#are they still my most precious possessions? absolutely. one hundred percent.

[7fuckingidiots]

Best Christmas gift I got was my 7Seeds collection back from my Mom's house

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Separation AU Part 2!

@grant-likes-minecraft and @shadeswift99, this is for you! Part 2 of the Impulse/Skizz Separation AU, inspired by your posts earlier.

...

  When Doc had first shown Team ZIT his infinity portal, claiming it could take you to the place you most wanted to go, their initial reaction had been to laugh knowingly, because how could there be a place other than Hermitcraft where they would want to go? 

  But Impulse found he couldn’t stop thinking about this mysterious portal, so he returned to it the next morning and sat down in front of it, staring into the swirling pink vortex and wondering what would happen if he went through.

  His mind jumped guiltily back to someone whom he hadn’t thought about in several months. Would this portal take Impulse back to… to HIM? 

  It had been four and a half years since Impulse and Skizzleman had been separated. For a long time, Impulse’s heart had been split between Hermitcraft and his old friend, but lately, he had been pouring a hundred percent of his energy into his projects, and that wasn’t even including how busy he had been with Grian and Ren, protesting against Area 77. There was no time for nostalgia. 

  But now that all that was over, he had time. He could just sit here for a few hours, thinking and remembering. All the good times he had had with Skizzleman over the years. He had new best friends in Tango and Zedaph, of course. But did he love his life with them more than he missed his life with Skizzleman?

  After a long time, he came to the conclusion that if he stepped through this portal, it would likely take him back to Skizzleman. 

  So NOW the question was… did he want to do that? Did he want to leave Hermitcraft behind for this one-way trip back to the world he and Skizzleman had grown up in? Would his best friend even still be there, still waiting for him? 

  “Hey, Impulse!” 

  Impulse jerked so hard he nearly fell over. Glancing to his left, he spotted Zedaph coming towards him, hands in his pockets. “Oh, hey, Zed. How’s it going?”

  “Oh, not too bad.” Zedaph sat down beside his friend, giving him a sideways look. “You, on the other hand, look like you’ve been thinking a little too intensely for a little too long.”

  “I think I have,” Impulse sighed. “It’s this portal, man. Doc said it’ll take us to where we most want to go.”

  Zedaph’s gaze flickered from Impulse to the portal, then back again a few seconds later. He had been told long ago the story and circumstances of how Impulse had come to be on Hermitcraft, and it certainly didn’t take a genius to figure out what Impulse had been thinking about. “Are you gonna go through it?”

  Impulse’s lack of an immediate response worried Zedaph. “I don’t know, honestly. It could take me back to my best friend, which I never thought possible after I got summoned here, but… I’m still thinking about whether I want that or not.”

  “Ah.” Zedaph cleared his throat. “Well… for what it’s worth, I think you’ve got a good life here. Whatever might be waiting for you on the other side of that portal, is it worth giving up Hermitcraft for?”

  Impulse hesitated, his gaze fixed on the portal again. “I guess… I better think about this some more.” Realising how late it was getting, he rose to his feet and stretched his limbs. “I’m gonna go home and get some sleep. See you tomorrow, man.”

  Zedaph nodded back. “See you tomorrow.”

…

  “Zed, I’m… I’m a little scared,” Tango admitted to his best friend. “I saw the way Impulse was looking at that portal when Doc showed us the other day. I-I’m scared he’s gonna leave.”

  “Really?” Zedaph frowned. “Why?”

  “Because… Because it was my idea to summon him from his own world and bring him here. It was my fault he got ripped away from Skizzleman forever. What if he’s gonna take this opportunity to go back to him? What if… What if he wants to be with Skizz more than he wants to be here, on Hermitcraft, with us?”

  Zedaph hesitated, wondering whether or not to tell Tango what he had seen yesterday. 

  “I mean, I don’t regret bringing him here,” Tango added. “Not at all. These last few years have been some of the best of my life, and it only got better when you joined. I just… can’t help feeling guilty. And scared.”

  This helped Zedaph make up his mind. “Then… there’s something you should know.”

  He quickly told Tango about his encounter with Impulse at the portal.

  “...and then he went home,” he finished. “I’m really worried about him; it sounds like he was only a few seconds away from going through that portal yesterday.”

  Tango stared at him, another pang of guilt shooting through his heart. “He’s been on Hermitcraft nearly five years; isn’t he happy here? Would he really just leave us…?”

  “I don’t know,” Zedaph replied quietly. “I just think maybe you should talk to him, see if you can get a more accurate impression of his thoughts.”

  “Yeah, I think I will.” 

  Sure enough, later that night, Tango went round to Impulse’s base and knocked on the door. Receiving no reply, he entered and made his way quietly up to Impulse’s bedroom to check if his best friend was sleeping.

  But Impulse’s bedroom was empty. 

  Sighing, Tango went to the window and looked out, but saw no sign of his friend. As he turned away, he accidentally knocked the flower pot off the window ledge, causing it to roll almost under Impulse’s bed. He knelt down to pick it up but that was when he spotted something unusual underneath his friend’s bed. After putting the flowerpot back in place, he reached under and pulled it out.

  It was an unzipped duffle bag, with items Tango recognised as some of Impulse’s most precious possessions inside. 

  His heart stopped. 

  He… He really is going to leave…!

  Tears filled his eyes, but he quickly shoved the bag back under the bed and fled. 

…

  Unable to sleep, Impulse was back at the portal, his mind and heart aching with painful thoughts and feelings. Why didn’t he want to leave? Here was a way to finally be reunited with the person he loved most in the universe, and here he was, hesitating. Had things really changed that much in over four years?

  Yes, yes they had, he realised. He had grown as a person more here than he ever had in his world with Skizzleman. And that wasn’t his fault, right? In an environment where he was surrounded by close friends and his skills were challenged every day, it was only natural he would grow and change. He wasn’t the same Impulse who had been plucked from his world all those years ago, and he would be willing to bet Skizzleman wasn’t the same person who had watched his best friend disappear in front of his eyes. 

  It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t ask to be brought here. Maybe at first he had only stayed because he had known there was no way back, but he had settled here. Made a new life. 

  Hermitcraft was his home, and nothing would ever change that. 

  But Skizzleman was also his home. He had been Impulse’s home for far longer than Hermitcraft had been. 

  So where would this portal even take him…?

...and did he even want to find out?

…

  A few more months went by. The first few weeks after the introduction of the portal were the tensest ever in Team ZIT’s friendship, but as time went on, the portal became just another memory in the back of their minds. 

  All too soon, season 6 had ended and season 7 was upon them. At the first meeting on their new world, Tango couldn’t help sneaking glances at Impulse every now and then. He seemed happy, if a little preoccupied. A new world, a new life. 

  One without the infinity portal.

  Tango couldn’t shake his guilt. Of course he was relieved that Impulse hadn’t gone through the portal, but he couldn’t stop thinking about why. Why he hadn’t left when he had the chance. Surely that meant Impulse was happy here, right? He was happy on Hermitcraft. He was happy with Tango and Zedaph. 

  But it had been Tango’s idea to summon Impulse to Hermitcraft in the first place. The guilt had gnawed away at him for so long, only fading in the latter half of season three, when it became clear that Impulse was settling into his new life. Now it had been reignited. Would it have been better to let Impulse go? Was it selfish of him to keep Impulse here? WAS he the only thing keeping Impulse here?

  Not knowing was absolute torture.

  But as Team ZIT split off from the group to explore their new world together, Tango noticed how Impulse was chatting happily with Zedaph, even playfully shoving him into a bush. It was as if all thoughts of the infinity portal had simply vanished from his mind. 

  So Tango did his best to forget as well, and soon, he was able to relax and mess around with his best friends, the three of them laughing as they discussed their plans for the season. 

  But none of them would ever truly forget.

[mochikeiji]

Rockabye, My Love

↠ Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

↠ Warning: slight fluff, soft father/daughter moments, angst. Trigger Warning: mentions of death, depression.

↬ Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Every lyrics had a deeper meaning in them than just words that'll fit a song. Yours was heavier than anyone could think of, and Akaashi was singing it to his beloved baby girl.

↣ a/n: ohayo world! I'm sorry for late posts, expect the upcoming ones soon. School was giving too much works again. Thank you all for loving my Day 2 fic in Akaashi Week!! Also, the lullaby in this lyrics is the same tune as Isabella's Lullaby from The Promised Neverland.

⇢ Day 3: Single Parent AU

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine.

You are the most precious thing I have loved.

I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more.

I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you.

You are the most beautiful thing that has came.

I will protect you forever, my love."

Life is difficult in many ways. It's either we were born different, have lost someone dear or have lost ourselves. It's no wonder how millions of people from all around the world, evert second, minute, hour— someone gives up on everything. It was cruel, disturbing, most of all heart breaking.

Akaashi never understood your true intentions. He was one hundred percent sure he had kept an eye on you at all cost. He's made you smile brighter, he's understood you more than anyone. He made you feel alive.

Yet now you ended up being dead to your own inner demons.

He remembers coming home after receiving good news from his company. He had received a promotion and a week off just for you. That was when the hospital had contacted him. He can recall his ragged breathing when he was allowed to place a foot in your room. Your monitor beating in an ever agonizingly slow rhythm, he knew it wasn't normal and immediately ran to your side.

He wanted to yell, scream, ask you why, why did you do this to yourself but he couldn't, not when you looked at him so scared and weak. The doctors had told him that he had only a few minutes with his wife, the drugs you've intake was too much, not everything was removed nor pumped out of your system. Akaashi never felt so depressed in all his life after that situation as he buried himself into your chest, listening to your lullabies that soon died down along with the light in your eyes.

That was the only reminisces he's had with you,the lullaby you would sing to yourself as a teen who strived to survive the world, a lullaby for his anxieties and own demons to be tamed, and the last thing you ever said. He was happy that over the years before your death, you had given him a customized music box that had the right notes of your song, only this time no one was singing it.

Fingers tapping anxiously on his work table, Akaashi started to fiddle with his thumb and then his index, losing his focus despite looking at the same drafted page lit up on his computer screen. He kept eyeing the pack of cigarettes that was just on the edge of his window— he needed one right now. Cigarettes were the last options he has for when he couldn't calm his beating heart or let his emotions out. But he knows how wrong it was to be damaging his health, and he knows he's going to get an earful from Bokuto since he visits his apartment every weekend. Even if Akaashi tries to hide his dirty deeds, Bokuto wasn't stupid to read through his eyes like before.

Foot was starting to bounce, his eyebrows were beginning to furrow, as if he was irritated, in trouble, or something. It wss getting harder for him, who wouldn't after losing their wife? The person he's loved since his teen years, the one he's vowed to never make her feel like how she did in the past. He failed you. He blames himself for all that matter, if he's added more precautions, maybe you'd still be here.

He bites his lips and whimpers, hands ruffling through his tossled hair and holding his head as his elbows were supporting him on the table. Everything was closing in once more, the walls to his workspace became suffocating, how he wishes one of his friends or yours would come knocking at his door even though it was already 2:30 am knowing how reckless he's getting. He swore he wasn't going to die sooner as you did. He promised to himself to let you and his memories live on, because once he dies, no one will ever remember the battles you've fought for, the good things you've done to many, and the love you've shared with him throughout the years.

"It's so hard without you, love.."

Eyes finally cracking with tears behind his glasses, he lets them stream down his face with his body shaking on his chair. Soon enough he was bound to get another headache from extreme emotion and will probably lay the whole day about it. But none of that mattered to him anymore.

He just wanted you back.

But his cries weren't the only ones that can be heard in his apartment.

Jolting up to realization, he carelessly wipes away his tears with his sleeves and tumbles our of his chair straight to his room. His heart was beating fast in worry and adrenaline, he thought the source of the crying in his room had been taken away or worse.

But it turns out, it was just his little baby girl crying in lonliness.

As he got closer, her cries were getting deafening, but he didn't mind. Not when his heart was swooning with guilt when he thought of giving up and caving to his own needs when he's forgotten he has a reason to continue on.

With the night lamp on at the side of her crib and his bed, he cooes at the sobbing baby with sweet nothings to catch her attention. Th cries immediately died down and replaced with sniffles and the baby looking up hazily at the dark figure above her.

Smiling, Akaashi carefully picks her up from the crib to cradle her on his chest. Giving her small pats on her back with hush whispers when he feels her stretch on his body.

"Shhh, I'm sorry, were you lonely?"

Grabbing on the string of his lamp shade on the nightstand, he pulls the string, allowing more light to glow in his room, and for his little girl to finally see that she wasn't alone anymore. Akaashi swayed gently as he remained in eye contact with the baby, smiling ever so slightly at the unreadable expression his daughter was possessing and played with her fingers.

"Maybe I should work with you around, you never really like it in the dark, do you, baby?"

His little girl cooes at him, curious of what language he was speaking to her and hopes he understood what she was saying as well. Akaashi's heart swelled at the adorable sound and nuzzled his face softly on her stomach, the baby still confused as ever but just clenches her hands in wonder.

His anxieties and thoughts disappearing in the air whilst he sat down on his bed and held his baby near to where his hesrt was beating. The same day you died, was the same day you had given birth. It was a miracle for the baby to be healthy despite what you had intake. He remembers after your announced death, the nurses had to usher him out, but only to drag him into another room where lies a bassinet and a couple of IV's attached and treatments.

When he got closer, his world was shaken that day. The sight of you and his baby alive and now existing after 9 months of waiting was there right before his eyes. But his heart broke at the thought of him being the only one to raise her, and her not having to meet her beloved mother. He was so emotional that day that he almost lost it when he realizes why she was kept in there and why there were so much stuff in this room. He didn't want to think thag he was losing another one when he had just met her.

The nurses explained that there was nothing wrong with the baby, just taking further check ups and to ensure she was absolutely healthy. He was already been forced outside your room that no longer held light, he wasn't going to leave the room where his daughter was until he holds her in his arms where he knows she'll be at the safest.

As time went by to now, Akaashi feared her growing up in the future. She resembled mostly to you. She was a dead carbon copy of you and he was terrified she'd experience what you have as history might repeat itself. The very thought of his daughter having something inside her little head without telling him scares him, Akaashi knew how cruel the world can be and hoe each second in life matters because we are unaware of the deaths happening at those time.

He prayed his baby girl wouldn't go through what you did as a child and carry it until she grows up. He hopes and believed in his own strength that he wasn't going to fail her this time— that there will be no person by her side and will lovd and protect her other than her daddy.

His tears blocking his vision of her as he held her tightly. He whimpers at remembering his thoughts earlier. He wanted to curse himself from thinking of leaving his daughter to fend for herself in this world and to find a way to be back to you. But he knows he was still with you, your daughter was the last love you could ever give him and he was going to love her more than anything.

The trembling of his body stops when his baby started to cry and squirm in his hold. Her whimpers breaking his heart when he couldn't solve her distress, it seemed like she was in pain and he knew this situation like in the past.

"Shh, shh, I'm here. I'm always here. I'm sorry."

Reciting out the same line he's used when he held you against his body that night. You cried and held a hand to your heart that day as he hugged you tighter. The demons inside you he had curse to go away and leave you alone. But they didn't.

An idea popped in his head and reached out inside his nightstand drawer. The little music box you have crafted for him still looked the same as it was before since it was taken with good care. He proceeded to wind it gently to let the soft tune play as he stood up once more to cradle his crying baby.

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine."

He sings the first verse of the long memorized lullaby you sang for him. Using his thumb to wipe away the little tears that had escaped his daughters eyes. Her cries were stopped momentarily and were replaced by sniffles. Her dazed eyes making eye contact with her father's.

"You are the most precious thing I have loved."

Akaashi would be cringing thinking his voice was terrible, but the little girl in his arms seemed to be intrigued and loving the harmonized voice of her daddy and an unknown tune from the background.

His voice was smooth and soft. Completely out of character from his monotone one, but enough to capture the attention of someone.

"I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more."

He couldn't tell if he was singing the lullaby to her or he was making a silent vow to her. The lullaby you sang to him for the first time he tried searching for in the internet what the lyrics meant and who wrote it. Sadly, there were no results that came up that day.

And you never really told him how you got that song and who it was referring to in the lyrics.

But nevertheless, the lyrics could never be at the right time as it was now. It felt like he was reminding himself of what his role was from now on and what his daughter should always remember as she grows up.

No one was going to hurt her on her watch.

"I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you."

At the end of that line his voice cracks as he held back his own tears. He can hear only now your voice and hoe you would thread his hair during nights of distress. How he missed so many cracks of your voice from being too intrigued with the song. How he missed the fact that you needed him the most those nights of terror, yet you chose to make him feel secure and loved without leaving anything for yourself.

Slowly, his mind was connecting all the lyrics and your actions in his head. You were a self reliant person.

You sang this song in reminder that you were loved, beautiful and was protected by the few people that truly loved you. This song was meant to keep you alive.

To keep him going.

And now

It was a vow from him to his daughter.

"You are the most beautiful thing that has came."

Smiling sadly down to his baby now calmed down and listening intently to her daddy, Akaashi leans down to press kisses on her face with his tears sliding down.

He should've sang this to you when you needed it the most. A reminder of what you truly were to him. He hopes deep inside, somewhere up there or in his room you were listening. Listening to him remind you and his daughter— his world and universe, that he was going to be stronger and fulfill his own promises.

One day he was going to meet you in another life he believed, where he'd make you stay, where you and him will raise your little girl once again and he'll wake up next to you. Where he'll be the one singing this lullaby tune as he hold you both in his arms.

But for now, it was just going to be him and his baby girl.

"I will, protect you. Forever, my love."

[yoonminfiction]

Hi can you rec me some really good fics that have side Yoonmin? Main otp doesn’t matter! Thank uuuu

Oh is this going to be long

Harmless by Untested_Waters  (VHopeKook)

Jungkook is fine, really. He doesn’t need Taehyung and Hoseok’s help. Except for the fact that he is absolutely not fine and really, really needs Taehyung and Hoseok’s help.  (Rated: M)

 Crazy Is Most Definitely Genetic by CaliCocoa  (NamJin)

family!au where Jimin’s just trying to survive high school, Taehyung keeps weirding everyone out, Namjoon is an embarrassing dad, Jin is supermom, and Jungkookie’s just along for the ride.  

Can I Get Your Dewey Decimal Number? by melecs  (NamJin)

Seokjin loved working at the library, but some patrons got on his nerves. Take, for example, the grown man who sat in the corner every day and leeched off of the Wi-Fi. And Seokjin worked in the children’s department.

Hapless by Untested_Waters  (NamJin)

Seokjin’s heat comes a little early but Namjoon is still there to help him through it. (Shameful sequel to Helpless)  (Rated: M)

Will you be my Forever? by flywithtaetae (kimtaehyungs)  (TaeKook)

From the moment Jungkook turned 18, he had been excited to see the numbers appear on his wrist.

762

Just 762 days before he finally meets his soulmate.

524

374

341

And then it stops. (Rated: M)

Of clueless mates and stupid best friends by chihiro  (TaeKook)

Taehyung somehow adopts a wolf and finds himself a possessive stalker at the same time.

Jimin is 500% done with everything. (Rated: M)

Comeback Kids by rix  (TaeKook)

Taehyung is infuriating and Jungkook’s always been easy to rile up. Which isn’t the best combination, but also isn’t the worst, either.

(or: Taekook as hockey fuckboy rivals) (Rated: M)

I Bloomed For You… by Meanie_Beanie_nim  (TaeKook)

Jungkook just barely registered the warm soft skin of Taehyung’s palm, before his whole world changed. His skin prickled almost painfully, and it felt like somebody had sent a great wave of electricity crackling through him. The world went black for barely a second as a strange weight settled in his chest, and then the world came rushing back like a flood.

He looked up with wide eyes at Taehyung - no, at his soulmate - and expected to be met with the same surprised eyes as his own, but Taehyung just looked at him with a carefree smile.

“See you soon, Jungkookie,” he grinned teasingly before releasing Jungkook’s hand and turning around to leave. Jungkook stood there for several minutes, just staring at the spot where Taehyung had disappeared, with only one thought in his head.  

Why had his soulmate just left him? (Rated: M)

Hickory by rix  (TaeKook)

Jungkook should be focused on winning, but his mind’s stuck on wondering whether or not this Kim Taehyung guy fucks harder than he hits.  (Rated: M)

See You Through the Screen by pixelmins  (TaeKook)

It started when kookie97 followed kimtaetae, a popular internet blogger and superfan of the famous Korean pop idol Jeon Jeongguk.

Or: Taehyung befriends his favorite singer without even knowing it.

Hustlers by tbz  (TaeKook)

Jungkook hadn’t meant to lose nine million.

He certainly hadn’t meant to lose his kidney.

And he hadn’t meant to meet Kim Taehyung. (Rated: M)

Unwanted Butterflies by Lookingathimhurts  (TaeKook)

Jungkook and Taehyung hate each other. Except, of course, when they’re having sex. (Rated:M)

Fall Asleep (Fall For You) by drannie  (TaeKook)

“They say when you fall in love you can’t fall asleep, but now that I’ve met you I feel like I finally can.”

A University AU where Jungkook and Taehyung become roommates. But Jungkook has insomnia and can’t fall asleep with other people and Taehyung can’t fall asleep alone. (Rated: M)

chong! jojun! balsa! (point! aim! shoot!) by nutaella  (TaeKook)

jimjams ㅇㅈㅇ: listen to our parents for once, child

father: you’re a child yourself, jimin.

jimjams ㅇㅈㅇ: *gasps* rUDE

sunflower guys i’m still here

(basically taehyung is the most precious, jeongguk is two hundred percent whipped, yoongi is the best brother, seokjin is the best hyung, jimin is the bestest best friend, namjoon is so done, and hoseok is the meme king) 

Empty Spaces (Don’t Talk About It) by officialmaknae  (TaeKook)

Jeongguk has the habit of reading too much into things, especially when it comes to Taehyung. He isn’t sure how it came to this - but he knows he’s in too deep.  (Rated: M)

Testament of Youth by sugamins  (VHope)

Brotherhood [bruhth -er-hoo d] Noun.01. The condition or quality of being a brother or brothers.

As time passes on things change, as is the cycle of life. With the tick of clock fingers and the gradual shift in seasons, nothing is truly set in stone.

But what of friendship?

How deep exactly can the bonds of friendship grow, and how strong? Seven boys that are now young men might have believed they had found the answer to these questions, but they will discover just how wrong they were. Nostalgia and wanderlust, the roads and the distant shore will call once more and they are powerless to resist.

Especially at the behest of a dear friend in need of his brothers.

“Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life.”Samuel Ullman (Rated: M)

Blood, sweat and memes by wanderlash (orphan_account)  (VHope)

minsugagenius: who has been listening to cypher on repeat for the past two hoursminsugagenius: it’s driving me insane_____________jeonnochu: rudeincludemeincypherpls: ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯_____________mochimin: i’m never texting you again

Swimming With The Stars (Until We Drown) by lethallergic  (VHope)

Hoseok is a daydreamer lost in his own world. Taehyung has teeth as sharp as knives, but home in his eyes.  (Rated: M)

Really, Baby (I Will Be Just Fine) by lethallergic  (VHope)

Hoseok is a lifeguard with a strict diet and workout regime.Taehyung works at Larkburger and eats like a slob.  (Rated: M)

Death Of Our Troubled Youth by lulublue1234  (JungHope)

Jungkook doesn’t want to be a plastic person anymore.Hoseok makes him feel real.

Or

Bad boy Hoseok gets a great amount of money to play the boyfriend of a rich kid who wants to show his parents he’s a rebel too (Rated: M)

On My Life (I Swear) by SevenSoulmates  (JungHope, very minor YoonMin)

Hoseok had no idea what he got himself into when he befriended a random stranger that day on the street. He hadn’t thought anything of it, even though it kind of was a bit of an unusal circumstance. Still, how was he to know that the boy was the President’s Son, the most hidden and protected person in all of the country? Not until the day he walks into his new job as a bodyguard and gets chained to the boy himself does he realize that things are about to get a little fucked up.

Lost and Found by xxdevilishxx  (JungHope)

Sometimes people fall in love after they get married (aka spending your life tied to a stranger is hard, but Jungkook and Hoseok decide to give it a try and stumble across love along the way)

Honey, You’re an Omega by Throne  (JinKook)

Statistics show that 1 in every 7 people will be an omega. (Rated: M)

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to be claimed and be claimed in return. by everydayemily  (JinKook)

There had been rumors going around for months now. At the time they were just whispers behind closed doors that no one believed would come true. Until they did. Wolf activist leaders had finally came through. Idols would no longer be forced to take suppressants, and most of all they would be able to participate in the Claim.

———————————————————————————————————OrIdols are no longer forced to take suppressants and can finally let their inner wolves out, (letting them have scents, heats, and the abilities to find their mates) (Rated: M)

Of One Sided Crushes by Bookworming  (JinKook)

Jeon Jungkook has three questions for the Gods of crushes and one-sided love.One, what are you supposed to do when your crush sees you like their younger brother?Two, what are you supposed to do when your crush who sees you like their brother kisses you?Three, what are you supposed to do when your crush who sees you like their brother is drunk when they kiss you?  (Rated: M)

Anon, I hope you like this list.  It is long ( and man does it have tons of TaeKook) but enjoy it OK.

[fictionerd]

Chapter One: Out of Time Entry #3

“Grief is a powerful Motivator” - Rose

---Last Seed, 18th, 4E 201--- Well, the petty larceny went off without a hitch. I figure this "Brand Shei" fellow will be out of a cell by tomorrow morning once bureaucracy grinds itself out. Of course maybe the legal system has become draconian while I slept.

Speaking of sleep. I'd best get used to sleeping in the afternoons. Limit the time I spend in the sun until I find a workaround for that particular weakness.

I know the way I'v e been writing about this makes me seem flippant about the situation. I'm really not. It's eating away at the back of my mind, what I did to Grelod. The way it felt was- I don't really want to talk about it. If it had been traumatic that would be one thing. The problem is that the experience really wasn't. I guess that's the point. Who'd want to continue to live as a vampire if feeding scarred them mentally and emotionally?

Anyway. To bed I suppose. T'is good for mine complexion. Wouldn't want to burn my lovely skin.

Nope. It didn't make me feel better.

>I find myself facing a dilemma. Brynjolf offered to let me join his "organization". I'm one-hundred percent certain he means the thieves guild.

My dilemma is this: Being what I am it'd be a good idea to learn Skyrim's underground. I hold no illusions that I'll be able to indefinitely lead an above-board life. There will likely be times and reasons I need to duck out fo sight.

On the other hand: Sleighting a ring from some one's strongbox into some one else's pocket almost as a prank is one thing. I'm actively considering becoming a thief. I don't have a moral problem with the idea per se, but I'm uncertain if that's a road I want to travel.

Are the risks worth it? I just don't know.

I suppose I'll put the decision on hold. I should probably head back toward Windhelm and let Aretino know Grelod is dead. I may not have intended to fulfill his contract, but since it's done he may as well know so he can return to his friends here.

---Last Seed, 19th, 4E 201--- I fed again. As I was heading out to collect a bounty I felt the hunger start to grow again. Not wanting to go back to the starved state I awoke in I took full advantage when I found the bandit leader asleep in Nilheim. I could have stopped short of killing him, but since I was there to take his head anyway I allowed myself to indulge once more.

I need to not make a habit of that if I can help it. At some point restraint is going to be necessary. I can hear my mother in my head now.

"People live so that they can indulge themselves. The trick is learning when and when not to let yourself go."

>I've sat staring at this page for five minutes. I just remembered a detail about my childhood. I remembered my mother even for a brief moment. I remembered her face.

[Tear stains can be seen on the page]

Are my memories returning as I feed? Or is something else causing them to return?

> I slept fairly peacefully after my last entry. I face another evening now. Night stretches out before me. I've been in Riften two or three days now and no one has come to drag me off to prison so I guess I'm good to go. I'll head up to Windhelm tonight to give my report to Aretino.

I could buy a horse, but I think I'll stick to carriages for the moment. It just feels better to have human company whenever I can.

>I sit now recording this in Candlehearth hall. I arrived in Windhelm after some winding road travel north. It didn't take long all things considered, and the carriage driver was good company. Aretino was beyond pleased that I'd completed his request. I actually sat and talked with the boy for a little bit afterward. He told me he wanted to be an assassin when he grew up so he could help all kinds of kids just like me.

I thought that was precious. I know that most people wouldn't feel that way, but to me that sentiment was cute. Cute and oddly nostalgic. Did I want to be an assassin when I was younger? I think I did. Really the muscle memory I possess for fighting and the spells I could remember when I woke up seem to support the idea.

I had to have trained with very specific instruction to learn how to sneak around with several pounds of steel strapped to my back in the form of a honkin greatsword. Maybe the answers I'm looking for about my past will lie with the Dark Brotherhood?

It was mention of them that drew me to Aretino in the first place. The thought has merit. Unfortunately I don't have the slightest clue how to go about finding the brotherhood so I'll just keep trudging for now.

Getting familiar with Skyrim's underground just got a lot more appealing though.

---Last Seed, 20th, 4E 201--- I did not expect to enter the Windhelm hall of the dead of my own free will. At least not anytime soon.

After my last entry I decided to have a walk around the city, take in the night air, that sort of thing. I happened to be walking through the graveyard when I come upon the site of a murder. The victim was Susanna the Wicked from Candlehearth. I remember her from the night I first woke up. She actually flirted with me a little bit. I recall thinking that was a tad strange. Not unwelcome just strange.

Now she's dead, and unlike me she's not getting back up again without some necromantic assistance. So I decided to investigate. Got permission from the Jarl's steward and everything. I'm officially investigating a murder. Isn't that ironic?

The lady in charge of the Hall of the Dead only noted that the wounds seemed to have been inflicted with embalming tools. Specifically ancient nordic ones. I'd say that safely rules out most of the city's populace as the culprit. Now to find out the scholarly and eccentric types and narrow it down to one from there. Unless we're dealing with a secret cabal of killers all united by their love of embalming implements.

Helgird, the lady in charge here, looked at me funny because I giggled as that last thought crossed my mind. I think I'm developing a morbid sense of humor. Best get back out into the cold and track down my next lead. Shouldn't be any trouble. I've become very good at following blood trails recently.

>Suspicious, old, locked mansion? I do believe we have found ourselves a killer's lair. Wonder what the going rate in town is? I might need one in the forseeable future after all.

>Bingo! A journal discussing the exquisite nature of Susanna's tendons? Amid rablings about sources for flesh, blood, and other such things? Looks like I'm definitely on the right track. Let's see what else I find.

>Now THIS is interesting. A strange amulet found among a pile of these "Beware the Butcher" papers. Seems the killer has been tearing these down. Bad idea if you ask me. They're sort of asking to be caught doing something like that. What's their excuse for it? I doubt it'd stand up to scrutiny.

>And that's a necromantic ritual sight hidden behind a false cupboard. Shit. What have I gotten into here?

>Spoke to the steward about the clues I found in the spooky old mansion. He referred me to a "Viola Giordano" for the Butcher pamphlets and "Calixto" for the amulet. Let's get cracking we have a murder to solve and the sun's coming up.

>Spoke to Giordano about the Butcher's journals. She suspects a fellow by the monicker "Wuunferth the Unliving". If you ask me that's a bit too on-the-nose.

>All roads lead to Wuunferth it seems. According to Callixto the amulet is "The Wheelstone". It's a piece belonging to the court wizard of Windhelm. That'd be our boy the Unliving. I don't like Calixto though. He offered to buy the amulet off me. Ceremonial or not that doesn't seem like a good idea. Especially if the piece is as well-known as his attitude seemed to imply.

I could go to the steward with all this, but I believe I'll talk to Wuunferth directly. If he IS the killer and tries to make a move I'm confident five feet of steel will be enough to dissuade him. Especially at close quarters.

>The Necromancer's Amulet, eh? I think I'm going to go sell this to Calixto after all. Unless I miss my guess it'll be back in my hands again by midnight.

Needless to say my encounter with Wuunferth went well. He's an agreeable old chap in his own way. If he turns out to have set me up it's going to be a real let-down. I don't think he is though. Call it instinct. He has the air of a predator, or at the very least a formiddable presence. He doesn't strike me as a giggling maniac mumbling about flesh magic and killing young girls for spare parts.

>He wasn't home. Too bad. Well I guess I'll have a meal (a normal one) at Candlehearth and sleep the day away. Tonight I catch me a killer.

>And so Calixto, the Butcher, is laid low. I suppose any future reader of this journal will wonder how it is I knew Calixto was my man. Well it's quite simple, really. The idiot was displaying a set of the embalming tools he used to dismember the young women he killed right in plain sight in his little museum.

If Helgird had been the culprit she wouldn't have clued me in about the tools. If Wuunferth had been the killer why would he set me loose to patrol the city rather than quietly be rid of me while we were alone in his study?

All that being said I still wasn't absolutely certain. So I did patrol the city and spotted Calixto in the market as he drew steel to kill someone. I cast a Fury spell on him drawing his attention away long enough for his intended victim and a newly-arrived guard to fall on him. I may have also helped a bit. Now he lies dead in the snow and I feel satisfied with my work here.

Checked his little museum over after he died. Found his last journal. Seems he was trying to resurrect his sister. That's a motivation I can understand. I don't agree with it. Especially since he was building her a patchwork body of about ten or so people, but I get it. Grief is a powerful motivator. Let's hope it doesn't sink its claws into me.

[theartofbeinganerd]

fitzsimmons + jealousy

Here’s day five of my week-long blog anniversary celebration! The prompt was left pretty open to interpretation, so since I’ve only been able to think about current canon, I set it after all of the Framework nonsense. Thank you for the prompt anon, and I hope this is close to what you were looking for!

Set post Season 4 (with some spoilers for 4x21), and inwhich Fitzsimmons still can’t communicate to save their lives, but they’re willingto learn how to. 

-

Jemma Simmons had never considered herself a jealous person.In fact, she’d always been comfortable and sure of who she was and what shehad, so there’d never even been room for jealousy in her life. But, as she’dbegun to learn over the past couple of years, when it came to the most preciousthing her life, all limits or reasoning seemed to all-but disappear.

And this was especially obvious as Jemma peered through thewindow into the newly repaired lab, watching as Fitz chatted with Dr. EliseEvans, shoulders shaking as they shared a joke and a private smile.

She actually really likedthe specially-trained psychologist Coulson had brought in after the Frameworkto help those with two lives living inside of their heads (and those who hadbeen horrified witnesses to it all), thought she was kind and insightful and afantastic listener. But, the problem was, she was also beautiful, with biggreen eyes and flowing auburn hair and also in possession of an apparent likingfor Jemma’s boyfriend.

Jemma’s hands tightened their grip around her half-empty cupof tea as she stewed over how unprofessionalthis all was, though the sickening twist of her stomach and the bitter taste ofanger on her tongue told her that her reaction actually had very little to dowith professionalism.

In the lab, Fitz had put down one of the damaged ICERs he’dbeen working on (at first, he’d all-but refused to touch any of his projects,too afraid of creating something else terrible like the Framework, like AIDA, but Dr. Evans had worked with andgotten him to start small and take baby steps – and god, how could Jemma dislike the woman that was helping Fitz somuch?). Now, instead, he was facing Dr. Evans, his full focus on theirconversation, and all she could hear were alarm bells ringing in her headbecause they were too close.

Now, there wasn’t a single part of Jemma that ever thoughtFitz would cheat on her – he just wasn’t that kind of person, and she wasconfident that he would never hurt her in that way. But there was a part of her, a tiny littleinsecurity that had been born inside of her when a Fitz that wasn’t truly Fitzhad said those truly awful words toher, had told her they meant nothing to each other and that the woman he lovedwasn’t her.

She still remembered with absolute clarity witnessing theconversation Fitz had with AIDA after their escape from the Framework,remembered hearing him confess to having only room for one person in his heartand that person was her, but thoughthey’d begun to work through his fears of being unworthy and mend theirrelationship, he’d still never said those words to her. It left that insecurity open and vulnerable to grow freely asshe watched the closeness between Fitz and another woman, a woman he actuallyseemed able to open up to and behonest with, unlike her.

And perhaps that was what had the sickening jealousybubbling up in the pit of her stomach the most – why couldn’t he speak to her like that? Why did he continue tohide from her, to shy away from sharing his thoughts and feelings with her? Didhe believe they weren’t safe with her? Could he give her his heart, but nottrust her with his most intimate thoughts?

“Glare any harder and you’ll burn them to a crisp.”

Startled at the sudden voice, Jemma whirled around, nearlyspilling her tea in her haste. She found Daisy eyeing her in both amusement anddisbelief. “Oh. Hello Daisy, how are you?”

Daisy chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest and leaninga shoulder against the wall beside Jemma. “Give it up, Simmons, I know exactlywhat you were doing. Even though, for the record, I think it’s completely unnecessary.”

Jemma scoffed, throwing another quick glance into the lab,where Fitz and Elise were now sitting on the edge of his desk, side-by-side andpractically shoulder-to-shoulder. “Oh? You think so? You have eyes, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do, and they’ve seen the most epic, unbelievabledisplay of true love unfold over the past four years. And I can sure as helltell you that she wasn’t involved.”She thumbed toward Dr. Evans, who had a hand resting on Fitz’s shoulder. “What’sgot you so worked up about this anyway? Like, how do you know that she isn’tjust giving him extra therapy? Because he sure as hell needs it.”

“Daisy.” Jemmashook her head, smiling humorlessly. “Come on.You’re seeing the same thing as I am, and you’ve likely seen them spendingalmost every day for the past couple of weeks together. In fact, I’ve barely seen him, and you must knowthat isn’t the greatest of signs.”

Daisy didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, well, what does Fitzhave to say about it?”

“Oh, quite a bit, actually. She’s all he ever seems to talkabout these days. ‘Elise said this’,or ‘Elise and I did that’, or ‘Elise is so much more understanding thatyou Jemma’.”

“Okay, I’m not sure anyonewould believe he’s ever actually said that last one.”

“Well, he might as well have.” Jemma sighed, tearing hergaze away from the sight in the lab to smile sadly at Daisy. “I like to believethat Fitz and I are stronger, better together than we are apart, but…what if heno longer does? He’s been through so much, and…and maybe I’m not what he needsanymore.”

“Oh come on.”Daisy leveled an incredulous look at her. “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. I’ve seen how Fitz looks at you, okay? For years. And all I’ve ever seen is his unquestionable love for you.There are zero doubts in my mind that Fitz is one hundred percent devoted toyou. Some flirty little redhead with a psychology degree isn’t going to changethat, Jemma.”

“Well, alright, perhaps not, but –”

“No buts,” Daisy interrupted, shaking her head. “If you guyswould just talk to each other, you’drealize how ridiculous you’re being right now.”

Jemma wasn’t sure she believed that, not with the doubtsswimming around in her head and the unfamiliar and sour taste of jealousy atthe back of her throat. “It’s not that easy, Daisy,” she admitted softly.

“Yeah, it is,” Daisy disagreed.

-

“She’ll barely look at me half the time,” Fitz confessed,releasing a sigh and blinking back tears as he fiddled absently with the brokenICER in his hands. “I’m afraid… I mean, I thought we’d worked through all ofthe stuff that happened in the Framework, that she didn’t hold anything I didin there against me, even though she should–”

“Hey,” Elise cut in quickly, “no. What have we talked about?”

Fitz made a face, scowling down at his hands, but after amoment he dutifully answered, “None of the choices I made in there wereactually mine, I wasn’t in controland therefore can’t be held accountable.”

“Exactly,” she praised, reaching out to give his forearm abrief squeeze. “Fitz, I can’t tell you what Jemma’s thinking, but…you know, you’dbe able to solve a lot more of these problems if you actually talked to her.” She nudged him playfullyin the ribs with her elbow. “She isyour girlfriend, not to mention your best friend, after all.”

“I know,” Fitzsighed, setting down the ICER and turning so that he could perch on the edge ofhis desk, shoulders sagging in defeat. “It’s just never been our…strong suit, Iguess. It was always so effortless when science was all we ever had to worryabout, because we were always just on the same page. It’s like…I could trusther to know what I was thinking, sometimes even before I thought it myself. Butwith emotions and all that other important stuff? S’like we’re speaking twodifferent languages.”

“So, what, you just never discussed emotions with her?” sheasked disbelievingly.

“No.” He crossedhis arms over his chest, making a face. “I mean, we were actually always reallyopen with what was bothering us and I know how to read her emotions better thananything, and she can always tell when I’m about to break down, but…but it wasnever about us, about our friendshipor the way we felt about each other.” He smiled humorlessly as he remarked, “Probablywhy it took me so damn long to figure out I was bloody well in love with her,actually. I just…never really gave much thought to how I felt about Jemma. Shewas my best friend, and I just always expected her to be in my life and neveraccepted an alternative to that.”

Elise perched on the desk beside him, smiling gently. “Andit was only once you were forced to that you realized what you felt was actuallylove?” When Fitz nodded sadly, she reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Fitz,why don’t you just tell her all ofthis? You were able to talk about it easily enough with me.”

Fitz rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling, sighing soheavily that his shoulders rose and fell with it. “Yeah, well, ‘cause you’renot Jemma. When I’m speaking with her, especially now, especially after what’shappened, I’m always afraid that whatever comes out of my mouth next mightfinally be the thing that pushes her away, the thing that finally has hercoming to her senses and heading for the hills.”

Elise laughed warmly, giving his shoulder a supportivesqueeze. “Oh Fitz, it’s my job to observe and understand human behavior, and letme tell you, even if I hadn’t had sessions with Jemma, I’d know she was completelyin love with you. I doubt anything you say could ever get her to stop lovingyou, because it’s just not that simple.”

Looking hopeful for the first time in awhile, Fitz loweredhis eyes to meet her gaze with a cautious smile. “You really think so?”

“I do,” Elise answered gently, “but I think you still needto hear it from her.”

-

That night, Jemma waited up for him in their bunk, sittingon the end of their bed and trying to convince herself that she wasn’t about tolose the person she loved more than anything else in the world. But, she remindedherself, she would also give up her world forhim, however that looked – even if it meant letting him go to be happierelsewhere.

When he finally entered the bunk and Jemma glanced up at thesound of the door opening, she could see his obvious surprise that she wasstill up. Then, the surprise turned to relief (and nervousness?) as he closedthe door behind him. “Hey, good, you’re still awake. I…um…I wanted to talk.”

Jemma felt a wave of nausea rush through her, and shewondered wildly if he’d come to tell her that he’d fallen out of love with her.Would she ever be able to stomach seeing him with someone else? Would she everbe able to rid herself of the aching, burning jealousy inside of her every time she laid eyes on them together,knowing that she wasn’t enough for him?

“I did too, actually,” she admitted, taking a deep breath asher hands wrung together in her lap. He opened his mouth to speak, but thesudden thought occurred to her that she wasn’t sure she’d even be able to hearhim say the words, so she hurried to get them out first to try and save herselfat least some heartache. “Fitz, I know,okay? And we can’t keep going on like this, because it’s turning me intosomeone I’m not. I’m tired of feeling like this, it’s making me sick.”

Fitz sucked in a shaky breath, nodding slowly, though hisrapid blinks told her that there were tears building in his eyes. “Uh…okay,yeah…what…um, what do you think we should do about it, then?”

The words brought her back to a time when their future hadbeen laid out before them, a beautiful unanswered question that she’d so lookedforward to answering. She never could’ve imagined it’d go this horribly, not in a million years (though a part of her couldn’thelp but remember what she’d beenputting him through at the time, and perhaps this was her payback for hurtinghim in such a way). “Isn’t it obvious? Fitz, we can’t keep this charade up ifone of us isn’t happy.”

He swallowed visibly, closing his eyes tightly and inhalingsharply. His curled his hands into trembling fists as he nodded rapidly. Jemmafelt a lick of confusion at his extreme reaction, but before she could questionhim about it, he asked a bit desperately, “I just…I need to know what…what didI do? So I don’t spend the rest of my life torturing myself over every littlemistake I’ve made, what was it that finally did me in?”

Jemma frowned deeply. Was he pretending he didn’t know whatshe was talking about, or…? “Fitz…I’m talking about you and…and Dr. Evans.”

At first, there was no visible reaction to the words. But,then his eyes popped open and he stared at her in bewilderment. “Me and Elise? What does she have to do withthis? Is it because I talk to her about us? Because…I mean, she’s my friend anda psychologist so…so I thought that was okay, but…”

She stared blankly at him a moment, then asked plainly, “Fitz,aren’t you in love with her?”

“What?” Jemma wasn’tsure she’d ever seen Fitz more caught off-guard than he was in that moment. “Inlove with…Elise? Are you… Wait, is that why you’ve been so upset with melately? Because you thought…”

“You’re telling me you aren’t?”Jemma wasn’t sure what to feel, equally confused and hopeful and scared.

“Of course not!How could you even…?”

Jemma threw her hands up as she cried, “I don’t know! I just always saw you together,smiling and laughing, and you opened up to her and spent so much time with herand…”

“You were jealous,”Fitz breathed, his eyes wide as it finally occurred to him. When Jemma made aface and shrugged, he let out a quiet chuckle. “It’s…I mean, I never want tomake you feel badly, about anything,and I’m so sorry that I have, but…” A disbelieving smile tugged at his lips. “Ijust can’t believe Jemma Simmons was jealousof some girl being friends with me.”

Jemma groaned, burying her face in her hands. “You’re notmaking me feel better, Fitz,” she told him pointedly, the words slightlymuffled.

“Sorry, sorry. I just don’t understand how you could think…”Then, he trailed off, releasing a heavy sigh and planting his hands on hiswaist. “Or maybe I do. I guess I haven’t done the best I could to remind youhow much you mean to me and that you’re…you’re the only person that could evermake me happy, y’know? I just…I couldn’t even begin to imagine loving anyonebut you. You’re…you’re everything I need, everything I don’t deserve, and just…everything. There’s no one for me butyou. Never has been.” He went quiet for a moment, then asked softly, “How couldyou doubt that? Have I not shown you how much you mean to me?”

“You have,” Jemmaassured him quickly, lifting her head from her hands and standing to approach him,“Oh Fitz, of course you have. I don’t know what’s come over me recently but… Isuppose I’m just so terrified of losing you. I never would have imagined itcould ever be to another woman before, but…”

“None of that was real,” Fitz reminded her firmly, a truththat had been drilled into each and every one of those who had been heldhostage in the Framework. “None of what I felt for her was real. What I feelfor you, however, is the most realthing in my life. When I have nothing else, I have that.” Removing his handsfrom his hips, he grasped hers and laced their fingers together. “Jemma, tellme what I need to do to convince you that you’re all I’ll ever want.”

“You already have,” she admitted, smiling a bitembarrassedly as she squeezed his fingers between hers. “I overreacted, I can seethat quite clearly now. But, it doesbring up something important; we needto be able to talk to each other, Fitz. Misunderstandings like this can beavoided completely if we just allowed ourselves to be more open with eachother.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. I’m…I’m working on it, okay?” Fitz’slips quirked up in a little smile. “I think we both are. And in the spirit ofthat, let me be open and tell you that you, Jemma Simmons, are the only womanin any universe, in any reality, that I will ever chose to be with, chose togive my heart to. S’been yours for over a decade, anyway.”

Jemma bit her bottom lip, but it did little to hold back theblindingly bright grin that appeared on her face. Using her grip on his hands,she tugged him closer until she could press her lips to his. “Good,” shemurmured, “because I hate feelingjealous.”

“I dunno, green did look pretty good on you,” he couldn’thelp but tease. When Jemma leaned back to allow him to see her narrowed eyes,Fitz was quick to go on, “Right, never mind. Forget I said anything and let’sjust go back to the kissing.”

And because she loved him dearly and was so utterly relievedto find that all of this had just been a silly overreaction, Jemma let it slideand pulled him back in with a warm smile.

Oh, she truly had been kidding herself, thinking she couldgive this wonderful man up, hadn’t she? Well, lucky for her, he was exactlywhere he wanted to be, where he’d alwayswant to be.

[bigskydreaming]

I want it on record that this is all @quicklikelight‘s fault, because she said wing fic and then she said Scydia and then my brain did a thing.

Scott McCall didn’t show up to class on Tuesday.

Normally, this was not something that would be on Lydia’s radar. Normally, Scott McCall was not something that would be on Lydia’s radar. But AP Bio was one of the only two classes Lydia allowed on her schedule that possessed at least the potential to challenge her. Nobody else whose opinion she cared about was in it, and neither were any of them in the pass/fail History of American Literature elective she’d selected to be her alibi in case any of them ever asked what class it was she had that period. (They never did).

Ergo, when forced to partner up with a classmate for an assignment worth half of one of the only grades she actually cared about - despite her best articulated arguments - she’d done her research before selecting Scott McCall to be hers. Perfect attendance, rarely volunteering answers but always having them once actually called upon, no extracurriculars or social life whatsoever as far as she could tell. In summation, reliable and unlikely to stand in the way of her ending the class with that A she damn well better end this class with. The perfect patsy.

Partner. She meant partner.

Point is, when one Scott McCall both failed to be reliable and stood in the way of that A by failing to show up to class two days in a row, Lydia figured she deserved an explanation for that. Some might call that entitled. She called it - fine, it was entitled. Sue her. Her dad had good lawyers.

And so here she stood in a part of town she hadn’t really ever registered existed other than in a vague, abstract sort of way, standing on the porch of the McCalls’ house. It was small, picturesque and possessed of a quality she didn’t know how to describe with any word other than ‘cozy.’ She had no idea what to do with that, so she got back on task and knocked, sharp and brisk enough to bruise her knuckles on the wood paneling. She could hear the echoes resonate through the house on the other side of the door. She heard nothing else. She knocked again.

When she tried the doorknob after further knocking produced similarly ineffective results, it was simple frustration, really. It wasn’t like she expected the door to be unlocked. Who leaves their front doors unlocked?

Apparently the McCalls, however, because a simple twist of her wrist was all that stood between her and access to their home. Maybe they were the kind of people who counted on basic human decency to keep uninvited strangers on the other side of that door? Hmm. Can’t relate. Food for thought though.

Lydia ventured down the darkened hallway towards the stairs cautiously, because there was always the other possibility she’d accidentally stumbled onto a crime scene. One could never be sure. And when she made her way up the staircase, it was less about being entitled and intrusive and more about following the trail of photographs chronicling the evolution of Scott McCall from chubby-faced baby to gangly adolescent. It was slightly adorable. Don’t quote her on that though, she’d sue. Her dad had good lawyers.

And when she saw the door to the bedroom at the end of the upstairs hall ajar with light from a lamp spilling out into the gloom, then of course she had to check to make sure everything was alright, because why would somebody be at home and yet not answer the door if everything was alright? It was just basic mathematics at that point.

Whatever Lydia Martin expected to find when she pushed open that door, however, it was definitely not Scott standing shirtless in front of a mirror, with large, brown, gray and tan wings sprouting proudly from his back while he awkwardly tried to trap them against his sides with an ACE bandage. Feathers littered the floor; evidence this had probably been going on for quite some time.

In retrospect, that was the moment where Lydia Martin’s life got weird.

Look, she wasn’t just some small town girl who thought the world began and ended at the state line. She’d been to Paris. She’d mastered archaic Latin because she was bored. She actually understood Euclidean geometry and she was well aware that the world was bigger and stranger than anyone could possibly imagine.

All of that did nothing to prepare her for the sight of a classmate with actual wings, actual functional wings, if the haphazard flapping of the twin appendages were suggestive of anything.

So having absolutely no prior experience, knowledge or frame of reference to fall back on in the face of something THIS bizarre and inexplicable, Lydia did what she did best. She compartmentalized.

First off, they were massive. The tailfeathers drooped down to the carpet and they peaked a good foot and a half over his head, she put him at about five foot ten, maybe five foot eleven, did some quick calculations of the height by the approximate breadth of the wing folded tight against his body…Lydia whistled softly. They were looking at a fifteen foot wingspan, easy.

Lydia also whistled out loud, she realized belatedly. Mostly as a result of Scott whirling around with a startled gasp, hands scrambling to hide both wings behind his body, tucked behind him like a shield. Totally futile, of course. But precious. Definitely precious.

“Jesus,” Scott yelped. “Don’t you knock?”

“I did knock. Twice,” Lydia said, still tracking the curve of his wings with her gaze, comparing and contrasting the shape and hue of the feathers with a lifetime’s worth of nature documentaries. At a glance, she wanted to guess they most resembled the wings and feathering of bubo virginianus, aka the great horned owl. Not a species native to this part of California, but then again, teenage boys with wings weren’t exactly native to any part of California so she might just be parsing semantics at this point. “I think you were…preoccupied.”

That put Scott back on the defensive, even though it hadn’t been her intent. He shifted his weight from foot to foot awkwardly. Arched his back as though to try and shove the tips of his wings lower and more out of sight, but really all it did was make his nicely toned chest jut out more. Not that she was opposed to that angle either.

“It’s not what you think,” he tried.

“I think you have wings, Scott.”

“Okay, so, I can explain.”

Lydia tilted her head. “Can you? Really?”

Scott deflated. “Well. No. Kinda? I don’t know. Look, not that I’m complaining, but why aren’t you fleeing in terror right now?”

She shrugged. “You have fluffy brown wings, McCall, not fangs and claws and smoke coming out of your nostrils. Should I be fleeing in terror?”

“No, of course not, its just…I don’t know. Look, its not like I have an instruction manual here. You’re the first person to even see them.”

“I’m honored.” Weird thing is, she actually was. Okay, let’s be real, the weird thing was still the classmate with giant wings sticking out of his back, but relatively speaking. “So not to be crass or anything, but elephant in the room. How is it you have wings, exactly?”

Scott cocked his own head, a surprisingly bird like motion given the appendages framing it, and he shot her an odd look. As though he had any right to be the one acting like there was something strange about this Twilight Zone scene she’d found herself in. “How, huh? Kinda figured your first question would be why do I have wings.”

“Why implies there’s a reason or purpose for your having wings, which is an assumption with no practical basis. How implies simply that there was some mechanism or event by which you developed wings, which is a certainty given that I am one hundred percent confident you didn’t have those last week. Hence, how takes precedence.”

He continued to scrutinize her, and she resisted the urge to fidget, because fuck that, ladies don’t fidget, they make boys fidget. It wasn’t like Lydia was unused to the sensation of all eyes and attention in the room being focused on her after all, but there was a weight to this inspection that was not exactly uncomfortable, but wholly unfamiliar.

“You know, you’re not at all what most people expect.”

“Neither are you, McCall,” she said dryly. “Yes, I have a brain, you have a wingspan, shocking revelations all around. Back to my question please.”

He sighed and flopped onto the edge of his bed. She took it as an invitation to sit next to him. She had a suspicion they were going to be there awhile. Plus it increased her chances of accidentally brushing up against those wings and getting a sense of their relative softness. Purely for the purpose of adding to her mental notes, of course. Look, it was literally for Science.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Scott tried at last. She gave no ground.

“Five minutes ago I wouldn’t have believed what my eyes are telling me. Yet here we are. I’m a believer. You were saying?”

“It’s kind of a long story. A weird story,” he said, trying again. Lydia progressed to full-fledged eye rolling. God, it was like pulling teeth with this one.

“Let’s start with the Cliff Notes version. Once upon a time there was a boy with no wings. Then he had wings. How?”

“I was bit by a werewolf, okay?!”

Lydia blinked. Okay, point to him for that one. Her snark subsided ever so slightly.

“Okay. So. Werewolves are a thing, apparently. How does that equal you having wings instead of claws and an insatiable hunger for human flesh?”

Scott shrugged and scratched his head, a fresh downfall of feathers cascading to the floor following his motions. “I’m not sure I get it entirely myself, but according to this guy, Derek - he’s a werewolf, but not the one that bit me - so like, there’s some old werewolf proverb or whatever about how the shape you take reflects the person you are? I dunno. But apparently, turns out, I am not a wolf.”

He turned pensive. “I’m still not sure if I’m offended by that or not. Derek seemed to think that’s a bad thing, but he’s kind of a dick. So. Yeah.”

“Huh,” Lydia said as she digested this. “So rather than lycanthropy being a contagion that replicates exactly in each new host, its more like the bite of a shapeshifter is simply a catalyst for transformative magic the new host’s spirit provides the blueprint to follow. Fascinating.”

She refocused on Scott in time to catch him staring at her. “What?”

“You got all that from what I just said?”

She blushed before she had a chance to body check her basic physiological response to flattering male attention and since when was Scott McCall flattering male attention. Eww. Weird. Focus, Lydia.

“What, like its hard?” She joked, falling back on Legally Blonde quotes as her eyes drifted back down to his still bare chest and she remembered oh no, he’s hot.

“No,” Scott said, corners of his mouth twitching. “Just that I knew there was more to you than met the eye, but from what I picked up while working on our AP Bio project, I figured it was all science oriented. But you’re really running with this whole ‘magic is real’ thing, huh? I mean, it took me a second and I’m the one with the freaking wings.”

“Magic is just science we can’t understand yet,” Lydia shrugged, averting her eyes to the floor. She resisted the urge to twirl a lock of her hair. She. Would. Not. Fidget. Dammit.

“You read Asimov?”

“Who doesn’t read Asimov?”

“Touche,” Scott laughed. He ducked his own head. “Umm. Okay. Maybe it’d be more productive if we both just agreed to stop assuming things about each other?”

She studied him. “I can work with that.”

“Cool.” He grinned and held out his hand. “So hey, I’m Scott McCall, and I’m part bird, apparently.”

She smiled and took his hand. “I’m Lydia Martin. I like birds.”

“While we’re at it, any chance I can get you to stop eyeing me like I’m the blue ribbon at next year’s science fair? I mean, I totally get it, its just…yeah.”

Ooops. Busted. Lydia recovered with a casual hair toss. “Well, you’re just going to have to prioritize there. I can look at you like a marvel of the modern scientific world, or like a shirtless teenage boy who makes for great eye candy. Dealer’s choice.”

Scott blushed again. Point to her. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

She shrugged. “Me having a boyfriend doesn’t negate you having nice pecs. Kudos on those by the way. You should consider wearing tighter shirts.”

That was the wrong thing to say, apparently, and the playful climate they’d cultivated evaporated.

“I can’t even get a jersey on with these things, let alone anything tight,” Scott said, turning pensive again. “My mom thinks I’m just sick and holed up in my room but that’s not gonna work for much longer and if I don’t figure out something soon, I really am going to be next year’s science fair exhibit.”

“So there’s no way to get rid of them? They’re just part of being a…were…owl?”

They were definitely going to need to come up with some more expansive terminology, just for the record. Lydia Martin flat out refused to make it a habit of regularly saying things like wereowl with a straight face.

“I don’t think they are, but I honestly have no idea. I don’t think Derek even knows, like…he tracked me down after I was bitten and the fact that I’d already healed proved I was a shapeshifter, but then when he tried to teach me how to shift, like…this happened instead? And he pretty much lost interest then because apparently a werebird or whatever the fuck I am doesn’t help with whatever it is he wanted me for,” Scott said. With no small trace of bitterness.

“But he shifted into a werewolf form, right? And then changed back?”

“Yeah. So I mean I figure its gotta be possible for me to change back too, I just…don’t know how. Nothing I’ve tried has worked.”

“Well, that gives us our basic parameters to start with,” Lydia said briskly, standing and stalking over to his computer. “Clearly, we have two immediately available courses of action. Figuring out how to shift you back, knowing that it is theoretically possible, or else figuring out how to disguise your wings until we figure that out, acknowledging that it might take longer than we’d like to figure out the proper mechanism. Which direction should we tackle?”

“Umm. We?”

“Yes, Scott, we. How did you think this conversation was going to end? A fist bump and me leaving with a ‘cool story, I gotta get to the mall, see you in class if the government doesn’t cart you off to some black ops lab first?’”

“Have you ever given someone a fist bump in your life?”

“Not the point, Scott, I was deliberately emphasizing the ridiculous. Focus.”

He hesitated, standing, but still clearly uncomfortable and undecided. His shoulders slouched, his wings drooped…he definitely should never play poker while shifted, she noted absently. Those things were absolutely a tell. Who knew human-proportioned wings could be so expressive?

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, because I’m really grateful that you didn’t go fleeing in terror the second you saw me like this, but…why are you trying to help me? I mean, I’m trying not to assume the worst here or anything, but its not like we’re friends, and I have a lot to lose here, so how do I know you’re not just interested in writing a paper about me or turning me over to some science lab for a cash reward and a byline?”

“I have money, Scott, I don’t need more,” Lydia answered abrasively, not knowing how to address his perfectly valid concerns any more delicately than that. For all her varied skills, handling with care was not something ever likely to appear on her resume. So she fell back on playing to her strengths. When in doubt, steamroll them. “And as for the rest, you’re right, I absolutely could turn you over to the science community and solidify my place in history for all time. Fortunately for you, not all of us are attracted to science for altruistic purposes and because we want to spread and share knowledge and information with all for the betterment of mankind. Some of us are just smug bitches who like knowing we know more than anyone else, and knowing I’m the only one who knows all this right here? That’s my catnip.”

“Now sit,” Lydia patted the edge of the bed closest to his desk, having already claimed his chair for herself. “I’m thinking our initial approach should be delving into psychosomatism and the effects of the id and the superego on our physiologies. Obviously there’s a mental trigger involved in the shift from human form to your altered state, and such triggers frequently involve psychological factors like confidence and self-esteem, both of which, no offense, I don’t suspect your cup overfloweth with, so it seems worth a try.”

Scott shook his head and resumed his seat on the bed, albeit closer to the desk. A bemused smile played across his lips. “You’re kind of a force of nature, you know that? Hurricane Lydia.”

“Mmm,” Lydia said absently. She booted up his browser, gratified that his search bar didn’t autofill with various porn site selections. What a treasure. “I prefer to be classified as a tropical storm. It leaves me the option of upgrading to a full scale natural disaster when appropriately pissed.”

“Noted.”

“I always knew you were a smart boy, McCall.”

“No you didn’t,” he scoffed, though he seemed more amused than offended. Curious. “You didn’t even know my name two weeks ago.”

“An oversight on my part. Don’t worry. I learn from my mistakes,” Lydia assured him. They exchanged sidelong classes, complete with smiles. Something shivered along her spine. In retrospect, the wings were the moment Lydia Martin’s life got interesting. This right here? This was the moment Lydia Martin’s life got very, very complicated. That awareness would come later though. For the time being, she simply turned back to his computer, fingers poised above the keyboard, ready to begin the search of a lifetime. “Now in the immortal words of every teenage boy in the history of modern English: Let’s do this already.”