one on one, just so they could get behind the wheel again. they did, completely smoking Milo in the process, and they got begged to return to racing. they were hesitant, eventually snapping at Milo to let it drop. he did, but he got into Sweethearts head a little bit. they talked with David, and they were signed up for the next race. they don’t tell anyone they’re competing, training by themselves each night, and on the day people were curious at the new car that rolled in before the race started. it’s been a while since they had a rookie. however, that mood shifted when it was revealed it was Sweetheart behind the wheel. people were excited to see them back on the track, racers from their time welcoming them back with open arms. Milo would place a bet that he’d win this race (saying if he won, Sweetheart had to go on a date with him), which Sweetheart happily challenged. Sweetheart would win, and when Milo asked what they wanted, since they didn’t make it clear in the beginning, Sweetheart said “oh, no, we’re still going on that date. the only difference is I’m in charge. Be ready for Friday at 8.” they winked and that’s the last thing they said to him before turning in for the night. Milo got teased for that one, but he couldn’t deny the giddy grin that he had in his face or the butterflies in his stomach.

it’s kinda clear which one i’m favouring, clearly. this might turn into something. or not. we’ll see. anyway until this either consumes me or i have a new idea for y’all ✌️

[terrainofheartfelt]

📓📓📓

does 3 emojis mean 3 answers??? well, give a mouse a cookie....give a liz a prompt....

okay 1: another jenate fic idea the death of WVDB. nate's grandfather passes, and so he's called back to NY for the funeral. it's basically jenny being nate's rock through vbd family nonsense, because nate knows what he wants and the kind of person he wants to be and that does not compute with anne and his grandmother. like, there's a will reading, and nate ends up being promised a huge sum BUT with stipulations, like, there's funding to set up his own nonprofit as well as set him up comfortably -- but only if he's married. and he's like "fuck that" and walks away from it. another nuggets I've thought about over this idea: dair being Old Marrieds; blair still being favored by lots of vdbs but like anytime she interacts with any of them she's like "have you met my husband Dan???"; jenny & blair playing Nate's self-appointed emotional guardians; jenny being so glamorous and put together that all the vbds are like "whaaaa?"; and there's actually a couple cousins nate keeps in touch with and they LOVE her. oh, and nate joking that he doesn't need his grandfather's will because "Jen's gonna be richer than me in 5 years anyway"

2: a big little lies au!!!! okay so like, jenny is shailene woodley, blair is nicole kidman, serena is reese witherspoon, vanessa is zoe kravitz. kinda want serena and vanessa to just be wives and drop that jealousy subplot idk. and blair is locked in her abusive marriage with chip wiskers, and she thinks she's keeping it hidden from her son henry, but he starts first grade bullying a kid in his class, but jenny's son gets blamed for it, since they just moved to town. (who would be laura dern tho?! penelope?) serena adopts jenny as her new best friend, and so her best friend blair does by proxy (lady friendships!!!!) and all the tension comes to a head when it's revealed that jenny's assaulter is blair's husband, a fight breaks out, and chuck ends up dead at the bottom of the stairs. and all the women band together in solidarity (lady friendships!!!!) oh and jenny and blair heal fall in love and raise their boys together <333 maybe they open a boutique together. the challenge with doing anything with the humphrey sibs Going Through Some Shit, is: where the hell is the other one??? my answer for this au is that Dan is living his Happily Ever After with his son Milo and his husband Nate and they all fret over Jenny from a distance, because she wants to make her own way, dammit.

and 3: a pop musician's au. born entirely out of my obsessive listening of carly rae jepsen's The Loneliest Time, because, it's a Blair album. full of dair anthems. it'd be kiiiiinda sorta like the 90s music au by audrina, but not because I'd want to do something different if I only had the time, but that's the vibe: Blair is a pop princess, Dan an indies guy, and ✨ROMANCE✨

(also the vibe would be like one of my favorite GOT fics Dangerous Woman, but this time I would pick the music)

they fall in love, fall apart, etc. etc. and there'd be other characters too. Serena in a music au could ONLY be Kesha, and she and Dan are exes-turned-besties and sometimes they write stuff together.

Dan's ride or dies are Jenny and Vanessa, and they each have their own thing going but they still write and perform together. boygenius. they're boygenius. (obvi Vanessa is Lucy Daucus, Jenny is Julien Baker, and Dan is Phoebe).

oh, and Carter Baizen is an actor and he and Dan meet through Serena and they date before the grand Dair Reconciliation.

and endgame dair & serenessa. bc I'm me.

[lillian-nator]

Ranch AU

Or, as we all call it, The Cowboy AU 

Essentially, this was something that I created, and it’s gonna be purely fluffy, with a small bit of angst here and there. Any of the angst will be hurt/comfort. It’s meant to make us all feel better after those fucking harsh lore streams. I started it, based off of some shit in the Dad!Schlatt AU, and after that I honestly didn’t write most of it. It had really been a project in the discord, because we were all sad and shit, so if you have some fluff to offer, please do! I am happy to make almost anything canon - and we could always use more ideas. :)

I hope you enjoy some mindless farm boi fluff!

BASIC INFO: 

It's SBI's Ranch (Phil is Dadza, Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur are his sons)

Phil, sells to the local stores, and manages the crops. He doesn't do too much labor anymore. He hired his boys for that.

Dream, SapNap, Purpled, Tubbo, Callahan, and Punz are all hired farm hands

George, Niki, Ranboo, and Fundy work at the shop where they sell their products; Niki makes all of the dairy products, Fundy and Ranboo stock, label prices, and keeps track of sales, and George works customer service with his Gogy magic.

Wilbur works with the sheep, the goats, and he trains the dogs (Collies - they herd sheep), he also works with the crops a lot

Schlatt isn't hired but he might as well be. He can be found wherever Wilbur is, and is probably drinking a beer he stole from Phil. He doesn't get paid, but he eats all of their food.

Tommy works with the cows, the pigs, the chickens, the horses (sometimes), his goose, and the dogs / cats that they own

Tubbo works with Tommy. Essentially. But he also works on the crops, and the bee farm that they have set up.

Techno works with the horses, and is currently training to be a veterinarian.

Dream works on horses with Techno - they race the horses competitively - but otherwise, is where ever he is needed (usually crops)

Purpled works with Tommy and Tubbo. He mostly works with Tubbo on crops and his bee farm.

Punz and SapNap haul things. As your resident Chads, they are in-charge of moving heavy things and doing manual labor.

Callahan is their repair man. He fixes tractors, and machines on a daily basis.

SOME HEADCANNONS: 

HENRY, a saga:

that henry has a matching bandana to the one Tommy has so that everyone knows thats henry. Tommy doesn't like it when people touch henry so henry gets a bandana - Shark -

when Phil first started raising Tommy, he would've never guessed that he would turn out the way he did.

He was loud, and brash, and hit his brothers, and made fun of the neighbor's kids,  but then Tubbo became Tommy's best friend, and then Phil introduced Tommy to the cows.

The cows are Tommy's everything.

When a Bred Heifer is due, he sits with them everyday past their due date - he sat with Betty for 5 days when she wouldn't birth a calf. He was so fucking worried.

When one of his cows are sick, he sleeps in the barn until they get better. His last days with Harvey fucked him up.

Tubbo, Tommy, Purpled, and Ranboo spend long nights at the farm, and Tommy always leans against Henry as he stares up at the stars.

Henry who his best girl (all cows are girls and Tommy doesn't give a shit about gendered names). Henry who wears a matching bandana. Henry who is fluffy, and warm, and Tommy's everything. -

Sometimes when Tommy had a bad day, whether it’s stress, or school, or just whatever, Tommy sleeps in the Henry’s stall with her. Phil has so many pictures of Tommy curled up with Henry. From when she was first born to now. - Eye

Tommy hates winter because that’s the one time of year Phil won’t let him sleep in the barn. Even with the layers and heat lamps it’s too unsafe. Tommy always gets up extra early in the winter. Both because he has to check and break ice in the water troughs but also because he misses his girl - Eye -

Henry's mother, Betty, was the first Cow Tommy had helped during birth. He sat with her for 5 days when she hadn't gone into labor past her due date. It took 9 hours for Henry to be born, and Tommy was there through the entire thing -

Well, almost the entire thing. He was at school for the first hour of labor, and was so pissed at Phil when Phil knew and didn't immediately come get Tommy from School.

It always felt like Tommy and Henry had a special bond because Tommy literally raised Henry from birth. -

They didn't think Henry was gonna make it when she was first born, but Tommy was fucking determined, and bottle fed that cow every single day and night. When she was slowly weened off milk, Tommy got unironically sad that he didn't have to bottle feed her anymore.

He still visited her every morning, and milked her mother at dawn, right after he got eggs from his hens. -

Henry waits for Tommy at the end of their long ass drive way when he gets home from school. She knows that when the bus pulls up that her boy is back and so she’s always there waiting lazily for pets and a nice walk together back to the house. Even when it’s cold and someone is waiting for the kids to get home in an ATV or something Tommy always walks back to the house with Henry - Eye

Thinking about how long these fucking country roads are. And how Tommy and Tubbo have the same bus stop even though Tubbo and Tommy's houses are a couple of miles away. Tommy has to walk a mile to get to the beginning of his driveway, and seeing his favorite girl there is like a reward at the end of a journey. Tommy probably keeps a bag of feed in his backpack, which is just a mixture of grain, hay and corn, and gives Henry a handful to thank her for waiting for him.

Clementine, The Goose: 

Tommy has a goose, and names it Clementine. 

He found her in the woods one day, when she was very young, and he decided he was going to keep Clementine. 

Clementine is only ever nice to Schlatt and Tommy. No one knows why. 

Clementine follows Tommy around. Very endearing. 

Phil doesn’t question it at this point 

NEW MILO, the sequel:

OG Milo is a kitten that Wilbur found on the side of the road, in the rain, and he took the kitten in, trying to save him. Wilbur immediately got attached.

Techno pulled an all nighter, half spent  trying to save OG Milo and the other half comforting Wilbur. "You couldn't have helped, he was too starved and out in the rain for too long." Phil adds that if Techno can't save something, it can't be saved. - Ethan

Wilbur's next cat was named New Milo in honor - Ethan

Anyway, New Milo has three kittens. Blood God, Boots (given to Fundy), and Bumbles (given to Tubbo). They're called the Bees and they were born Christmas Eve - Ethan

BLOOD GOD, the pussy:

Blood God is Techno's cat. Its just a ferall little molly that loves techno too much. - M -

After Techno helped New Milo have her litter, he wasn't originally gonna keep any of the kittens, but he saw this tiny thing with the orange muzzle and just: stole her.

He is also nicknamed Blood God, for both his skill in hunting and healing

He originally named her Piglet because the orange spot looked like a pig snout [the main reason he chose her and not her stronger littermates] but called her Blood God teasingly when he first adopted her

Wilbur didn't realize he meant it as a nickname and told everyone her name was Blood God

Techno still calls her Piglet, but everyone else calls her Blood God because that's the name on her collar.

Most of their cats aren't collared, but Phil made her a custom collar because he was worried she'd get lost hunting with Techno and Dream - Ethan -

Blood God is such a batshit cat. She's a runt, really, oddly small compared to her siblings, and she's their best mouser

She's the cat that everyone leaves scraps for, but never tries to pet out of fear

Often she'll climb up people's legs and sit on their shoulders, and it's the only time you can pet her.

She is very, very affectionate with Techno and he loves her very much. He has her very well trained, and she comes with him and Dream when they go hunting sometimes alongside a terrier.

She's a little itty bitty calico molly and she has an orange patch right over her muzzle - Ethan

TOMMY'S HENS, the chicks:

He gets real defensive of his hens. They lay eggs for him. They deserve to be treated well. -

Tommy does in fact have an egg incubator; Sometimes it's just better. Tommy prefers letting his hens care for their own eggs, but he does still use the incubator - Ethan -

Some chickens enjoy being thrown so they can flap and shit. A few days after passing ownership of the hens to Tommy, Phil is going down to the crops and just sees Tommy chucking his hens and watching them rush back to be thrown again

he feels a hint of "what the hell" but he notes the gentleness tommy does it with and how the chickens seem to be enjoying it and he shrugs and keeps walking - Ethan -

Once Wilbur was helping Tommy with the chickens and he dropped an egg

Unfertilized, of course, but Tommy looked like you'd just punted a toddler

Three years later, Wilbur isn't allowed to touch the eggs anymore

Tommy's paranoid he'll hurt a live one

"Get out." "What - Tommy it was an accident, it was just one egg." "If you aren't gonna treat Phoebe's eggs with care; You can get the fuck out." "Tommy -" "Out." -

the quality chicken eggs depends usually on how the chicken feels. While under his care, the eggs the chickens produced were really good.

Under Tommy's care? Phil's eggs tasted like horseshit in comparison - Ethan -

They have their like, main barn and to the side of it is a little pond. The chicken coops are a little beside it, with the singular duck coop (he only has four ducks) closest. He calls the area the Business Bay

AGES: 

Tommy - 16 Tubbo - 16 Purpled - 17 Ranboo - 17

Techno - 19 Wilbur - 21 Schlatt - 19 Phil - idk like 45 or some dad shit

Fundy - 18 Niki - 19

SapNap - 18 Dream - 19 George - 20 Punz - 19 Callahan - 20

RANDOM HC’S: 

Tubbo, Niki, Ranboo, and Fundy are siblings. -

Whenever they eat meat they talk about who they're eating. 

They tell stories about their day and such but they always start dinner, when its meat, saying "rip lmao" and telling stories about them

...they don’t do it when they eat beef

Everyone sitting down with their plates of ham Wilbur: so who was it? Phil: Fern Tommy, already eating: rest in peace fern Techno: he shat on my boots once -

Each of the boys get a few animals that aren't allowed to be butchered.

Wilbur has Friend, Enemy, and Skit the Bull. (Wilbur wanted to name a Bull "Shit", but Phil said no because Tommy was 11 and already swearing too much for his liking)

Techno has none of the livestock. He only cares about Blood God, and his horses.

Tommy has a pig [currently unnamed], his Hens (6 or 7 of them, that lay eggs), and his dairy cows -

Phil is ALWAYS chewing on straw. -

Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur all call Phil "Pops" or "Pop". They all used to call him "Papa" though. It's like a coming of age thing for the three of them, when they stop calling him "Papa" and start calling him "Pop".

Phil may or may not have cried when Tommy started calling him "Pop" at the age of 12.

ALTHOUGH, all 3 boys know that if you want anything, you call Phil "Papa". Phil can't resist it. -

Techno and Tommy with starry eyes: pops Phil: no Wilbur: Papa Phil, with slightly less confidence: n-no   - Ethan -

Tommy holding a baby calf in his hands that he walls to bring inside for the night because hes in love with her: papa please!! Phil, practically in tears: fine.   - M

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

fic authors self rec! when you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. let’s spread the self-love 🤍✨

I have this tendency for my favorite fics to be "whatever's most recent," just because it's still lighting up my brain -- but actually I don't have a lot of Most Recent Fic, so this is a great time for me to go back and think about stuff I loved that's in danger of being Lost to Time.

Fourteen Years (Stargate Atlantis) There's technically a pairing to this story (Sheppard/Ronon), but the vast majority of it is just character and worldbuilding around Ronon and his trauma, which is the thing I wrote most about in this fandom, because SGA did the TV Trauma thing where they were like "this guy's neat backstory is that he underwent the most horrifying agony imaginable for seven years and now he's tough and badass!" When like. That is not what it would do! Being isolated from human contact and hunted like an animal for years on end would make you very super fucked up actually! So accidentally, by forgetting his whole backstory and just making him a fun, laid-back badass, the show created this really interesting black box of a character, because how *is* he coping with *anything* actually? Anyway, I wrote several versions of answers to that question, but this is probably my favorite.

1001 (Schitt's Creek) This is actually the middle part of a three-fic series, but I don't see why you couldn't read it alone. I know coming-out stories are played out, but there is something really rich and lovely to me about people realizing in adulthood that they're not at all who they assumed they were, and obviously you should not read anything at all into that, please do not perceive me. This is a pretty short one, and I think it's well balanced between Patrick's experience of trying to understand himself and Patrick's experience falling hard for a first love. David is probably OOC here, although in my defense managing Patrick's emotions *is* the one thing in canon he tends to be level-headed about, so I'm letting myself have this one.

Orleans (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) You *cannot* give me an alternate universe in canon and expect me not to write fic in the alternate universe. So this is set in the Wish-verse created in s3, and it's written in second person, which is -- terrible, it's a very dubious choice that I do not recommend to anyone, but I was Trying Things back then, and I tried it. And I would never do it again, but for some reason I like this story, idk. I feel like this hits a lot of the beats that make it feel like a very archetypal Thing That Milo Writes -- weariness, regret, queer horniness, mortality, religious trauma. I actually like a lot of my old BtVS fic, looking back; there's definitely a rawness to the writing, but that gives it a certain charm. If this one works for you, you should definitely also read Witness and Pink Ladies.

And Watch What Happens (Supernatural) This is kind of weird one, existing in some kind of liminal zone between Canon AU and Just Plain AU -- it's got the same "coffeeshop AU without the coffeeshop" vibe that much of my Magicians fic has, but -- well, it's hard to explain how it intersects with canon and also not spoil the fic. All is not what it seems! I genuinely love this version of Cass, who was the most fun character I ever got to create right up until PGY Eliot, and not to overstate things, but I do think that spending most of 2018 writing from his POV sort of unlocked the Gender Achievement for me, like, oh huh, I think this might be the person I want to be! So, special place in the heart and all that.

All the Comforts of Home (The Magicians) My favorite Magicians fic is, of course, All of Them, even the ones that aren't good. But I'm having a renaissance with this one lately. It's got drama, it's got comedy, it's got philosophy, it's got full-tilt romance and it's got It's Complicated, it's got food porn and porn-porn and parenthood and like, the beauty of all life or some such shit. I devote most of one whole chapter to shitposting about The Sound of Music. I just really like it.

This was fun! I don't know who else has been tagged, but I'll pick @stormscoming and @nellie-elizabeth and @allegria23 and honestly anyone! Anyone who sees this should do it!

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | five

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: tw for death, death of a parent, reference to drug addiction

word count: 4.5k

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi babies thank you for your patience, i know it’s been many many months since i’ve updated! the last time i posted for kib was all the way back in may, which is crazy, i know. but life has been weird and it’s been difficult for me to find the motivation to write. it’s slowly coming back for me and i’m so glad you guys have stuck around with me even if i haven’t been consistent. i’m more grateful than you know!

✩ index here ✩

“She did what?” Dahyun asked, her bite of gimbap nearly falling right out of her mouth. 

Youngjae threw his head back and broke into laughter entirely at Mark’s expense. 

Mark ran his tongue over his teeth and refused to look up at his friends, focusing awfully hard on the sketch he’d been working on in between appointments. He quickly realized that they had absolutely no sympathy for him. 

“Yeah.” 

It had been two weeks already since that night, and Mark was just now feeling comfortable enough to spill what had happened after he took you home. He liked to take his own time to process his thoughts before he revealed them to others, and quite frankly, he hadn’t even wanted to tell anyone. But he was starting to think maybe he needed an outside perspective. 

“She has guts,” Youngjae said, after finally pulling himself upright in his chair. “Was it good?” 

“Dude,” Mark warned, far from amused. 

Dahyun cut in. “It’s a good enough question. From what I’ve seen, you guys have some intense sexual tension. If the kiss was hot, maybe it’s worth exploring.” 

“We don’t have sexual tension,” Mark defended. 

Youngjae snorted. 

“Sure. But, let’s say if you did, and the kiss was good…” Dahyun trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows. 

Groaning, Mark tapped the end of his pencil against the desk. He glanced up at the wall, his eyes naturally drawn to the photo of your shoulder, of the tattoo he’d designed and permanently inked onto your skin. It wasn’t the only photo he had pinned up of his previous work, but it was the one he looked at the most. 

“She’s a kid,” he said, little to no conviction in his voice. 

But you weren’t a kid. Mark knew in every way, you were an adult. Even mentally, emotionally, you seemed more mature than he felt most days. Packing up your belongings because you refused to live a life you weren’t satisfied with? He couldn’t imagine anything more grown up than that.

“Mark,” Youngjae’s tone was firm, serious this time. “It’s not the worst thing in the world if you have chemistry with someone. I know it may not be the most convenient girl for you, but… you’ve been by yourself for a long time. You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely.” 

He hadn’t thought he was lonely until you came into his life. He had been fine, so fine, living on his own. Waking up alone, eating dinner alone, focusing on his work and living one day to the next. 

But now, he looked forward to the sound of your keys in the door when you got home from your evening shift. He bought your favorite brand of orange juice instead of his. He didn’t mind watching outlandish and obviously fake reality shows if it meant that he got to hear your commentary along with it. More than anything, he’d gotten used to the way you made him feel. In the simplest of terms, he was happy. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark said. “I already fucked it up.”

Dahyun narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?” 

He rubbed some of the tension out of his forehead, relaying the conversation he’d had with Taehyung that night to his friends. The exchange wasn’t longer than a few minutes, but it was long enough for Mark to potentially ruin everything you’d built for yourself in the last couple of months. 

“I didn’t tell him everything - I couldn’t do that. But I told him I’d seen her in the city, that I thought maybe she worked in one of the restaurants near the shop…” A knot of guilt coiled in his stomach. “Fuck.” 

He’d just wanted to do the right thing. You were young, you couldn’t see that your parents cared about you. Taehyung cared about you. They deserved to know where you were, especially after everything they had done for him. He could at least point them in the right direction. 

“Well, shit,” Youngjae offered, a sympathetic frown on his face. 

“I fucked her over, and I haven’t been able to look her in the eye since. We’ve just avoided each other for the last two weeks and I-” Mark heaved a breath, leaning back in his chair. “I hate it.” 

He missed you. Even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

“I have an idea,” Dahyun said, her whole body perking up. “Don’t look at me like that, sometimes I have good ideas. Why don’t you invite her along for Yugyeom’s camping trip?”

“You mean the couple thing?” 

Dahyun sighed. “It’s not a couple thing. It’s just… everyone there is part of a couple. Anyway, it might be a good way to make things less awkward.” 

Mark blinked a few times, waiting for Dahyun to say ‘just kidding’ because it was an absolutely ridiculous idea. “What? How would that make things any less awkward?” 

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a great opportunity to break the tension. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mark scowled. 

You spent your entire shift thinking about Mark. Thinking about how you had completely messed up your relationship, and trying to figure out how to fix it all. It had been a stupid, drunken mistake, and you would take it back in a heartbeat if you could. 

The past two weeks had been torture, tiptoeing around and trying your hardest to avoid him. You’d picked up extra shifts almost every day, figuring that if you were working, at least you didn’t have to pretend like everything was normal. 

All you wanted was to come home, curl up on the couch with Milo and watch your favorite ridiculous TV shows while Mark snickered next to you, entertained by the disgustingly wealthy families on the screen no matter how much he pretended to hate it. You wanted to be able to lean into him, feel the body heat radiating off of him when his shoulder brushed yours. 

You missed Mark. Even if you couldn’t say it out loud. 

After much debating, you decided that the best way to apologize started with food. And you owed him, anyway, after he opened his home to you and let you stay there free of charge. A dinner was the least you could do. 

You could tell once you walked into Paradise Tattoo just before closing time that Mark hadn’t been expecting you in the slightest. He was at the desk, going over papers with Dahyun, when the bell dinged to signal your entrance. 

In his ripped jeans and muscle tee, all of his tattoos were on display for you, even the large quote he had inked onto his ribcage. You gulped and shoved your feelings down. That would only make things worse. 

“Hi,” you said, greeting both Mark and Dahyun. 

“Hey.” Mark scratched his head and straightened his posture. “What are you doing here?” 

“Well,” you started, wringing your hands in front of you. “I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner? On me. I owe you, anyway.” 

Dahyun piped up, a mischievous smirk on her lips, “That’s a great idea. Mark was just talking about how hungry he was.

Mark cleared his throat and shot his co-worker what looked suspiciously like a glare. “No, I’m fine. You really don’t have to-” 

“Come on,” you said, hiding a smile. “How about burgers? There’s a good place around the corner. It won’t kill you to let me pay, will it?” 

You could see Mark weigh his options as he chewed his lip. Either end up hungry, settling for some quick frozen food later on, or bite the bullet and let you pay for his dinner. You knew it would hurt his pride to do so, but you wouldn’t back down. It was more than just the free room and board that you wanted to make up for. 

“Alright,” he finally agreed. “Let me grab my stuff.” 

It only took less than ten minutes for you to walk down to the burger place, but it felt like an hour as awkward silence hung around the two of you. It wasn’t until you were both seated at a corner booth inside the restaurant that you finally spoke up. 

“Listen, Mark,” you said, looking up from the packet of ketchup you’d been nervously squishing between your fingers. “About that night…” 

“No, you don’t-” Mark was quick to interrupt, but you held your hand up. 

“Just let me, okay?” You sighed. 

You’d rehearsed these words countless times in the bathroom mirror, and right now it felt like they were slipping right out of your fingers. Where were you supposed to start? With the kiss, straight away? Or getting so drunk that you’d needed to be taken care of in the first place?

“I’m just… really sorry. I was stupid to drink that much and it’s not your job to watch after me. I should be able to take care of myself.”

Mark stopped you again. “I didn’t mind taking care of you.” 

“But it’s not your job, Mark. I’m an adult, and you’re letting me stay with you and asking for nothing in return. The least I could do is make it easy on you.”

“Y/N, if you could have seen me at your age, you wouldn’t feel so bad. We all get drunk and stupid sometimes,” Mark said with a shrug. It almost relieved some of your guilt until you remembered the kiss in the bathroom. 

“Well...” You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for this one. “I really shouldn’t have ki-” 

“Hi! My name’s Lana, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you two something to drink while you look over the menus?”

A cheerful brunette appeared in front of you, a pen behind her ear and a wide grin plastered on her face. You glanced at Mark, then up at your waitress, not sure if you were grateful for the interruption or not. 

“Um, can I just have a water?” you asked, voice small and uncomfortable in your throat. 

“Same for me,” Mark agreed. 

“Perfect! Let me know if you have any questions about the menu!” 

You let out a long breath before you were able to look at Mark again. He was biting his cheek, his lips all twisted and holding back a laugh. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Her timing,” Mark got out, just as he let go of his laughter, throwing his head back. 

To your own surprise, you found yourself shaking with laughter as well. Either from Mark’s contagious laugh giggle or the simple ridiculousness of the situation. Here you were, in a burger restaurant, apologizing to your older brother’s best friend for kissing him while you were heavily intoxicated.

You covered your face with your hands to suppress your own laughter, letting your back slump against the cushions of the booth. It all came to you then, just how silly you’d been the last two weeks. 

“I am sorry, though,” you said, after you both settled down. 

Mark’s eyes glinted as he watched you from across the table, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. “It’s alright. I mean it. Last time I was that drunk, I’m pretty sure I ran around the block in my underwear singing the Canadian national anthem.”

You giggled again at the mental image. “What? How did you even-”

“No idea. It’s like I was possessed by a drunk Canadian mischief demon.” 

It was strange to imagine Mark and Taehyung in their teen years, since you’d been so young at the time, you could barely remember anything from that time of your life. You remembered Taehyung wearing the same pair of purple skinny jeans for three months because a girl at school had told him she liked them. 

You remembered Taehyung letting you sit in the basement in your favorite cushioned chair while he and Mark played video games on the big screen. It had been your favorite place to read then, tuning out the rambunctious cries of defeat while you got lost in other worlds. 

“So we’re okay, then?” you asked, after Lana had come back to take your order and left once more. 

Mark nodded, a genuine smile on his lips. “We’re okay.” 

“Maybe it’s weird, but…” you began, staring down at the wrapped silverware on the table instead of looking Mark in the eye. “Even though I grew up seeing you as Taehyung’s friend, that feels like a lifetime ago. And now I just kind of see you as… my friend. Like somebody I can trust.” 

When you finally looked up at Mark, his expression was unreadable. His bottom lip was between his teeth, but his eyes looked somewhat uncomfortable. You worried for a second that you’d crossed a line. 

“I owe a lot to your family,” Mark said after another long moment passed. 

Even though you didn’t remember much about Mark from your childhood years, you knew his upbringing had been rough. His parents had been addicts, the kind that never should’ve been together, let alone bring a child into the world. 

You’d never met his mom, but your own mother had made enough snide comments about her after Mark had gone home for you to understand just what kind of person she was. 

“One of those low life, worthless drug addicts. Sleeping around with anyone that can help her out, if you know what I mean. Never should’ve been a mother.”

She had a funny way of showing her compassion sometimes. 

Taehyung brought him over once after school and your mother had gotten one look at his threadbare clothes and hollow cheeks and taken him in as her new project. At first, he ate dinner with your family almost every night, and then she started making Taehyung pass over his any extra clothes he’d gotten that didn’t fit properly or that he simply didn’t like.

Mark did owe a lot to your family. 

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been so young there was no way you could take credit for anything your parents had done for Mark, but still, you itched to comfort him. Even now, with the unsaid words lingering in the air, you sensed that he had never been able to fully open up to anybody. Though you didn’t deserve it, you wanted to be the first. 

“Your mom,” you found yourself saying. “Is she…?” 

Mark shook his head. “She’s gone. Passed away a couple years ago.” 

Your face fell. If anything, you had expected her to have taken off for good or maybe gotten into some trouble she couldn’t get herself out of, but you hadn’t expected her to be gone. 

“Oh, god, Mark. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

To your surprise, he only lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I hadn’t seen her in a long time before that. Maybe two, three years. Then my aunt showed up on my doorstep with a box of her things and told me she OD’d in a gas station parking lot a week before.” 

His voice wavered only slightly, but enough to tell you he cared more than he let on. You could only imagine how painful it would be to hear of your own mother’s passing a week after the fact. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again. 

Mark shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s weird,” he said, tongue running over his lower lip as he paused. “I’d stopped seeing her as my mother so long ago that… I felt like I’d already mourned her death. Fuck, that sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“No,” you answered as you reached across the table, fingers laying across the back of Mark’s hand. “It doesn’t. At all.”

A moment passed between the two of you. You caught Mark’s eyes glancing down at your hand resting on his skin, but he made no move to avoid your touch. 

“I never even went through her things. The box is just sitting at the back of my bedroom closet collecting dust.” 

“Do you want to go through her things?” you asked. 

Mark paused, chewing at the inside of his lip before he answered. “I don’t know.”

You nodded, somehow understanding exactly what he meant. Though you hadn’t gone through the same thing, you were familiar with avoiding a potentially painful and uncomfortable situation by simply pretending it didn’t exist. Hence why you had four unopened voicemails from your brother and parents. 

You found yourself stroking the back of Mark’s hand with your thumb. It didn’t feel wrong to touch him like this, even though maybe it should have. All you wanted was to bring him a shred of the comfort he had deserved to have for much longer than you’d known him. 

“Alrighty, and here we’ve got the bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries for the lady,” Lana exclaimed, immediately bursting your bubble as she returned to your table with your food balanced on a tray. You were quick to snatch your hand from Mark’s. “And a BBQ cheddar burger with curly fries for the handsome man.”

You didn’t miss the way Lana winked as she placed Mark’s food in front of him. This girl was not getting a generous tip from you, that was for sure. 

“I told you, after that depressing dinner conversation, we need to do something fun,” you told Mark as you carried your skincare basket out from the bathroom into the living room.

“And this is fun for who?” 

You threw him a playful glance and plopped down onto the floor in front of the couch on your knees, setting your basket on the cushion and sifting through it. 

“Both of us. Just trust me.” 

Catching the skeptic look on Mark’s face, you could only grin to yourself as you pulled out a tube of your favorite clay mask. He didn’t know just how relaxing a good face mask could be, but you were willing to show him. 

“I’ll even go first,” you told him. 

Mark lifted his feet to prop them up on the coffee table as Milo curled up like a tiny ball of cotton on his lap. You’d both changed out of your work clothes into comfy clothes, and you couldn’t help noticing how warm Mark looked in his white joggers and oversized black hoodie. You wouldn’t mind snuggling up into that space between his side and the couch cushion… 

You sighed and shook your head, attempting to clear the less-than-platonic thoughts from your mind. If you were going to make this friendship work, you would need to stop thinking about him like that. Immediately.

“Can I ask you something?” Mark said after a beat of silence as you popped open the cap to your mask. 

“Hm?” you asked, propping your personal sized makeup mirror on the couch so that you could see yourself while you applied your mask. 

“Yugyeom’s family has a yearly pass to this campground, and every year he does this weekend camping trip…” he trailed off for a moment and you forced yourself not to react, instead focusing on applying your charcoal mask to your cheeks. “This year, it somehow ended up as a couple thing, so Dahyun suggested I invited a friend along. So…” 

Lifting your eyes from your own reflection, you watched as Mark struggled to finish his thought. 

“So…” you said, helping him along. “Are you asking me to come with you?” 

Immediately, a neon flashing red alarm screeched in your mind. ‘This is a terrible idea! You must say no!’ it screamed.

“Only if you want to. I mean, it’s a cool place. Their lot is right by this swimming hole and there’s a fire pit, so we normally bring a ton of booze and cook our own food over the fire…” 

Mark ran his fingers through his deep red locks of hair, his nerves displayed clearly on his face. You weren’t sure why he was so nervous to ask you, but it came off as incredibly endearing. Despite the warnings blaring in your mind, you found yourself nodding. 

“Okay.” 

Mark looked at you then, his eyes finally locking on yours, and the corner of his lips lifted in a hopeful smile. “Really?”

You couldn’t help grinning as well. “Yeah. I mean, on one condition…”

“Oh?” 

“Mhm,” you replied, holding up the mask tube and popping the cap back open. “You let me put this mask on you.”

“Aish,” Mark said and shook his head. “No way. Not worth it.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby!” 

You stood from the floor and climbed onto the couch, crawling to his side and squeezing some of the mask onto your index and middle fingers. “It’s not that bad!”

“Get away from me!” Mark exclaimed with a laugh, dodging your fingers. Milo hopped up onto the arm of the couch, stomping his cute little paws a few times. 

“Just let me pamper you, Mark!” 

He let out another laugh, louder this time, trying to reach for the mask to steal from your grasp, but he wasn’t fast enough. You giggled, ducking to miss his hands as he grabbed for your wrists. 

Somehow, you found yourself straddling him, thighs resting on either side of Mark’s waist. 

“Real men wear face masks!” you exclaimed with a shout of victory as you finally managed to smear a good amount of the clay mask across Mark’s left cheek. 

“Oh, you little-” he replied, hands reaching for your sides underneath the long sleeved shirt you were wearing. He tickled your sides, a joyful laugh falling from his lips when you started squealing. 

Milo yapped a few times from the arm of the chair, presumably because he thought that you were hurting Mark or vice versa, but his protective barks only made you laugh harder. 

“Mark! Stop it!” 

You gasped for breath, wriggling on top of him and dropping the mask tube, fighting between giggling and trying to swat his hands away. 

“It’s what you deserve, you sneak,” he said, his hands still squeezing and tickling your sides, unknowingly drifting further up your shirt to your ribs. 

Twisting and turning, you finally managed to grab his wrists and yanked them from under your shirt. You held them firmly in between your bodies, even though he could have easily overpowered you. 

Your chest heaved up and down with the last of your giggles. Mark stared up at you, still smiling and out of breath. The air suddenly became thick as you held eye contact, your hands falling from his wrists to his chest. 

“Y/N,” Mark whispered. 

‘Danger! Danger!’ your mind yelled. 

Mark’s hands, now free from your hold, landed on your hips. You felt his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the bare skin of your stomach. Your heart pounded beneath your rib cage at his gentle touch. 

“Mark,” you said, intending on telling him to stop, but it quickly died in your throat. 

His chin tipped up, making you realize just how close you were to him now. You weren’t sure who had leaned in first, but only a few mere inches separated your lips from his now. If you only bent forward a bit, you could… 

It reminded you, all of the sudden, of the kiss in the bathroom. It had been quick, but long enough for you to slide your tongue past his lips. You remembered the shock to your system the moment you had felt the cold metal of a tongue piercing. 

“Y/N,” Mark said again. “Tell me to stop.”

His voice was quiet but you felt like you could read between the lines. He didn’t want to stop, and the only way he was going to stop was if you made it clear that you didn’t want this. 

But you did. You’d wanted it from the moment he ran his fingers over the tattoo he’d inked onto your skin one of those first nights, a soft ghost of a touch that made goosebumps form on every inch of your skin. 

You weren’t stupid, you knew that this was all wrong for a variety of reasons, the least of which being that he was your roommate. But that meant nothing to you compared to the way his hands felt on your skin.

Before you could open your mouth, tell him that you didn’t want him to stop, an 8-bit version of the Mario Kart theme blasted from somewhere behind you. You jumped, your heart skipping several beats from the surprise. 

Mark took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, blinking a few times before he gently guided your hips to climb off of him. “Sorry, I should…”

The ringtone felt familiar but you couldn’t figure out why. Even as you watched Mark grab for his phone off the coffee table and immediately silence it, you wracked your brain to try and remember where you had heard that ringtone before. 

It was as if Taehyung had known, the moment that Mark quieted the little voice in his head telling him not to be so close to you and that this was wrong in so many ways, and finally accepted his feelings for you.  

Maybe he had a sixth sense. 

The moment that had passed between you then had been effectively ruined as soon as he was reminded of two things: you were his childhood best friend’s little sister, and he had already ruined your life even if you didn’t know it yet. 

But he’d been so close to giving in. You’d been on top of him, smiling in that innocently beautiful way that you did, your thighs caging in his hips. He hadn’t missed the fact that he could feel you with every inch of him, considering how he’d begged his body not to react, not to harden beneath you. Between the thin layers of his sweats and your sleep shorts, there was no way you wouldn’t notice. 

Later, after you’d grabbed a washcloth so you could both wipe the face mask off your faces and awkwardly watch TV for an hour before enough time could pass for you to realistically head off to bed, Mark listened to the voicemail Taehyung had left. 

“Hey man. I just wanted to let you know that uh, I’m going to try and head to the city and look for Y/N in a few weeks. If you see her again or have any idea where she might be, let me know. I really appreciate it, my mom’s been going crazy… anyway, maybe we can grab a drink or something once I’m in town. I’ll hit you up. Thanks again, Mark.”

Mark was glad he was in the privacy of his own bedroom when he listened to the message so you didn’t see the way he threw his phone down on the bed, muttering curse words to himself and trying to forget how heavenly you had felt on top of him. 

It was impossible. All he could think about was your skin under his fingertips, how your lips had been so soft and smooth and close to his, and how the weight of you on top of him had been enough to make him hard. 

His only option was to shut himself in the bathroom and crank the shower all the way to the coldest temperature that he could stand and pray that it would be enough to keep him from sneaking into your bedroom that night. 

[whirlybirdwhat]

One Piece Happy Fic Rec!

Hey everyone! Election sucks but pirates good, so I made a happy/soft/gen fic rec for one piece to help everyone destress. All of the following fics are happy, comforting, or just plain soft, and gen! so I hope you all can enjoy them! Take care of yourselves everyone – we aren’t going to know the outcome right this second, so take some time to yourself!

Anyway – fic time!

Straw Hats

Chasing Flowers – taizi - 4721 "It's an old tradition in our town; on the second week of the second month of the year, you leave flowers for the one you love, for them to follow back to you. By their house, where they work, nooks and corners that are special secrets between just the two of you." (Luffy's crew leaves him flowers, and an old innkeeper gets drawn into the chase.) – outsider pov, strawhat fluff, everyone adores their captain

Grateful Day – taizi – 1632 - "Some countries take a day to celebrate all the things they're grateful for, and they call it Thanksgiving Day." (In which Robin introduces a new holiday to an ecstatic Luffy, who has about eight things he's grateful for.) – strawhat fluff, luffy loves his crew.

how much honey can the heart stand – choppersupportsgirls-  4585 – “tender snapshots in the lives of the strawhat pirates and all the quiet ways people can love each other;”  soft strawhat crew

Nah – soomin – 2281 words – “There is no stopping destiny, but good luck getting the pirate king to bend his will for you. In which the Strawhats are meant to fulfill some kind of larger purpose, but none of them could really bring themselves to care.” Reincarnation/time travel au where the strawhat pirates say fuck destiny. Sanji POV. Soft.

Sea Shanties – Milo – 13.4k – “A collection of Luffy oneshots. Summaries of each on the individual chapters themselves.” Examination of Luffy with Zoro, Brook, and Shanks!! Three chapters

stared at the sun and the sun smiled back and called itself pirate king (or: loyalty, on the high seas) – grainjew – 27,425 words – ““What is it about him that turns us all against our deepest principles, just to see him smile brighter?” “I don't know, but it doesn't matter, right?” One Piece loyalty content, with a focus on friendship and the Straw Hats, because that's what I love the most and write the best”. – One shot series about the strawhat pirates, fluff, loyalty content to the max, I reguraly reread ‘but the eternal pose points east (lech l’cha)’

we slept on the ocean last night – origami – 3,113 words– “It starts like this: Luffy can’t sleep alone. (Pirates have nightmares, too. The Strawhats, as always, find a way through.)” Strawhat, Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Really Fucking Soft and platonic intimacy!

ASL:

Bear hag tiger bandit dad mom – whirlybird70 – 1,924 – The ASL brother decide to give Dadan a fathers day card. Chaos ensues. Fluff, gen, ASL Brothers. (yes this is my own fic) 

Come morning, together again – applepie – 4743 words -  “One day, Ace woke up and decided shirts were overrated. Apparently it was contagious, because Luffy soon thought the same. Sabo just hoped he didn't catch whatever it was that was going around (but he does in the end, and he couldn't be happier).” , ASL brothers, time travel, ultimately fluffy with a tinnyyyy sprinkle of angst

Let’s start fires for heaven’s sake – soccersarah01 – “Ace, Sabo, and Luffy are brothers. They fight together, they laugh together, they cry together, they swear at each other - anything and everything, they do together. But, in the end, one thing is true: they love each other. Even if they would beat the shit out of each other without hesitation (Or: A collection of all the ficlets I've written about these dumb bros.)” – Soft, funny, fluffy ficlets about ASL Bros.

Thunder like cannonfire, lightning like being alive – by grainjew – 1,223 words  “Ace and his brothers, stuck inside during a summer thunderstorm.”  Soft, ASL brothers, canon compliant fluff

together is much better – taizi – 1879 – “Luffy says, in his best attempt at a whisper. He’s leaning forward over the middle console with a grin too big for his face. The brightest thing in Ace’s whole life, not that he’d ever say as much out loud. “You ready?” “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he says by way of answer, and Sabo laughs, and the three of them pile out of the car like a squad of Navy seals.”” Modern Au Soft ASL bros being stupid.

Reach up to me (if you even can) – guiltylights – 1729 – “And when Luffy’s arms retracted back to himself and started shrinking, air hissing every which way, Ace assumed it was because Luffy was going to try another method and thus took the opportunity to dive straight into his little brother’s space in this moment of vulnerability to knock him out with one clean punch—only to skid straight to a stop as the steam cleared and Ace came face to face with a small Luffy staring belligerently right up at him with his little head only barely reaching past Ace’s knees.” Ace and luffy being dumb. Fluff.

Sedimentation – kawaiibooker - 3531 – “First and foremost, Ace is a big brother - not the only one Luffy's ever had, but the one he has left.” Ace and Luffy bonding in the desert of alabasta, fluff, gen, a little bit of hurt/comfort because Sabo

--

Feel free to add on anymore recs!!! Even if they are your own fic. Stay safe out there everyone, love yall!

[rawbin69]

*Slowly walks up to you, cradling this*

*Gently sets it down in fromt of you*

*SPRIN TS THE FUCK AEWAY IN PANIC*

Okay anyways hi I’m back after like, months lol, sorry about that (but I’m not actually back because I’m busy trying not to die because of school-work and trying to work on some MAP parts. I literally said five days ago on my yt channel “Hi I’m back now!! :-D” and school just said “no <3″ which, um, rude. So yeah I might come on and occasionally come post something but I’m really not gonna be coming on here to be active

OKAY OKAY but I need to explain these sketches because they will be suuuper confusing without context, I am very aware, yes, so there’s an explanation (+ some extra art and a non-shaded version of the stuff above) under the cut :-)

BASICALLY, @lulzyrobot​ made this AU of Pokémon Sword and Shield and now I have brain rot because of it. Also this AU will indeed be confusing to those who have no knowledge about sword and shield so here’s a skippable paragraph about the game:

(OBVIOUSLY SPOILERS BELOW)

Basically, SwSh is just a Pokémon game (no surprise there) and its gimmick or whatever is Dynamax, which turns Pokémon like. Really fucking large. (Some of them can also Gigantamax which changes their appearance as well as size, but we don’t care about that here bc it really isn’t relevant). In all gyms (except one, Spikemouth) there are power spots, which are needed for a Pokémon to Dynamax. If they’re not close to a power spot, they can’t do it. There are also power spots in the Wild Area (which is, you guessed it, an area in the game). At one point in the game, the villain -- Chairman Rose -- starts up something called “the Darkest Day”, which happened before in the Galarian region (which is where everything takes place), in hopes of getting infinite energy for them or something like that (really makes no sense but like ok pop off ig). To do this, he basically uses these things called Wishing Stars -- which are what allows Pokémon to Dynamax -- to summon a Pokémon called Eternatus. In-game, you basically just summon two other legendaries (Zacian and Zamazenta -- they’re on the cover of the games) and fight Eternatus and then catch the fucker. That’s all context you need for this AU so let’s move on to that now:

The AU is basically that Eternatus sends out a powerful blast which fuses trainers with Pokémon, to varying degrees. The closer to a power spot you are, the more likely you are to get it bad. If you’re far enough from one you won’t be affected at all. A person can merge with multiple Pokémon, but the more of them, the harder it is to not go wild. If you merge with a wild Pokémon, you’ll become a Wild Trainer (and those basically act like, well, wild Pokémon).

If you want more info (which you do want, trust me on this), here’s a post made by the creator themself!! https://lulzyrobot.tumblr.com/post/610890677032747008/pokemon-dynamorph-au-masterpost

OKAY ANYWAY, back onto this specific sketch (wow I really went on a rampage there lol)

I decided to Dynamorph my trainersona(??????) (btw, both the Dynamorph version AND the “human” version are WIPs, I’m not completely happy with either of them) and this was the resuulltttt

- Their name is Robin (because I’m a bastard that does self-insert ships with no shame)

- They merged with their Arcanine (and I’m considering also adding a wild Lycanroc, both so I can give them Epic Claws™ and so that their whole extremely volatile nature makes any sense)

- They have some REAL trouble keeping themself in check. Like. They’re constantly on the edge between becoming a Wild Trainer and being “normal”

- Because I am, like I said, a bastard who does self-ships without any shame they are together with Piers. yes I am a simp for him. 

- Robin has their select group of friends (made up of all gym leaders minus Opal because they have no idea what the fuck is up with her, as well as Marnie, Hop and Leon. No they don’t give a shit about Bede) which they are super protective of. They have to be reminded that they can all handle themselves, because they might otherwise become a bit possessive.

- While they are a raging storm you do NOT want to get involved with in any way to anybody outside their friend group, they are really nice to be around when they really care about you. They may be pretty stubborn, but they always do what they think is best for their loved ones. On multiple occasions, they’ve gone out to collect any sorts of gifts they can find that they think their friends will enjoy. They are super gentle and kind with Hop and Marnie (which, by the way, they’d literally die for either of them) and they’re overall a good friend/partner. Their main flaw here is their temperament and somewhat possessive nature.

- If anybody did something to even moderately hurt any of their friends... hoo boy, you do NOT want to do that. They’ve nearly killed people for leaving so much as a scratch on their loved ones, and have to be physically dragged away so they won’t really kill somebody. 

- However. Despite really, truly believing they'd never, under ANY circumstances, hurt ANY of their friends... they’re wrong about that. The only ones they could truly never purposely cause harm to would be Piers, Marnie and Hop. Yes, it would take A LOT for them to hurt any of the others (like, they’d only hurt the others if they tried to, idk, kill them or something. Or if they tried or actually did kill somebody else in their close circle) but it could hypothetically happen.

- If they ever were to see Rose, he’d probably be torn to shreds on sight. Literally nothing would be able to stop them. 

- While it’s near impossible for anybody they don’t care about to calm them down, it’s pretty easy for especially Hop, Marnie, Piers, Raihan, Leon and Milo (and the others, but less so for them lol). 

- They were right by a power spot, like they were about to step into a den, when the blast happened so they were. Really fucking affected by it. They stayed in the Wild Area for a while after that, searching for their Arcanine who had “mysteriously vanished”, before they transformed. They were basically a Wild Trainer for at least a month before Piers found them and managed to get them to remember who they actually were over the course of two days. It was,, really concerning when they’d at first been texting him pretty much non-stop to update him on what was going on with them just to then go radio silent for a few days, especially since people had begun transforming at that point. Haha angst go brrr

- You must ignore how their clothes still kind of fit despite them growing to be both more ~muscular~ and tall and how it’s not dirty for the sake of my convenience ok

Ok I think that’s all? woah that was a long post lmao

Anyways, here’s the promised extra art (first one is the same sketch without any shading and that stuff (buT I MISSED ONE, I DIDN’T REMOVE THE SHADING FROM ONE I AM SORRY LOL), second is Robin as just a regular trainer)

Oh also some context for some of the sketches:

Bottom one where they’re screaming “yOU mOthErFuCKeR” is what their reaction would be to one of their loved ones being killed

The one with Milo is Robin just. Being near him. After probably having some sort of panic or anxiety attack because they’re worried about everyone. Because Milo is a really calming person to be around.

Top one in the middle is Robin just patting the red eye-lens-things Raihan got from his Flygon because they find it to be Very Entertaining to just pat them for no reason at all.

The ones where they’re hugging Marnie would take place right after they come back to Spikemouth after their month(s) as a Wild Trainer. They still weren’t used to being around people (and much less BEHAVING like a PERSON) so they were pretty awkward about Marnie hugging them.

The one where they’re surrounded by darkness to the right and kneeling forward is them in the middle of their “transformation” after the blast happened.

Fiery ones at the top right are just Robin being pissed as fuck lol

(Still haven’t decided if this will be the “official” team of Pokemon I have, but it’s cool for now. Also yes, I added an extra Pokemon to my “team” who isn't actually a battle-Pokémon or whatever. I NEED APPLETUNS EMOTIONAL SUPPORT OKAY)

[mylordshesacactus]

RWBYmon: Aquarius AU

For reference, what finally got me and @alexkablob to sit down and start writing this fic that had lived rent-free in our heads for years is literally that the Pokemon AU for it was so good, and we couldn’t tell y’all about it until the fic was out there in the world.

This is actually only Part 1; Part 2 is about the endgame of Aquarius, so, that one will have to wait.

So. In this universe.

It starts out just as it did in canon. It ends that way as well.

Pyrrha chases Cinder to the tower. It’s not a battle, not really. Her well-honed competition team, the six long-time partners who have only so recently become friends, throw themselves at the maelstrom and die at her feet.

Six and one. Her battle team--and her starter. Milo, who was never meant to see real combat, the smaller and more honest soul who alone among a team of elite arena fighters lands a clean blow against an enslaved god.

Bound and controlled by the Maiden bond that should never have been Cinder’s, unable to stop the slaughter of a team of brave, loyal Pokemon who knew when they stepped onto this battlefield that there was no chance, and fought with everything they had regardless-- Ho-Oh keens for the wasted courage of this bright, kindhearted little Oracorio as he strikes.

Milo dies anyway, of course. 

Pyrrha is, briefly, the only creature on Remnant in more agony than Ho-Oh. 

And then, to her horror, Pyrrha wakes up.

Instinctively, she reaches for a pokeball that isn’t there.

In this setting where Pyrrha’s sword and shield were her pokemon, it’s not the remnants of Akouo that are melted down and forged into a collar.

Now here’s where the divergence really begins. Because Cinder had a starter, too.

Cinder’s starter was a Houndour.

The Houndour’s name is Midnight; and once upon a time, in a far-off kingdom, she was Cinder’s pride and joy.

Cinder’s opinion of her first and best weapon soured quickly.

Midnight, you see, was meant to be a Houndoom. A big, fierce, intimidating presence. Salem gave her the Houndour so that she could evolve it herself.

Here’s the thing, though. Pokemon evolve when they’re ready--they evolve because they’ve reached their full potential in this form, and evolving will help them become what they want to be.

Cinder can’t do that.

Cinder doesn’t know how to take something strong but vulnerable and help it grow. No one ever taught her. All she knows how to do is find weaknesses and use them to break something down. Midnight can’t evolve with Cinder here.

Even if Midnight were the most powerful, intimidating Mega-Houndoom in history, she would be irrelevant to Cinder now--Cinder has Ho-Oh. She doesn’t need a broken starter pokemon, any more than Cinder in canon thought she needed her old bowswords once she had the Maiden powers.

Since even Cinder differentiates between burning a weapon and setting fire to a puppy, Midnight is still...around. Literally a kicked dog.

Midnight is wary, even aggressive, toward Cinder; she has to be. And because she’s scared and insecure, she lashes out at the other pokemon in Evernight--make herself not worth it to deal with, and they’ll leave her alone.

For fun, one day, Cinder leaves Midnight alone with Pyrrha--expecting the fear-aggressive Houndour to treat Pyrrha the same way, savage her a bit.

Midnight, wary and pissed at first, takes only a few seconds to realize: Oh.

She hurts you, too.

Midnight, starting and stopping in jerks, terrified, inches close enough to lick Pyrrha’s fingers, and Pyrrha shatters.

Eventually, Emerald can’t bear it anymore. Eventually, she snaps and decides they have to run, and they have to bring Pyrrha Nikos with them, because they owe her a lot more than that.

She quietly adds that they’re bringing the Houndour too, and Mercury about loses his shit.

We’re ALREADY GONNA GET MURDERED and you want to STEAL HER STARTER right out from UNDER HER NOSE--

Emerald’s logic is simple. Pyrrha clings to that Houndour like a lifeline whenever Cinder isn’t around to see and interfere. And after everything she’s lost, everything they’ve helped do to her, we’re not taking her fucking dog away, Mercury.

They steal Midnight’s pokeball.

Mercury complains the whole time.

They get out, barely.

They make it to Patch, barely.

A final entry in The Required Reading Of This Post, Apparently: Taiyang Xiao Long and the Dog-Type Gym.

They make it to Patch, barely.

As always, Tai nurses Pyrrha back to health, puts the fear of Arceus into Em and Merc and then feeds them soup and makes sure they have a safe place to sleep because they’re scared kids and he’s responsible for them.

Eventually, they’re ready to move on--at which point he asks what they plan to do with the Houndour.

He has a Dog-Type gym, you know. She’d be more than welcome to stay.

It is, objectively, the best option. There’s no need to drag the poor thing into this fight.

Pyrrha and the Houndour still flinch away from the suggestion before agreeing.

They say their goodbyes.

The trio is about to leave when Pyrrha--stops. Spins on her heel. Calls out that--or you could come with us. If you wanted to stay together. I--you could be my partner. My...my new starter. We could do this together.

The answer is--emphatic.

Pokemon evolve because they’ve reached the end of what they feel they can learn and accomplish in their current form. They evolve when their trainer has helped them reach their full potential, and inspired them to go even further. When they’re ready to change and grow together and feel confident stepping into the unknown.

A Houndour races across no-man’s land from Tai’s side. Midstride, the flash of light barely fading, a Houndoom with flashing, backswept horns slams into Pyrrha’s chest and sends them both flying down the dirt road.

Well, says Tai, somewhat unnecessarily. That’s certainly an answer.

What’s her name, anyway?

And Pyrrha comes up short. 

She knows the answer, but it suddenly seems too cruel. She may not know the full history of “Midnight” as a name, but she knows that what Cinder was projecting onto this sweet, scared little dog wasn’t--right. Wasn’t fair.

She knows that whatever Cinder’s plans were for her pokemon, the little Houndour who risked everything to offer comfort and compassion to a tortured prisoner doesn’t want any part of it. That it isn’t what Cinder wanted it to be.

Dawn, she answers.

Her name is Dawn.

It’s...not the classic Pokemon Journey. Not anymore. That’s beyond either of them now. But it is, though. A young woman and her...friends, striking out alone, with a pokemon at her side that she doesn’t know very well yet, but would like to. Somehow, they love each other already.

Pyrrha doesn’t put together a full competition team again, not yet. But she does get her pokemon journey; she has a trio at her back when she arrives on Menagerie.

But those are stories in and of themselves.

[transhoverfish]

What are everyone's "abilities" in Survivors? Ryley has good hearing and Milo glows but what do the others have?

!!! YOU HAVE ASKED ME ABOUT MY AU !!! THE FLOODGATES OF YELLING HAVE OPENED!!

OK SO. as u mentioned ryley has good hearing and milo glows. basically,

ryley = good hearing

milo = glowy boy

emily = electric detection (cooler than i describe rn my vocabulary is small)

danby = like emily's but reverse. controls electromagnetic things

roman = night vision

jochi = the most superpower like one, he got quick regeneration.

avery = telepathy!

bart = also kind of telepathy but more like future telepathy. he has future vision.

and i. never thought of one for ozzy actually and at this point i have no idea what to give them that wouldn't have been brought up prior so. u know genetics are weird! they just dont have anything ig. nobody look at me LABDKABDLABD

AND ALSO paul and marg have powers! paul got that peeper enzyme carrier thing, and marg got the very funny power of feeling others emotions. yes that includes the fish. yes this is one of the primary reasons she didnt kill paul over a decade of dealing w him. yes she hates it.

and the vesper haven't been sick long enough to develop anything! or at least thats what im going with bc i havent thought of anything for them yet 😔

AND NOW: LONGER EXPLANATIONS. IM GONNA GET CARRIED AWAY SO ITS UNDER A READ-MORE.

first off on the list: bart! so bart.. kinda has futuristic visions?? but the things he sees are not set in the stone,, as in if he dreams about smth (a lot like ryley can!) it is possible to change those events! most of these visions/telepathy type stuff were bc of the emperor and warpers, and also al-an! once the sea emp died and the warpers all calmed down his powers kind of go away a bit. i think i wrote al-an sort of mentioning it in one chap of awa?? but its only kind of implied. so he has rlly similar powers to avery except he can't tell what others are thinking and he can only kind of tell how his closest friends r feeling. so right now bart pretty much doesn't have powers! he can communicate w the warpers and sea emps much easier than the others tho (he's the only one that can talk to warpers! im not sure he'd get along w them after being hunted down by them for like 12 years though KABDLSBRLSHD)

avery has telepathy! this is because when he first shows up he jokes about having telepathy and i was like "haha. WAIT." and then he got telepathy! i realize its a bad idea to not come up with their powers until as im writing but uhhh well. i never said i was a fantastic writer who's smart. KANROSHROSBF.

he also kind of had marg's empathy ability but wayyy dialed back. he can only tell how other humans are feeling and he can only vaguely understand it as opposed to feeling the emotions himself like marg does. so he can kind of tell how others are feeling and he can tell what theyre thinking about! unless of course for plot convince he can't. strong emotions, especially strong negative emotions (ie. fear) can overwhelm him and makes his powers stop working. and if someone is convinced they're right then he wont b able to tell they're lying/hiding something! yay plot convenience!!

roman has night vision. i have no way of making this sound cool he just straight up can see really well in the dark. like a cat. most of the powers were based off where they originally landed and what would help them in that area! and roman landed in the sparse reef, which is so dark all the time i cry thinking about it. so he has night vision! his poor eyesight is probably all kinds of fucked up now tho.

jochi has regeneration abilities! now i know this might sound a bit much but he just heals from cuts and stuff faster and like. he bones heal fast. and he's more likely to survive smth that might usually kill someone, but its like a 10% higher chance of living nothing too much. he doesn't rlly get scars as much as the others, and its healed his old ones a bit more! this is by far the most unrealistic power of them all, but ya know its alien fish planet game who cares. basically bc his life support systems failed his spine got all fucked up and he got infected faster bc he was barely alive for the first few days and spent a lot of time w bart who was looking after him. power helped fix his back, but he still has a rlly bad limp and pretty much constant pain. big mood there khasar 😔✊

emily can detect electromagnetic waves! works best underwater. kind of like ryley's, but instead of hearing noises she can only hear anything electric, like vehicles or ampeels or heartbeats. gets all fucked up during thunderstorms though sadly. she's the only other one that can kind of hear warpers and can tell when ones about to warp around but she cant actually talk back to them. pretty sick if u ask me tho.

danby has p similar powers to her bc ampeels also spawn in the bulb zone. except he can sense them at a much smaller distance, cant hear warpers, and can control the waves around him! mostly just his own tho. so like, he can quiet his heartbeat or make it stop all together. scary power that he does not know how to control. uh oh. but he can also control other creatures a bit! he's very good at hiding bc of this, which is nice bc he loves to hide from scary things. very big mood once again.

milo is glowing powers! looks a lot like the transparency of a ghost levi or a crabsquid, although he isn't as see through as them. you can def make out like veins but not bones or organs. his powers are activated by touch, the more force behind will create more glow and more transparency! a poke = goes away within a few seconds, a slap = stays for a minute or so. instead of bruises, he just glows until the bruise would normally go away. he's basically a living glowstick. i have another joke for this but i cannot physically convince myself to type it bc its some shit emily would say to him and i cannot embarrass him like that LABDLABDKABAKD

andd ryley's super hearing! can hear basically everything within a mile radius at all times. im bad at math and i don't know the metric system but i think that's like around 1k meters. wait does the metric system use mile already. no. ONCE AGAIN NEVER SAID I WAS SMART.

OK ANYWAYS back on track! this means he can hear about half of the crater at all times. he's gotten p good at blocking out background noise and anything far away. typically only hears everything within like 300 meters of himself. so when he does get back to just hearing everything its like. u ever take out headphones in a busy place and everything kinda hurts for a few seconds bc its so much noise. yeah like that but 500x worse. he's able to concentrate on specific areas within this 1 mile field but if its far away it fucks him up good for a lil while. sorry ryley :(

and then the other two degasi! as mentioned before, paul can carry enzyme like the peepers, but he also can kind of make some himself! only small amounts and it works a bit less than the peeper enzyme does. he does not have to cough it up though thankfully it just like. idk how to describe this idea it can just kind of leave through his skin?? he has like no control over his power at all it just kind does its own thing and he deals w it. this is primarily how he and marg survive for so long w/o dying to kharra!

and finally marguerit! highly empathetic abilities that allow her to feel the emotions of anything around her! i thought it would be funny as hell to give MARGUERIT of all ppl Big Emotion Disease. this is a big reason why she has had yet to murder paul and why she's a lot less murderer like in the au. its hard to kill someone if you. you know. can feel exactly what they are. probably the reason she adopted Dog Bart/Legally Preston Emotionally Not. saw sad puppy and felt too bad to leave him. like paul, she has basically no control over it and is one of the reasons she does NOT want to go back to the survivors base and be around so many other ppl, she'd be feeling like, 13 ppl's emotions at one time. all these powers have fucked up drawbacks dont they??

once again sam, robin, jeff, maxim, and ozzy are (for now at least) not gonna have any powers! mutations are weird and ozzy just didn't get anything, and the vesper haven't been sick long enough for any yet!

OK THATS ALL. HOLY SHIT SORRY FOR YELLING FOR 15 MINUTES. GOT CARRIED AWAY. hopefully that explains everything tho OABEOABROANRJS OK BYE MY PHONE IS ALMOST DEAD

[botwstoriesandsuch]

casual anon checkup how you doin

Let’s see, well we just breached 4am, and the sense of urgency to complete some school work has finally kicked in. I got my laptop propped up on the kitchen counter, and I just finished making some houseblend coffee that I loaded with milo powder for “health” purposes. Gotta finish up this AP Stat quiz while pretending I have some semblance of what the hell is going on in the class that I don’t pay attention to. I got my fancy bluetooth headphones that I connect with the wire anyway because I don’t like using up the battery, and I’ve had this acoustic cover of Solitary Warrior Revali looped for a few minutes now--I need those soft vibes to distract me from my thoughts about how the only reason I’ve been so sluggish with my work overall is probably due to years of ingrained perfectionism and inability to adapt my standards to the currently circumstances of the world along with my slightly declining mental health so you know--music’s nice. 

Oh! And my dad got me this electric coaster (as pretentious as that sounds, I know. Leave me and my not-cold drinks alone ok) for the holidays and it matches with my favourite mug that I’m drinking from right now so, it’s the little things :3 Plus, not to derail myself from my school life intentionally, I’ve been working on this sheet music for one of my songs for a few weeks now and it’s starting to actually sounds pretty decent so yaay!! Probably won’t share it for a long time though...I’ve really been only working on it on and off again when I have “free time” [which may or may not just be my online class gym period hey you can’t prove anything to the cops]

Uhhh what else can I shove in here...”How you doin” pfft, I don’t really know how to make this ask funny or entertaining. Well I’ve nearly finished up this zine piece about the Royal Tech Lab so that’s fun (shameless plug for the Memorabillia Zine) aaand, I’m picking my kalimba again to learn Mipha’s theme. About time, cause I have to record shit for the [REDACTED] project I’m working on >:) heh. Oh fucking SHIT now that I think about it I have like three different secret projects I’m working on huh...haven’t even finish the script for that damn au...OK what it, right, “how am I doing” well, I’m doing everything and nothing currently, if that makes any sense. Your possible regrets about sending this to me aside, it feels good to just lay everything on a plate, shit out a post, and then never talk or acknowledge it ever again. It’s like birds, you know how they just take a ten pound shit in the mourning and never look back? (That way they don’t need to go during the rest of the day) That’s what this is, just a giant load of bullshit that I’m gonna set out at 5am and then never look at again. 

You know as unhealthy as it sounds I really do dedicate a lot of time to this blog and this fandom. I mean sure not all of it (arguably any of it) is productive, but hey it’s something. The fuck else am I gonna do with my time...you wake up, you slam your keyboard awake to show up to online class, you take a nap, you spend a few hours keeping up the cishetallo gifted student appearance to your parents and then spend the rest of your time finding enough serotonin on the internet to make your brain work. Hell if I’ve talked to another human being in real life all year. Even my parents just kinda talk about the news and “how was class” during dinner which lasts like 10 minutes. My dad just kinda pisses off to work as soon as breakfast is made, and my mom just kinda stays in her office until everyone’s back and she makes dinner. Wait, that’s a lie, she does talk to me on Sunday mornings when she informs me of how I’ve ruined her day before church. So you know I do prefer it that way anyhow, why the hell would I want to talk with them when I got perfectly entertaining internet companions. What’s a “what scholarship programs are you doing?” to a *checks notifications*, “why are Rito fingers like that if they molt to they just lose the ability to--” god fucking dammit...

So! What were we saying--how am I doing? Welp. Guess it’s up for interpretation cause I sure as hell don’t know the answer to that. The hell would you do with the answer anyway. Pity points, praise points? I don’t particularly care for either. God I just realized you introduced yourself as “casual anon,” HA....apologies this is the opposite of casual isn’t it. Or, well maybe it isn’t. I’m the one just having a nice little chitchat with myself as I sip through my mug o’ caffeine. I might have to add a keep reading bar to this so I don’t blog up the dash, but also that would be ironically humorous to see for such a stupidly small question huh. Idk, contrary to popular belief I don’t have a spine so I’m probably not gonna unload all this shit on my followers like that out of the blue. Hell I’d be surprised if I actually posted this. Then again...5am and vibin with bad decision making.....plus the sentiment of putting something out to be seen is always nice.

You ever watch Bojack Horseman? Fantastic show, it’s just on a whole ‘nother level when it comes to writing. And yeah, I probably should have been watching it in the first place, BUT.............yeah ok there’s real excuse I probably shouldn’t be watching it/have watched it. But there’s this one episode in Season 4 I think? It’s where Bojack gives a eulogy for his mother’s funeral and the entire episode is just that, it’s just this giant monologue of him giving his eulogy. And that episode always facinated me because it is probably the most interesting episode in the entire show and one of my favourites, and like...how did they do that?? How did they make twenty minutes of talking so engaging and entertaining? I mean, yeah, I could probably analyze the pacing and structure to find the answer, and hell if I’ve watch my share of youtube video essays on the subject. But like, just the entire concept that someone had the idea to make 20 minutes of talking an entire episode....that’s just insane (forgive the language). 

It’s one thing to want to talk about yourself for a long time and be interesting, but to pour all kinds of energy to make some made-up fictional character talk about THEMselves for a long period of time...is that sad? Or maybe it’s respectable. /to make an audience care more about something that’s not real rather than you. Well, perhaps that’s selfish thinking. 

Oh! You know what, I just got this super nice message from someone the other day about a Raybands giveaway. Obviously, I’m not in the need for sunglasses during this day and age so I kindly declined and ignore the offer, but it got me thinking: how liked to you have to be in order to sway someone to clicking a random link. Like I’m talking about your friends or something, but like, if you opened your door oneday and Mr. Rogers was there selling clementines, would you buy them? Or if Lin Manuel Miranda offered you a vaccum, would you buy it? What’s the standard of known niceness that constitutes to you complying with what they’re asking? I sure would like to know....not for manipulation purposes but just for...idk, just having that tangibility of something. 

Ah well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw how am i doing. Well I’ll tell you what I’m doing, I’m procrastinating. Procrastinating on work and wips and conversations and dilemmas. You don’t fail all the shots you don’t take afterall *wink wink* aaand for legal reasons that was a joke. Idk, you tell me how I’m doing, fuck if I know. According to this empty mug, I’m doing well, but I also will be doing a piss in the bathroom probably.

[joon-ipersgirl]

O4 - “serendipity”

genre: strangers to lovers!au, angst, fluff

pairing: jimin x reader (f)

summary: they say home is where the heart is. you’re convinced yours was taken the day your father died. until you meet jimin. 

you believe in love but after watching men cycle through your mother’s arms, rocky relations with ex-boyfriends, and broken friendships, you no longer see it in your future. so much so, you never settle in one place long enough to create ties and call it home, choosing a job where you’re always on the go and on your own. 

on a chance encounter on a flight from new york city to bali, indonesia, you meet. flustered by jimin’s flirty advances but understanding and good-natured tendencies, you start to fall. what starts off as a work-trip soon blossoms into a budding romance, but will jimin’s secret destroy the relationship before it’s had the chance to truly begin?

word count: 5.5k

warnings: cursing, lots of fluff lol

a/n: part 4 wow! this is my favorite part i’ve written so far. it was a little difficult to edit but we made it. i hope you guys enjoy it. it might be a while before the next part is posted because i have to finish writing and i’ve had major writer’s block lmao, but i’ll try and update my updates page as often as i can. thank you guys for your comments and likes. as always, they are very much so appreciated. thank you to vi for listening to me rant about my stories. enjoy everyone!

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

Jimin looked drained by the time his conversation was over. His hair was out of place from the numerous times he had run his fingers through it out of frustration. Even his eyes looked like they had lost their usual glimmer, instead clouded with anger and exasperation. Though you hadn’t known him for long - in fact,  you’re sure it had really only been 40 hours - you knew something was wrong from the downturn of his lips.

“Ready to go?” Jimin asked as he shoved his phone into his pocket.

“Is everything okay?” you asked as you stood and pocketed your own phone, your own happiness taking a backseat to check on him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He ran his fingers through his hair again and looked away from you. “Just some stuff back home.”

“Work stuff?” you suggested with a wry smile. He returned it.

“Yeah, work stuff,” he said with a laugh.

As you headed back in the direction of the hostel, your thoughts drifted back to Milo. Seeing his photo made your heart pound in your chest in the best and worst way possible. He still looked like your little brother, but you knew time had brought changes you weren’t around for. Though Adele said she had given him your number, it was quite possible that he wouldn’t want to speak to you, not after you left him at the worst possible time. It would be a miracle if you could fix what was broken. What you broke.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You blinked up at Jimin.

“I asked if you were hungry?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Food sounds good right now,” you replied.

“Great, because I owe you a meal anyway,” he grinned.

“Oh, you mean for not finding me breakfast at 2:30 in the morning?” you teased. He rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Yeah, that,” he mumbled and slipped his hand in your as he tugged you through the streets of Hong Kong.

Jimin maneuvered through the bustling crowd with ease, their chatter filling the spaces between you. The evening was still as hot as the daytime and your hair started clinging to the side of your face. You knew there was a fine sheen of sweat present on your skin; you could feel it. You passed by numerous food places, but none of them were up to Jimin’s standard. All the while, his hand never left yours. You were actually starting to like it even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

“Yeah, this looks like the spot,” Jimin commented as you stopped abruptly in front of the establishment.

Mingsu’s was a quaint little restaurant nestled between some larger chains. Four sets of plastic tables and chairs sat on the sidewalk under a clear awning. The smell of food wafted from the open front door and your stomach grumbled. Yeah, this was definitely the spot.

“Your seat m’lady.” Jimin pulled out your chair and you sat carefully in it; these were the kind that would lay you on your ass and not think twice about it.

“Why thank you, kind Sir.” You bowed your head as a lady would curtsy. He sat across from you looking like he really could be the son of a mighty Lord during the Anglo-Saxon time period come home from the hunt, his hair sticking to his forehead.

It didn’t take long for your waitress, a middle-aged woman who looked to be just as hot as you were, to come and take your order. You listened in awe again as Jimin translated your orders. To think that it would be just your luck to be stranded in a foreign country with a man who also happened to speak the native tongue. God really looked out for you here and you couldn’t be more indebted.

“So how exactly did you learn to speak Cantonese?” you asked, swirling your straw between the ice cubes in your glass full of water, the condensation sliding down the sides. Your curiosity had finally gotten the best of you.

“My dad, actually. He taught me Korean and Cantonese simultaneously,” he replied, sipping on his Coke. “It wasn’t that fun in the moment, but I guess it comes in handy every now and then.”

“Like when you’re stranded in a foreign country because your plane got fucked up?”

“More like when you want to impress a pretty girl.” He grinned as he rested his chin on his palm while he stared at you. You blushed under his gaze.

“I can only imagine how flirty Mr. Park senior is,” you said with a laugh.

“Actually, he’s not. All the traits of me you find quite insufferable -” he added air quotes around the word “- are from my mom. Dad always thought we were ganging up on him when I was a kid, but Mom and I just have the same sense of humor,” he said with a shrug.

“Your mom and you are closer then I assume?” You couldn’t fathom being close with Adele, not after all of her shit, but it was nice to hear that someone enjoyed their mother’s company.

“As close as you can be when she lives 4,242 miles away,” he chuckled. You gasped. Before you could continue your conversation, your waitress returned with your roasted pork buns, stir-fried beef and flat noodles, steamed sticky rice, and an array of side dishes. Your mouth watered at the sight and you and Jimin wasted no time tucking in.

“Wait, I thought you were a vegetarian?” you asked after swallowing. Jimin glanced up at you with a mouth full roasted pork bun like a deer in headlights.

“Not really. Well, I guess that isn’t correct. I do my part to reduce my meat intake when I’m at home, but when I’m traveling, I like to indulge a little in the local delicacies of the world,” he answered.

“And that doesn’t fuck your stomach up?” You grimaced at the thought.

“Why? Are you worried about me?”

“No, I’m worried about that cramped bathroom we have back at the hostel.” Jimin laughed. “Especially if you decide you need to -”

“I promise you Y/N, I’ll be okay. Trust me.” you continued to eye him warily as you chewed some noodles. You hoped he was right.

“Does your mom really live 4,000 miles from you?” Jimin nodded but told you to hold that thought as he called your waitress over. Throughout their brief conversation, you thought you heard the word ‘sake’ being mentioned and you panicked slightly at the thought of drinking with Jimin. You didn’t know how you would act. Hell, you weren’t sure how he would act if drunk words were sober thoughts.

“To answer your question, yes. She does. She lives in the United Kingdom. Has done for the past 11 years. We text a lot and talk on the phone whenever the time difference permits.”

“Wow, your parents must love it there!” you exclaimed, picturing the London Eye, the double-decker red buses, and Buckingham Palace. London had been on my list of places to travel for a long time, but it had never worked out.

“Mom does, Dad didn’t. He’s back home now, home being Korea. No, they aren’t divorced or separated,” Jimin said, answering your unasked question after noticing your wide eyes. “They have a long-distance relationship and fly out to see one another every couple of weeks.”

“Sounds expensive,” you muttered.

Jimin graciously accepted the teapot and two porcelain white cups your waitress brought over, somehow finding space for them in between the various plates. He poured you a full cup and pushed it in front of you, waiting for me to accept his challenge as he raised his own glass, his usual mischievous glimmer back in his eyes. You carefully picked it up and watched the wispy tendrils of steam evaporate in the air.

“Sip, don’t toss it back,” Jimin guided you. “A toast! To friendship. And to love,” he tacked on playfully. You smiled as you clinked glasses and sipped the clear rice wine. Though it looked like water, it definitely didn’t taste like it.

“And it is expensive,” Jimin continued. “But they do it because they love each other.  I guess you could call it an unconventional marriage. They realized they work a lot better apart than being in the same space. They tried to do it the traditional way, Dad convincing Mom to move back to Korea with him while she was pregnant with me and the two of them getting married. She did it for a while too until she just physically couldn’t. She loved my Dad, but she loved herself enough to be honest with him when things weren’t working and they figured it out together. Now, they’re extremely happy,” he ended with a laugh and finished the remainder of his drink.

“So you were born in Korea?”

“Yes.”

“But you live in the United States?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I just -”

“Is it because I don’t speak in accented English?”

“No!” you cried out in embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant at all!” Jimin’s unrestrained laugh rang out and it was only then that you realized he was teasing. Again. You tossed back the rest of my drink, unsure of whether your face was burning because of the alcohol or him.

“Relax, Shutterfly. I’m not offended. Dad took me to the U.S. after Mom moved back to the U.K. I lost my accent when I got to high school because you know, teenagers suck and they like to bully you when you’re different.” You nodded in complete understanding. The harsh whispers of girls older than you and with the memories of them shoving you onto the ground because you were smaller and looked like you were easy to pick on trickled down from the deep recesses of your mind. “Enough about me though,” Jimin said as he refilled your cup, “How about you? What’s your family like?”

You paused as he waited for you to answer. You toyed with how much you would say to him, how much he really deserved to know. Jimin could afford to be open with you; his family sounded normal, cool even. Your family was a little bit more fucked up than his. you sighed and pushed your fingers through your hair.

“You know, the usual. Dad’s dead, mom’s a bitch, brother hates me,” you replied, your words blending into one another as you waved off the subject with a hand. Jimin stared at you evenly as he processed what you had just said. He cleared his throat before asking if you wanted to elaborate.

“Not really, but it’s okay,” you answered.

“No, Y/N,” he placed his hand on top of mine. “If you really don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.”

“Seriously, it’s cool. It’ll probably do me a lot of good to finally let it all out,” you said with a sigh. “My parents’ love story isn’t like yours. I mean, it kind of started off the same, but it definitely didn’t end that way.” Jimin nodded as he chewed in silence. Your own plate was now left untouched.

“So my dad named me. I was his little girl, his princess. He wasn’t from the best side of town and often got into it with a lot of the local gang members. He saw a lot of shitty stuff and so he left as soon as he turned 18. He landed in California and that’s where he met Adele. Her family had just moved there and she decided to be rebellious and hook up with my dad, acting out because she didn’t want to leave her old life behind. She ended up pregnant with me 2 years later at 18 after they ‘fell in love’,” you said, adding the air quotes around the phrase.

“Being the honorable man that he was, he decided to marry my mother and moved her to New York where he thought he could take better care of her. More job opportunities as and what not. Two years later, my brother came along and things were going pretty good, except when Adele started demanding more and more shit. Dad tried to provide, working longer hours, but it was never enough. Eventually, it was too much. He died of a heart attack when I was in high school. I was sixteen,” you finished. You didn’t look at Jimin as you drained your sake.

“Thank you for sharing that with me even though you didn’t really want to. I appreciate it,” he said solemnly. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“No, it’s fine. Only fair.”

“I don’t think fair is in this equation,” he chuckled and you laughed along with him. “Why do you think your brother hates you?” he asked after a beat.

“Because I left him,” you responded. “I left him alone and ran away from all my problems as soon as I turned 18.” Regret bubbled in your chest as you remembered purposefully ignoring the wave of text messages he sent you and carried on with your new life, focusing on your new man.

“I don’t think he hates you, Y/N.” you laughed bitterly. “Where’d you run away to?”

“California.”

“You sound a lot like your dad,” he replied with a smile. “Viva la revolución right?”

You groaned and covered your face in your hands. “Please don’t tell me you speak Spanish too.” you muttered a string of curses in the language before clamping your hands over your mouth in case he could hear and understand you.

“I don’t, but I see you do. You never told me you could speak Spanish,” he commented as he sipped more sake.

“You never asked,” you teased, your smile humorous as you stared at him from over your own cup.

Jimin’s cheeks had a pretty pink hue from the alcohol. In addition, the alcohol seemed to amplify the gleam in his eyes further as he teased you throughout your conversation. Under the low lighting of Mingsu’s, his skin glowed, a thin sheen of sweat present that you found oddly attractive on him. You closed your eyes gently as you willed the troublesome thoughts away. This was not the time nor the place for them to pop up, not with more than a few ounces of sake under your belt.

You finished the rest of your food, Jimin eating much more than you, and chatted more. You found out he was a freelance museum curator that was under contract for a few different small museums in New York City. A huge downplay on his part, but it explained how he knew so much about art and had all these artsy friends. He was well-educated with a Masters in Fine Arts, a concentration in Art History, and you felt intimidated as you’d barely managed to scrape together an Associates degree.

“Hey look!” Jimin turned his phone screen to you after it chimed. “Looks like we really are leaving tomorrow. Joy even got us seats next to each other like she promised,” he said.

“Of course she did,” you mumbled, remembering Joy’s enthusiasm over Jimin.

“What was that?” he asked as he cupped his ear with his hand.

“I said ‘Yay! Joy managed to get us to sit together. How fantastic. Now we can sit together again’,” you lied with fake zeal.

“Hmm. That’s what I thought you said. Though for a minute there I thought you were jealous of the attention I was getting from other women.” You could tell the nonchalance in his voice was just as fake as the enthusiasm in your own.

“Me? Jealous over you?” You snorted at the thought. Jimin held his chest, his face falling in a look of fake disappointment.

“Damn Y/N, all you had to do was say you didn’t like me -”

“I never said that!”

“Ah, so you do like me then?” He wiggled his eyebrows as he leaned across the table.

“I never said that either!” you giggled and pointed your finger at him. He pretended to bite it and you pulled it away squealing. Jimin laughed at your reaction as the waitress came over. He pulled out his wallet and you scrambled to take out your own until you realized you’d left your own wallet back at the hostel. You blanched.

“Jimin I can’t let you pay for all this!” The mountain of empty plates a reminder of just how much you had eaten.

“Of course you can,” he said as he handed over his card. You scrambled for something to say, to make him return his card, but it was already too late. You shook your head furiously.

“I can pay you back, seriously. This was a lot of food. And then the drinks!” you squeaked. Alcohol was expensive and you had consumed two full teapots of sake. “Please, Jimin,” you begged.

He held his ground as he signed the check and the waitress began removing the dirty dishes. “Absolutely not, Shutterfly. I still owe you an actual breakfast and think of this as me showing you what it’s like to be wined and dined. Mr. Park senior taught me never to let a woman pay for a meal, and I won’t start now, especially not with you.” He stood up and came to stand in front of you, holding his hands out as if he knew you could potentially wobble from the alcohol flowing through your system. “Let someone take care of you for once, yeah? Let me take care of you.”

You stared up at him, surprised at his words. It had been a long time since you’d heard anything like that. It had been a long time since you had let anyone come close to caring for you, determined that you would do it for yourself. Jimin was truly worming his way under your skin and you didn’t like it. You closed your eyes at the thought of Jimin really being there for you and it shook you to your core. Letting out a shaky breath, you placed your hands gently in his as he helped you to your feet, accepting his offer. On one condition.

“Only for tonight,” you whispered into his chest, not daring to look up into his deep brown eyes, but he forced you to as he dragged his lips tenderly against the back of your knuckles.

“Okay,” he agreed. His eyes never left yours and you started to squirm under his intense gaze. He pulled you into his side, tucking you under his arm. “Come on, I want to show you something,” he whispered into your hair as if the words were a secret only meant for the two of you. A shiver ran down your spine as his lips brushed against your temple though you were hotter than before from the alcohol in the humid night.

Jimin took you down the streets of Tsim Sha Tsui, pressing you close to him as you walked along leisurely. Little street vendors lined the sidewalk selling sweet treats that made you wish you hadn’t eaten as much so you could try one. You inhaled the scent and tried to commit the smell to memory, wanting to always remember how untroubled you felt though so many things had gone wrong, wanting to really remember how many things had gone.

“We’re here,” Jimin said excitedly and removed his arm from around your shoulder, settling for just holding your hand. You immediately missed the warmth of being against his side.

Here was a hole-in-the-wall restaurant and lounge called Switch!. Its outer brick walls contrasted with the smooth window panes of the establishments next to it. A heavy wooden door rattled as the thumping bass echoed off it. There were a few stragglers standing outside smoking cigarettes as they laughed and joked with one another. Jimin turned to you and grinned, excitement etched across his features.

“Jimin,” you said with uncertainty. “It’s getting kind of late,” you trailed off.

“It’s only a little after ten, Y/N. Come on. This place is really cool,” he insisted. You chewed your lip, not sure whether you could make it a minute longer. Between the alcohol in your bloodstream and the cigarette smoke starting to swirl in your lungs, you were feeling a little out of your element. “Please, Shutterfly,” he pouted. “I promise to have you back home by midnight and before your carriage turns back into a pumpkin.” You rolled your eyes but remembered Michael’s words about enjoying the moment.

“Fine,” you huffed and pulled open the hefty door. Jimin followed closely after.

Switch! resembled your favorite grunge dive bar. It was extremely dark, the only source of lighting being a few strips of LED lights lining the floor and ceilings, and some weak yellow light bulbs. The bar itself was long and made with beautiful redwood that somehow managed to shine in the dim lighting. An extensive alcohol collection sat on the numerous shelves behind the bar. Next to it was a corkboard that was nearly filled with little polaroid pictures of previous patrons. A live band was the source of the thumping bass you had heard outside and you let it wash over me, vibrating the very core of your bones. It seemed like Jimin had a knack for choosing great places.

The two of you headed over to sit in one of the small booths, a waiter appearing immediately to take your order. Jimin asked for two sake bombs to start you off, something about keeping the trend of the night, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the rickety wooden table. You watched him start to lose himself in the music as he kept time with the beat, his head swaying slowly. His posture exaggerated the broad expanse of his back and you stewed silently behind him, almost cursing his parents for creating a man as attractive as this. You crossed your legs at the knee.

Your waiter returned with your drinks and Jimin yelled a thank you over the loud music. Internally, you were grateful that it was too loud for you to continue your conversation as you were sure Jimin would continue his fervent flirting and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. Not after accepting his offer of letting him take care of you for the night. You took a large sip of the alcoholic mixture. Jimin leaned back and turned his head to you, his hand resting on your bare thigh.

“Do you like it? Are you having fun?” he asked loudly. You winced as his voice pierced through your eardrum.

“Yeah! This is cool. The band is really good!” you yelled back and he grinned, his smile a little lopsided no doubt from the alcohol. His eyes continued to sparkle as he stared down at you. With his hand on your thigh and his face seeming to move closer, all the air felt like it was sucked out of the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as his eyes drifted down to your lips -

“Excuse me?!” Your head snapped around to the individual yelling at you just as Jimin had closed the distance between you, his lips brushing the corner of yours. You could feel his lips stretch into a smile against your cheek as his nose pressed into your skin. You were quite positive he could feel the burn radiating off your cheeks. “Would you guys like to take a picture for our polaroid wall?” the man yelled again. In his hands was a teal polaroid camera.

“Is it free?” you yelled and tried to create some distance between you and Jimin. The photographer laughed and nodded his head.

“Can we get a copy of them to keep?” Jimin asked.

“Sure! I can take a few extra for you guys,” he replied with a shrug. “You guys ready?” Jimin nodded and slipped his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip with the other still resting on your knee. He smushed your faces together as the first picture was taken. The photographer took an additional three more after determining your smile wasn’t wide enough in the first one.

“I’ll leave these with you to develop. When you choose the one you guys want us to hang up, just drop it off at the bar. Thanks again!” He disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

“I’m going to go use the bathroom!” You didn’t wait for Jimin to respond as you eased your way out of the booth and scurried off.

Locking yourself into the single-stall restroom, you tried to catch your breath. You and Jimin had nearly kissed. It wasn’t something you’d dreamed about in an alcohol-induced haze. He had really leaned in like he wanted to kiss you. You pressed your hands to your face to stop the smile from bursting across your cheeks. You covered your face with your hands as you recognized the familiar tick in your chest. A crush. You giggled to yourself as you pushed your hands through your hair. You had a fucking crush on Park Jimin and you were a teensy bit okay with it. A knock at the door burst your bubble of revelation and you quickly washed your hands, apologizing to the other woman as you slipped by her.

“So I think we should give this one to them,” Jimin suggested, pushing the four photos over to you as you sat beside him again. He was pointing to the second one of you where we were both grinning like mad men as he had pressed his face against your own. “The other ones are too cute.”

He was right. The third was Jimin kissing your cheek and you covering your mouth in shock at his actions. The final one was him smiling into your cheek, caressing the other side as he pulled you against him and you smiled with your eyes closed and rested your hand against his arm. This one was your favorite.

“Yeah, you’re right. These came out a lot better than I thought they would,” you said, the bar much quieter as another band got prepared for their set.

“Why wouldn’t they turn out great?” he asked confused.

“You know, the lighting and stuff. Plus my hair and we’ve been drinking so I know my face is all -”

“Stop. You look amazing. Look!” Jimin held the pictures up for you though you were already looking at them; it seemed he was a little more drunk than you were. “Absolutely beautiful,” he added. You smiled softly at him as he placed your favorites into his wallet. “Okay, I’m going to go give them this one. Do you want another drink?” You shook my head no, still nursing your first, and watched him meander his way through the crowd gathered to hear the band. They started up a moment later, a smooth rhythm of R’n’B playing out through the speakers. The beat was infectious and you closed your eyes, dancing in your seat. It felt good to not be concerned with anything, though work still plagued the back of your mind.

“I didn’t know you could dance!” Jimin yelled over the music. You hadn’t noticed his return and his voice startled you.

“I don’t dance!” You said with a laugh.

“But you just were!”

“I really wouldn’t call that dancing, Jimin.”

“Well, show me what is then.” He held his hand out to you. More people had started to dance as well, the change in the atmosphere quite apparent. “Don’t you want to see what dance moves we have stored in the Park family?” You laughed and nearly fell out of the booth trying to imagine Mr. Park senior getting down at the family parties. You were quite intrigued.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go.”

You grabbed his hand after taking another generous mouthful of beer and led him onto the makeshift dance floor. Jimin spun you around to face him and guided your hands around his neck while his hands rested on your lower back, the two of you swaying in time to the song. It was gentle and sweet and you hid your face in his chest as he spun you around. Jimin looked happy as you danced hand in hand, laughing when you stumbled from being inebriated. You hoped that his phone call was as far back in his mind as you physically were from the United States.

You danced for God knows how long until your feet started to hurt and the two of you were almost wet with sweat, lost in the music and the soft touches of one another. Jimin made good on his promise and had you back at the hostel before midnight. If anyone had been downstairs, you would have looked like any lovesick teenagers sneaking home in the dead of night. You were grateful that William and Sonia hadn’t decided to wait up for you as you giggled your way to your room, you hushing Jimin as he unlocked your door.

“Thank you for taking me there, Jimin. I had a really good time tonight,” you said as you kicked off your sneakers and grabbed your sleep shirt and toothbrush.

“It was no trouble at all. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I had a really good time too,” he replied as he tugged his shirt over his head. Your eyes widened as you took in his smooth torso, the sprinkle of hair starting at his belly button and disappearing into his shorts that he was currently removing -

“Okay! I’m gonna go wait outside while you change! Let me know when you’re done,” you squeaked out and winced at the force at which you closed the door. You could hear Jimin chuckle from the other side. It was becoming quite tiring being flustered around him.

After receiving the all-clear from Jimin to re-enter, you slipped into the bathroom to change and brush your teeth. It was stupid at how happy you were to see your toothbrushes sitting next to each other in the little holder. Tugging the shirt down as far as it would go over your hips, you poked your head around the door to see Jimin already under the covers, one hand holding his book and the other tucked behind his head. So much for getting into bed without being seen. You folded your shorts and shirt, placing them on top of your backpack as you mentally prepared to face Jimin.

“I hope you don’t mind me not taking a shower. I didn’t think it was a good idea with the amount that I had to drink and I definitely don’t think you’re strong enough to pull me out of the shower if I fell,” he said, still not looking at you.

“Hey! I could probably manage!” you yelled, slightly offended that he thought you were weak.

“A naked me? Y/N, you can barely look at me with clothes on,” he snorted and set his book down on the nightstand and looked at you. You blushed as your eyes fell on the gold chain around his neck; he had decided not to wear a shirt to bed tonight. You watched him take in your figure, his eyes roaming over on your bare thighs for a few seconds longer than necessary. “But, if you think you can, I can go -” he started pulling the covers back but you cut him off.

“Nope!” you yelled and held your arms out as if you could magically force him not to move. “It’s fine, really. We can just go to sleep. Wouldn’t want you to get concussed or anything before our flight,” you mumbled. Double-checking the door was locked, you flicked off the light. You stubbed your toe just as you were about to climb in and Jimin laughed.

“Not as fun when it happens to you, right?” You punched his shoulder as you settled under the covers facing away from him, pretending to be mad. “Ah Y/N, come on.” Jimin shifted so he was cuddled up behind you, his hand thrown over your waist. “You’re not really mad at me, are you Shutterfly?” He pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your neck and you shivered. You could feel his grin against your skin again. Truly the bane of your existence.

“No, I’m not mad at you,” you mumbled.

“Good,” he replied and gave you a squeeze. “Thank you for telling me part of your story, for trusting me with that. Thank you for also letting me take care of you tonight. I hope you let me do it again,” he said as he pulled you closer against him and you sighed.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He punctuated his sentence with a kiss against your cheek, his lips lingering once again.

“Goodnight, Jimin,” you whispered back as he buried his face into your shoulder.

That night, you dreamed of museums, Mingsu’s, and live music.

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

ⓒ joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[bangtan-madi]

All Of Our Lifetimes — Three: Samothrace

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.5k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories? 

Part — 3 / 15

Warnings — language, mentions of murder (no description)

Previous — Next

On your way to breakfast the next morning, you get the call from Director Hyeon. What she tells you in the next few seconds nearly causes you to drop your phone and shout for joy, right in the middle of the sidewalk.

"We're offering you the job, [Y/n]. You're the most qualified and capable, by far. Everyone in the leadership has agreed that we can trust our boys to you. If you're interested...the position is yours."

Without giving your lungs a second to catch up with your erratic, excited breathing, you're exclaiming a vibrant, "Yes! Yes, I am very interested."

The details are finalized over the following week, which gives you just enough time to fly back home and pack up your belongings to ship overseas. Milo is a huge help, despite the fact that she's so jealous. While she has several interviews scheduled via telephone or Skype over the next few weeks, it will be a month or possibly more before she will join you in Seoul.

"I'm so jealous!" she tells you over and over. "So happy for you...but damn! I'm the one in the BTS army over here!"

"I'll see if I can snag you an autograph or something," you reply, half-joking.

Milo looks at you like you hold the world in your hands. "I would fucking marry you if you did."

"You'd marry me anyway."

At that, Milo merely flashes a wink and giggles to herself.

After your clothes and transportable belongings are packed and shipped overseas to your new apartment, the two of you drive to the airport in unusual silence, only a few items in your overhead luggage. It's not uncomfortable, but along the way, you both realize that this will be the last time you'll see each other for at least a month. 

Milo has been your best friend since middle school, and you've lived together since college. To be without her for that long, after all you've been through together, it's hitting you hard as the airport draws near. You reach for her hand over the armrest, lacing your fingers through hers.

"You're not gonna go run off and find some boy that keeps you in America, right?" you ask in a semi-joking tone.

Milo tilts her head as she stares at you from the passenger's side. "Only if you don't find a cute K-pop boy to fall in love with and forget all about me."

You make a faux gagging sound, drawing a smirk from your best friend. "Not a chance."

"Then don't test me, [Y/n]. I'll get a job and be with you in Seoul before we know it. A month isn't too long, and then we can be roomies again!"

Your hand tightens as you flash a genuine smile. "Wouldn't change it for the world."

You remain attached to each other until you get to the security check-in. Turning to Milo, you pull her into a tight embrace, one that she whole-heartedly returns. 

"Don't make me wait too long, okay?"

"'Course not," she chimes back, trying to keep her voice it's usual happy-go-lucky. "We're Siamese twins, you and me. Not gonna separate us!"

You say your temporary goodbyes—the only reason you don't break down being that you constantly remind yourself that it is only temporary—and depart for the security line. Passport in one hand, the other waving back to Milo, you hold tight to the shred of the past while running headfirst into your future.

One thing is for certain: things are going to change.

The first few days as a permanent resident of Seoul are spent settling into your new job and new apartment. And, as per usual in a major life change, there are things that go wrong that you couldn't have anticipated. You get lost on your way to work on your first day and end up being a few minutes late, one of your packages of clothing has not shown up yet despite everything else has arrived, and the office space at Big Hit evidently used to be occupied by someone who never cleared out their shitstorm of a file cabinet.

Needless to say, by the time the weekend arrives, you want to do nothing more than relax and recuperate and do something other than stare between two monitors. If you have to translate another word from Hangul into the English alphabet, you're going to chuck something out the window.

But, understandably, your apartment isn't in the best shape. Boxes are half-way unpacked, and plenty of furniture still needs to be bought. What has been unpacked is haphazardly tosses on any clean surface you can find. It's not exactly a den of peace and serenity, and probably not the ideal place to relax.

So, after doing some online shopping for said furniture and organizing as best you can, you decide to take the rest of the Saturday afternoon and do something you genuinely want to do. An idea pops into your head, and you grab your coat from the counter as you head for the door.

You never finished your tour of the Seoul Museum of Art, knowing for a fact that you haven't gotten to the architecture wing or portrait gallery. You feel your heart longing to go back and explore the remaining spots of the building, knowing in your soul that you need to be there.

What better time than the present?

You find your way easily, enjoying the brisk air that catches your skin and under your coat. The seasons are changing, shades of winter like white and grey settling into post-New Year's hues of mocha and beige. The city smells like green tea and feels like an ever-changing living organism.

Something tells you that more than just the seasons will be changing this year. 

Enter the museum, you find your way back towards the gallery where you left off. After the conversation with the stranger from yesterday, you were a bit too weirded out to really enjoy any of the other exhibits. Wandering for another hour, you hardly remember any of it. The story he told, the bloody fingerprint at the corner of "Vase with Honesty," it was all a bit too eerie for your liking.

But something in the back of your mind keeps prodding at you, and you desperately wish who that man was so that you could ask him more questions. How did he know about the murder? Why was he as drawn to the painting as you were? Why did he leave so abruptly?

All these questions circulate your mind as you round the corner, passing by the Van Gogh exhibit to your right. Just as you pass out of the entrance, you stop mid-step and turn on your heel, peaking back into the open space. 

Standing in front of "Vase with Honesty," the stranger from yesterday wears the beige hoodie and a white facemask. You might've missed him if it weren't for the way his eyes followed you from the entrance to the exit of the temporary exhibit, dark eyes dusted by curly hair. You think it unusual to recognize a stranger just from a few minutes of interaction, but your life has been anything but usual the past two weeks.

Instead, you offer a tiny smile and wave, stepping out of the arched entrance and towards the man. "Hi...again."

His eyes avert yours, shifting to the wall behind you, the paintings, the ceiling. Anywhere but at you. "Hi."

"Seems like we keep running into each other, hm?" you offer in a friendly tone. "Come back to see 'Vase with Honesty'?"

The stranger nods. "I'm a...big fan. Van Gogh's art is comforting. I've never known why."

His confession causes a genuine smile to spread across your face. "That's what art's for, silly. Van Gogh was a tortured soul, but I think he'd be happy to know that his life's work gives comfort to people, even..." You glance at the description card in front of the piece, searching for the date. "Even 136 years later."

His brown eyes flicker to yours again for a brief moment, and it's long enough for you to nod your head towards the expansive hallway. "Wanna walk with me? I got a few rooms in the museum yesterday, but not much more than that. Always nice to explore with others, don't you think?"

The shy man nods once and joins your side as you turn towards the interior, keeping a couple of feet between you. 

As you make your way to other wings, you and the stranger make small talk to pass the time. Well, you do most of the talking. You're not sure if this person doesn't trust you or if he's just catatonically shy, but he's refused to lower his hood or raise his head enough for you to get a good look at his face. His features are still obscured by his clothing and hair, but his voice is soothing the few times he does reply. His presence is calming. Something about the man puts you instantly at ease, and you find yourself being more friendly than you might be to any other stranger.

"Is Korean your first language?" he inquires, as you step into the empty room full of 20th-century modern art.

You shake your head, a slightly embarrassed heat rising in your cheeks. "That obvious, huh? I mean, I know I don't look Korean, but I was hoping I was passing all right."

He stops in front of a work by Georgia O'Keefe. "Not that obvious. I just heard a bit of an American lilt in a few of your words just now. You're very good."

"Oh...then, thanks."

"Why are you in Seoul, then? Visiting?"

"Working," you respond, moving to the other side of the room to view the other works of modern art. "I got a job in Yongsan. I just started this week."

The stranger's head perks up at your response, turning his face slightly towards yours. "How's that going?"

You shrug, making a non-committal noise. "I mean, it's a great job, don't get me wrong. It's just a lot. I moved away from America, from my long-time best friend and roommate, from everything I'd ever known for this job. And it's been a long first week full of things I didn't realize I was going to have to handle."

You shove your hands into your jacket pockets as the two of you turn to leave the room, enter back into the stark white hallway, and turn towards the next expansive opening.

"I shouldn't be complaining," you laugh. "The job is so much more than I could ask for, and I haven't even met a few of the people I'm supposed to work with. One of which I know I have a ton of questions for..." You shake your head. "I've have had this...let's call it a gut feeling, for a long time now. Go to Seoul. Go to South Korea. I knew my fate would bring me here one day, just didn't realize life would be so..."

"Hard?"

You turn towards your companion with an understanding sigh. "Yeah, hard."

A few moments of silence pass, and just as you're about to ask him about the bloody fingerprint and how he knew about the artist being murdered, you feel a chill run down your spine at the sight of the object in the room to your left. Not a chill from the cold or from nerves, this is a chill of familiarity. You turn your head slowly towards the object of your subconscious horror. 

"Winged Victory of Samothrace," or a copy of the one in the Louve, stands high and mighty, the lone object in the fluorescent-lit room.

"What is it?" the stranger asks, voice low and muffled by his mask.

You stare at the statue, unmoving for a full thirty seconds. "I—Does that statue look familiar to you at all?"

There's hesitation in his response, though you can't see his face. "I—I've seen it in Paris. That must be it."

You shake your head, clenching your trembling fists at your sides. "I've never been to Paris. I've never seen it before, not in person."

The stranger reaches out towards you, asking, "Are you okay? You're trembling."

In an attempt to clear your head, you drag your gaze away from Winged Victory and turn back towards the hallway. Visions from your nightmare force their way into your mind, but you shove them out, trying your hardest to keep them at bay as you walk ahead of your confused companion.

"Just a coincidence," you whisper to yourself. "Just a coin—"

Your sentence falls flat as you raise your gaze from the marble floors to the open space ahead. The chill returns, and your knees feel even weaker than before.

Pillars stretch up, cradling a spectacular glass ceiling, surrounding a spherical water fountain.

Your heartbeat races, and your throat closes up. The door you'd tried to lock in your brain crashes open, releasing all the terrible things your brain keeps replaying over and over and over. Doesn't matter if it's day or night, these visions never end.

An artist murdered. Two lovers on the run. A mad-man with a thirst for blood. 

And the death of you both in that very water fountain.

You stumble back, bumping into the stranger as you do. His eyes are wide and locked on the fountain, but you're too panicked to stop and investigate further. Every fiber of your being is telling you to run. To run as fast and as far as you can. 

Without explanation and without fail, you let your fear take you the mile's distance from that spherical fountain to the nearest metro station.

If you could physically go any faster or longer, you're sure in your heart that you would still be running.

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 26 and the epilogue of don’t read the last page are here!

masterpost

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

Thank you to everyone who has been reading and following along with this fic! Your support means the world to me.

november 1st

On the way home from the movie premiere, Anna was strangely quiet, her head against Kristoff’s shoulder and both hands on her stomach. It wasn’t until they were at home once more and he was helping her out of her gown that she said softly, “I don’t want to have the baby here.”

His hands stilled on the laces. “What do you mean here?”

“In LA.”

“But this is where your doctor is,” he said, frowning as she stepped out of the dress.

“Yeah. But I...I don’t know. Maybe this is crazy, but-- well, he mentioned a while back that in case we were ever up visiting your parents and something went wrong, that he used to practice up there, and he knows someone, and…”

Kristoff moved to stand in front of her, cupping her face in his hands as she looked up at him with worried eyes. “Why don’t you want to have the baby here?”

“Just...they’re all going to be there. All the photographers and reporters trying to be the first to get pictures, and I just...I don’t want that to be part of it. I want it to be just us. Do you think...do you think maybe we can figure it out?”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll call my mom tonight, see if we can stay up there with them.”

“But you have clinicals--”

“Just a couple more days, then my exams aren’t til the first week of December. And I still have days off allowed, so after the fourth, we’re good to go.”

She heaved out a sigh of relief. “I’ll call the doctor up there first thing in the morning. Are you sure your parents won’t mind?”

“Are you kidding me? They’re gonna be over the moon. Ellie, too.”

“And your brothers?”

“Nate’s already bought him and Liam both ‘world’s best uncle’ t-shirts. And Lilly, honestly, is gonna be pissed that she won’t be home til after he’s born. She’s already talking about just skipping her last week of classes to come home.”

Anna broke into a wide smile. “So...we’re doing this? I mean, assuming Milo doesn’t decide to make an appearance in the next three days?”

“Don’t jinx it,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her.

---

november 8th

Anna had been having a hard time sleeping the last month or so, but the past week had been nearly unbearable. Tonight she’d given up on it altogether and had rolled out of bed a little after midnight. Kristoff, who’d practically been sleeping with one eye open the entire time she’d been pregnant, had sat up immediately, but she’d kissed his cheek and said, “Go back to sleep, honey. You’ll be up all night with me soon enough.”

Now she found herself sitting-- well, leaning, really-- on his parents’ sofa watching Friends reruns and steadily making her way through a pint of pistachio ice cream. A creak came on the stairs, and she winced; preparing to make her apologies for waking up whoever it was. Before she had even turned around, though, Kristoff’s father said, “Only me, kiddo. And I’m up and down all night, anyway.”

After a minute, he joined her on the sofa with his own pint of ice cream. “What’s keeping you up, then?” he asked.

“Aches and pains and a little monster determined to turn my ribs into dust.”

He chuckled at that. “How you feeling besides that?”

She shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “Just...tired, I guess.”

“Understandable.”

The cramp in her lower belly worsened again, and she winced, shifting in a fruitless attempt to get more comfortable. Cliff noticed her movement and wordlessly handed her a throw pillow. “Thanks,” she sighed, setting it behind her back. 

For a while, they watched the show in companionable silence, occasional faint bursts of laughter escaping them. When it switched to an infomercial, though, Cliff cleared his throat and looked at her. “You have to excuse me, Anna, for being so quiet. You know I’m not really one for words.”

She winked at him. “It’s alright. Your son takes after you.”

He smiled and reached over to pat her hand. “I think he turned out pretty okay, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “He really did. I hope Milo does, too.”

Cliff nodded slowly. “Are you nervous?”

She’d been doing her best to hide it, but when he looked at her like that with his voice so gentle and his eyes so soft-- “Yes,” she admitted. “About-- about not just, you know, the labor part, but...what comes after. I guess I just...don’t know how to be a mom.”

He gave her another long, thoughtful nod. “Can I tell you a secret?”

She raised an eyebrow, inviting him to go on.

“I still don’t know how to be a dad. And I sure as hell don’t know how to be a granddad. But that’s the thing, kiddo-- nobody really knows. You just do your best to love ‘em and get them on the right path, and then…” He shrugged. “I guess the rest kinda follows.”

Anna felt her eyes begin to sting with tears, and without her having to say anything, Cliff moved to sit closer to her, pulling her into a hug. “And I want you to know, sweetheart,” he said softly, patting her shoulder, “that I think your mom and dad would be just as excited-- just as proud-- as I am.”

They held onto each other for a little while as Anna sniffled into his shoulder, but then another cramp started up, and she pulled back with a hiss. Cliff raised his eyebrows. “How long have you been hurting like that?”

“Oh, since I guess around lunch? But it’s fine, really, I pretty much never stop being achey at this point.”

“I’ve been down here with you for nearly forty-five minutes now, and even without my glasses I can tell it’s been hurting you more and more as time goes on.”

Anna frowned. “Well, that’s how this whole thing kinda works, isn’t-- ow, Jesus fucking-- sorry, Cliff.”

He squeezed her hand until the moment passed. “I think,” he said, his eyes warm, “you better go wake your husband up.”

---

november 9th

“I got here as fast as I could!” Sven panted as he burst into the room. “Tell me I didn’t-- oh, shit!”

“You’re really not supposed to use potty language like that around kids, you know,” Anna said, her eyes bright as she looked up from the bundle in her arms to smile at him. 

Sven stood frozen on the doorstep for a moment longer until Kristoff chuckled and said, “You wanna meet him?”

That was all it took for Sven to spring into action, and a moment later he was leaning over the side of the bed, getting as close as he could to the sleeping infant in Anna’s arms. “Shi-- shoot, man,” he breathed. “You got lucky.”

“I know I--”

“He got Anna’s nose.”

Anna burst into laughter. “Kristoff’s nose is just fine.”

“That’s the hormones talking. Can I hold him?” he asked eagerly.

When Elsa returned from the cafeteria a few moments later carrying a tray of coffees, for a moment they glared at each other, eyes narrowing, in a silent debate about whose turn it was to hold the baby, but then he squirmed in Sven’s arms and began to wail.

Sven handed him back to Anna immediately, who rolled her eyes. “He’s just hungry,” she teased. “What happened to you being the most competent godfather of all time, huh?”

“Part of being a good godfather is knowing when it’s time to pass him back,” he said magnanimously as Anna began to feed the baby. “Like right now, because I can’t do that.”

She laughed. “Okay, okay, point taken.”

---

Later, when it was just the three of them again, Kristoff moved to sit beside his wife on the bed. Anna snuggled happily against his side and carefully set the baby on his lap.

“Hey, Milo,” Kristoff whispered, reaching down to trace a finger over his son’s tiny hand. “Happy birthday.”

Milo Clifford Bjorgman-- that's what they'd decided on; his father had cried when they told him as he held his grandson for the first time.

Anna smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “We did a pretty good job, huh?”

“You’re the one who did the hard part. Even if you didn’t know that it was going on until-- what, one A.M.?”

She giggled. “If it wasn’t for your dad, I might have just had him on the kitchen floor.”

“Thank god he found you then,” Kristoff said drily. 

“It kinda worked out, though. That meant I was only worried about you passing out for a couple of hours.”

He was distracted from replying as Milo blinked sleepily and peered curiously up at him. “Hey, buddy,” Kristoff whispered. “How’s it going?”

Anna leaned her head against his shoulder. “Do you think he likes us?”

“Judging by how much he’s already eaten today, he definitely likes you.”

She giggled. “He sleeps better when you’re the one holding him, though.”

His lips tugged upwards into a smile. “Do you think so?”

“Oh, definitely. He gets that from his mama.”

Kristoff turned and kissed the top of her head. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Yeah. But it bears repeating, I think.”

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair. “I love you two more than anything in the world.”

She smiled and turned to kiss him. “Love you back.”

---

epilogue

“You sure you two are going to be okay?” Anna asked as she finished putting in her second earring.

Kristoff leaned down and kissed her cheek. “It’s just an ear infection, baby. I can take care of him.”

She frowned. “Yeah, but you’re still running a fever, and--”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Bulda said cheerfully as she bustled in, Milo in her arms. “Ellie, baby, why don’t you let Anna do that lipstick for you?”

“See?” Kristoff said as Anna turned to help his sister finish putting on her makeup. “I’m more worried about you two and the trouble you’re going to get into.”

“Us? Trouble?” Ellie said, rolling her eyes. “Please.”

“You’re still in trouble for skipping class, by the way,” Bulda said sternly. “And very much re-grounded as soon as tonight is over.”

“Mom!”

As the two of them began to argue, Kristoff took the opportunity to take Milo from his mother’s arms and walk into the kitchen with Anna, moving carefully to avoid stepping on the train of her long, golden gown. “You nervous?” he asked, passing her the baby.

Anna shrugged as she cradled Milo carefully against her chest. “Nah. I know I’m not going to win anything.”

“I mean, between three nominations...odds are good, right?”

“Nah. Musicals never really win the big awards. And considering one Disney movie got two songs nominated in that category, I don’t know why I even bothered working on an acceptance speech.”

“Well, in my opinion, Anastasia was the best movie of the year,” he replied with a wink. “Definitely had the hottest lead actress.”

“Get down here and kiss me before I put my lipstick on.”

He did so with a smile.

---

He’d grumbled all day about his mother coming by to help him out tonight-- “He’s my son, Ma, I can take care of him on my own”, to which she’d replied, “I know you can, but I just want every opportunity to love on my grandbaby, and I’ll be bringing your sister, anyway”, and Anna had interjected, “And he’s still running fever, Bulda, and I caught him trying to mow the lawn, anyway.”

But he had to admit he was grateful for it now as he sat nervously on the edge of the sofa, drumming his fingers against his knee. Anna and Ellie had both looked beautiful on the red carpet-- well, really, Ellie had looked nervous as hell, but when Anna had taken her hand in her own she’d relaxed for the most part-- but this time around, there was more for Anna to do than just look pretty.

“Now performing another of the numbers nominated for Best Original Song,” the host said, “here’s Anna Arendelle, singing ‘Under the Stars’ from Anastasia!”

There was silence for a moment before the slow swell of violins started to play, and then the lights rose to reveal Anna, looking like a goddess in her gown, as she began to sing, and despite himself Kristoff felt tears spring to his eyes.

“Look at her go,” his mom breathed, and on her lap even Milo seemed enraptured.

Anna finished the song to uproarious applause, and damn, he wished he’d protested harder about her telling him in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t going to the Oscars with a fever, because right now what he wanted more than anything was to run onstage and scream, “That’s my wife!”

Fifteen minutes later, when all five of the nominees for ‘Best Song’ were announced, his mother reached over and squeezed his hand as the camera landed on Anna and Ellie in the audience. They waited with bated breath as the announcer said, “And the Oscar goes to…’A Garden Full of Butterflies’ from To Those Who Wait!”

Both of them sat back with a sigh. “It’s alright,” Kristoff said, “there’s still the other two, right? And those are a bigger deal.”

Milo gurgled in agreement.

If he was being honest, Kristoff didn’t really give a shit about the rest of the ceremony-- he’d seen some of the movies with Anna, but in his opinion, most of the shit nominated for these awards was just depressing as hell-- and so he distracted himself from the waiting by tidying up around the house, straightening the rows of toys Milo’s aunts and uncles had spoiled him with and folding the blanket Anna had given him for their first Christmas together and rearranging the pictures on the fridge so that the one of the two of them on New Year’s was right next to the picture of the day they’d brought Milo home.

“Kris!” his mother squawked as he stood back to admire his handiwork. “They’re doing Best Actress!”

He hurried back into the living room just as the announcer for this award-- Hans, to his amusement, who had been nominated for nothing on his own merit-- said, “And the Oscar goes to...Anna Arendelle!”

The two of them erupted into whoops of joy, Milo joining in with a screech of his own. “That’s right, buddy,” Kristoff cheered as he swept his son into his arms, holding him high for a moment to make him squeal with delight before cradling him against his chest. “Mama did it!”

Anna’s eyes were shining even brighter than her gown as she took to the stage and accepted the statuette. “Wow, I-- wow,” she said, and the audience laughed fondly. “I don’t know what to say, I mean-- I wrote the speech and everything, but I didn’t actually study it because I never in a million years dreamed this would happen. I, um-- well, let me start of by saying thank you to everyone who worked on Anastasia with me, especially our wonderful director Destin Mattias. And thank you to my family as well-- my sister Elsa, especially, thank you for supporting me since we were kids.”

She grinned and looked right into the camera. “But most of all, thank you to my husband, Kristoff, who couldn’t be here right now because he’s taking care of our son. I love you more than anything, honey. Thank you for going on this crazy, incredible journey. I wouldn’t be here without you. Here’s to our happy ending.”

[number-one-micoverse-fan]

I, a Stranger and Afraid,  In a Land I Never Made

-A. E. Houseman

Inspired by the Pierly Body Swap AU currently playing out on Em’s blog.

------------

Aaron opened his eyes to a ceiling that wasn’t his.

It was a bed that wasn’t his, a room that wasn’t his, and pale, shaking hands that weren’t his.

He stumbled out of the bed, nearly falling over himself, stumbling over bare feet that weren’t his to collapse against a dresser that wasn’t his. His breathing was rapid and terrified and he was afraid of what he would see when he finally looked at the mirror on the dresser.

But he did it anyway.

Jake’s horrified face stared back at him.

Aaron stopped breathing.

He froze, fingers curled painfully tight against the edger of the dresser, something oily and cold slithering through his bones, coiling around his spine to settle in the pit of his stomach. His chest ached. Aaron raised a shaking hand to the side of his face and Jake in the mirror do the same thing. Trembling fingers carded through bed ruffled blond hair, scraped nails that weren’t jagged from chewing across the back of a goosepimpled neck, felt the rapid and erratic heartbeat pulsing beneath quivering fingertips. Watched the Jake in the mirror do the exact same thing.

“Oh my god…” Aaron wheezed and then pressed his hands—Jake’s hands?—over his mouth because that was Jake’s voice. Shivering like he’d been left outside in the cold, Aaron sank to the floor, scraping his back against the dresser as he turned away from the truth in the mirror. He drew his knees up to his chest, ducking his face into his legs, wrapping his arms over his head, making himself as small as he possibly could and trying to remember what breathing was supposed to feel like. The ache in his chest was growing into a dull pain, a palms scraped on asphalt sort of sting.

A knock on the door to the bedroom made him jump, frightened eyes swimming with tears widening as he stared at it. A small whimper escaped and he grabbed fistfuls of blond hair in a panic, pulling painfully at the roots, trying to wake himself up.

“Jake? You up yet? Breakfast is almost ready.”

Not a dream, couldn’t be a dream, dreams didn’t feel like this.

Aaron wanted to be sick.

He didn’t just look like Jake, he was in Jake’s body.

Somehow, impossibly, he was inside his older brother’s body.

But if he was here, then…where was Jake?

****

Jake opened his eyes to a ceiling that wasn’t his.

But it was one he knew.

He was out of the not-so-unfamiliar bed before he’d realized it, tangling in the sheets and crashing to the floor in a grunt that sent the air rushing out of his lungs, taking his unspoken scream of fear with it. He clawed across the ragged carpet, kicking to try and untangle himself, retching and heaving and desperate to breathe, desperate to escape.

His hair fell in front of his face and he shook his head to try and get it out—

Wait.

Black hair.

He froze, shivering on his belly on an old carpet that smelled of age and cigarette ash.

The hands in front of him were not his. The arms were too long, the skin too rough, the palms calloused and the knuckles bruised, the fingernails bitten into jagged, ugly points from nervous chewing. Jake raised the hands—his hands?—shakily to his face, palms scraping a rough and uneven stubble along his jaw, catching in greasy hair that was longer than he was used to. His gaze darted to the walls of the room and though much of it had changed, some of it was familiar; the faded poster of a sports car over the dresser, the second-hand bookshelf cluttered with games and unfolded socks, the dented and scraped silver metal baseball bat leaning against the wall by the door.

This was Aaron’s bedroom.

What the hell was he doing in Aaron’s room!?

Jake heaved himself up and threw the bedroom door open, tripping over legs that were too long and smashing into the doorframe with a hiss of pain.

“Keep it down!” A horribly familiar voice barked from down the hall and Jake felt such a bolt of fear that he scurried into the bathroom and bolted the door behind him without turning on the lights.

He stood shivering in the dark for a long moment, his back pressed against the door, chest heaving as he tried to get himself under control. Only when the room stopped spinning under his feet did he reach out and flick the light on. Even then, it took him several deep breaths to work up the courage to look in the mirror.

Aaron looked back at him, wearing an expression of hopeless terror that Jake had never seen on his brother before.

Jake pressed his hands against the cold surface of the mirror, eyes wide as he stared at his reflection—at Aaron’s face staring right back at him, at Aaron’s hands pressed against the reflective surface.

He was Aaron.

He was Aaron.

He was stuck in Aaron’s body and he was in the same house as his mother.

****

Aaron fumbled his way into a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt from nowhere. Then he slid cautiously out the bedroom door and into a hall, trailing it into the rest of the house. His gaze darted around, taking in as much as he could, startled by how…cozy it was.

This is where Jake lives… Aaron stared at a photo on the wall, at Jake’s happy and smiling face, the others with him who happily had their arms around him, at the friendliness of it all. It didn’t look familiar. It didn’t look real.

Aaron didn’t think he’d even seen Jake smile like that in his entire life.

A clatter from another room made him jump. He followed the sound to the kitchen where a very large man was bustling around, finishing his breakfast preparations. The smells were delicious and Aaron’s mouth watered hungrily. He moved towards the dining table, eyeing a cup of coffee still steaming next to an empty plate. Pale fingers reached for it only for it to be swept out of his reach by the huge man. The man chuckled in a teasing manner,

“Nuh-uh, mister, this one’s mine. This one, is yours.”

And he pressed a hot mug with the words “OKAY” on it into Aaron’s hand. Aaron starred into the dark coffee warming his palms and then glanced up at the other man; he was attending to the last of the breakfast, humming to himself. Aaron eyed the coffee again and took a small sip as he eased into a chair. He made a face and quickly set the mug down, pushing it away in disgust—decaf.

“Milo up yet?” The man asked, his back to Aaron as he sorted food onto plates by the stove.

“Um…” Said Aaron. Who the fuck is Milo??

“Yeah, we’d probably hear him if he was awake.” The man laughed as he set a couple of plates down on the table and took his own seat, “Well, we can just have breakfast without him. I have the day off so I’m spoiling everyone today.”

Aaron looked down at the plate in front of him; eggs and toast, a few bits of sausage, a couple small pancakes, and some hashbrowns. All of it perfectly cooked and like something straight out of a commercial for a family diner. He stared at it in something akin to awe. He’d never had someone cook him a meal like this before. It was like a dream. A far off dream he’d forgotten he’d had.

“Jake? You okay?”

The man was giving him a look of genuine concern from across the table, a forkful of eggs and sausage resting against the edge of his plate. Aaron swallowed hard, his throat dry, his mouth tasting like dust. His chest was hurting again.

“Um,” His voice caught somewhere in his lungs and came out strangled. He cleared his throat, “Um, yeah? I…I dunno. Um. Sorry, everything just—just feels kind of—I don’t…I’m not…” He trailed off, panic steadily climbing up inside him again, “I just don’t feel good. Today. Sorry.”

“Aw, Jake, that’s okay, don’t force yourself.” The man’s voice was gentle and kind and warm and Aaron felt a lump swelling in his throat, “You go grab a blanket and sit on the couch for now. I’ll bring you some toast later and you see if you’re up for that, okay?”

“Y-yeah…yeah, okay…” Aaron slid out of his chair, dazed by the generosity and concern. He was so stunned by what was happening that he startled badly when a large, warm arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him against an even warmer chest. The man leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Aaron’s messy blond head.

“Get some rest, Jake. You deserve it. Love you.”

The words were soft, gentle, sweet as spring time and crisp as autumn.

They burned in Aaron’s ears and seared his mind as he stumbled into the sitting room, dragging a blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around his shoulders. He curled in on himself, staring into the middle distance, trying to process what had just happened, wondering if he should have said something, said that he wasn’t Jake and that something had happened and that this was all wrong.

Get some rest. You deserve it. Love you.

When was the last time someone had told him they loved him?

When had anyone ever told him they loved him…?

****

Jake pulled the hood over his head and pressed his hands over his ears, trying to block out the insistent noise from the other side of the door. He was curled in the corner of the room, shaking so hard his knees where knocking together, his legs drawn to his chest, trying to tuck all of Aaron’s long limbs into as small a shape as possible.

The room was a mess; the bed was half pulled away from the wall, the dresser had been pushed halfway along the wall, and the bookshelf was tipped on its side, spilling its contents on the floor in a trail that led to the door it now blocked. The door that was shaking in its frame as someone hammered upon it from the other side. It was like a scene out of a horror movie. And to Jake, it was like a nightmare come to life.

He’d taken one step into the rest of the house and made eye contact with Donna, with his mother, and that had been enough. She’d barely started lecturing him when the fight, flight, or freeze instincts had kicked in. And Jake had run. He’d bolted out of the room so fast, the cheap hardwood floor had squealed under his bare feet. Donna had chased after him, yelling at him to get his scrawny ass back here! and I’m not finished talking to you!

Now she was pounding on the bedroom door and Jake was cowering in a corner of his younger brother’s room.

“AARON PIERLY YOU OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR RIGHT NOW!” Donna shrieked from the other side, rattling the handle, “OPEN IT RIGHT NOW! I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE, GODDAMNIT! YOU GODDAMN UNGRATEFUL BRAT! YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR USELESS BROTHER! NO GOOD LEECH!”

Jake squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaking down his face, and pressed his palms so hard against his eats that it hurt. He was hyperventilating, chest heaving, head spinning, his entire body soaked in fear and sweat and adrenaline that had no where to go. A desperate whine escaped his clenched teeth, breaking off into a breathless heave for air. He wanted to scream but there was no sound that could encapsulate the pure horror he was experiencing.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN RUN AWAY!? WHERE WOULD YOU GO, HUH!? NO ONE WANTS YOU! NOT A SCUMMY THING LIKE YOU! GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL MAKE YOU REGRET IT, AARON!”

The fear was so great and terrible that it made him wretch, spitting out a dribble of stinging stomach acid and coughing as it burned his nose and throat. The door kept shaking and banging. Jake’s head was throbbing, his arms aching, his legs shaking, his head spinning in a million different directions. His heart pounded, strong and healthy, in a chest that wasn’t his, in a room that wasn’t his, in a house that he’d gotten out of years ago.

His only solace was that at least he couldn’t have a heart attack.

****

Milo, as it turned out, was a little red head in a stupid shark hoodie.

He was annoying and small and covered in freckles. But when the big guy had told him to be quiet because “Jake’s not feeling well”, Milo had settled right down on the couch next to him with a juicebox and a bag of shark crackers and fallen quiet. The television was playing some kind of documentary that Aaron wasn’t paying attention to, staring at the screen without really taking it in.

There was a kid leaning against him.

A kid who was almost as tall as Jake was when they were kids. A kid who loved and trust Jake enough to just…snuggle up to him like it was no big deal. He hadn’t even asked, he’d just. Done it.

With a damn juicebox of all things.

Aaron was curled under his blanket, arms hugging his knees to his chest. He wasn’t…scared. He wasn’t angry. He just couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the unconditional love Jake’s housemates had for him. Who even were these people? Was the kid Jake’s? Was the big man Jake’s boyfriend? Did they have a third adult roommate?

How many friends did Jake have? (Aaron didn’t have any.)

Did Jake have a job? (Aaron didn’t.)

Where were they even living? (Hadn’t heard from Jake in years.)

Why did Jake get all of this, while Aaron got—

His chest ached and he bit his lip hard. Maybe it was best not to go down that road.

“Hey dad?”

Best not to dwell on things that could have been. Even though Aaron couldn’t help but wonder—

“Dad?”

--would his life have been this perfect—

“Dad.”

—if he had gotten away too?

“Dad!” A tug on his blanket made him gasp and jolt in his seat, jerking around to stare at the boy next to him. Milo was frowning but it was a look of concern, not anger or disappointment. Another expression that Aaron was not at all used to seeing, and one that certainly twisted something inside him into shaky knots.

“Uh, I—yeah, what? Sorry. What—what do you…need?”

“Are you gonna be okay?” Worry softened the edges of Milo’s words, concern and fear and love and distress spilling out of his eyes as they stared imploringly up at Aaron, “Is…is it a heart thing?”

A heart thing?

Jake had a heart thing?

Maybe it had something to do with the pressure under his ribcage. It had been a constant, gnawing twinge in his chest since he’d woken up in Jake’s body, an irritating pulse of pain that stabbed its way through his left side and lodged itself into the general area he thought a heart might be.

Milo was still looking up at him, waiting for an answer, concern and love dancing in the depths of his eyes. It made the inside of Aaron’s chest ache in a different way.

“I’m…y-yeah. Yeah, it’s…a heart thing.”

“Oh.” Milo ducked his head and tucked himself deeper against Aaron’s (Jake’s) side. Almost absently, Aaron put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. When he’d realized what he was doing, he wanted to yank his arm back, put some distance between himself and this stranger, stop infecting Jake’s perfect family life with his presence.

But Milo was warm and welcoming and soft and he relaxed against Aaron’s side with a gentle sigh like he belonged there.

So Aaron put his cheek against soft, red hair, closed his eyes, and let it be. Just for the moment. He let himself pretend, if only just for the moment.