#but I have not spent the last year watch several hours worth of topics just to find out new topics

[ctommyisnt]

Because I am the biggest fan of iceberg videos and want to spread the joy, here is how you do iceberg videos and have fun with it

1) you watch them and have a BLAST. Wendigoon has the best iceberg videos because he ACTUALLY explains everything. He has made ten hour videos before and I go insane over every second of it. I also like dantavius icebergs but he’s super crude and his primary audience is middle aged guys so keep that in mind.

2) keep your phone or a notebook handy. I usually do housework while watching his videos so I have a notebook for this reason within easy reach.

3) anything that sounds super interesting that you want to watch more of, write it down. I also write down the video time stamp and a small summary but you only need the gist of it.

4) once your done, go into YouTube and search up whatever is on your list. A lot of the time (because YouTubers watch other YouTubers to research it’s a fun little web) there are videos ON the topic and now you have unlimited video essays to watch

5) if there are no videos you can do your own research! I put together a little doc and write down cool facts and articles and whatnot to see if I can put together my own timeline of events.

6) optional: Make your own video essay!! These videos are a fantastic way to find fun and new topics. Most of these icebergs are made by guys who are SUPER interested in a very specific topic and submit them to icebergs YouTubers or on Reddit to spread the joy of sharing.

7) optional part TWO! Make your own iceberg!! It’s pretty difficult but if you have a specific niche or even a generalized interest you can make your own! Dig through your brain to try and find the most random facts you can remember about your interest and throw it in the list. I don’t do this a lot because I struggle with memory but I have some friends that do. Have fun!!

Iceberg videos are about spreading fun facts to people who probably didn’t know about it!! How else would you find out that there are people who believe that history, after the death of Christ, is largely fabricated due to a past emporer and pope that made up history (614-911AD) to make themselves look good. It’s called phantom time you should look it up. You should also watch the nine hour conspiracy theory iceberg explained video wendigoon made because it’s one of my favorites ever

Anyways happy video watching have a fantastic day and I hope I can interest some of you in one of my favorite genre of videos ever

wish i could filter every video on youtube with the word iceberg in the title

[twilight-resonance]

Seeds of Spring

Got some time tonight, and I figured it would be worth doing some writing. Not for anything particular, mind you - just for its own sake.

I've been doing better. The promises of the last post - and that final piece of myself pulled back into place, and that haunt solved - have continued to yield dividends. For the first time in almost ten years, I can write again - and have, just for fun and just for kicks. As planning and projects go, I feel stronger; I've been catching up on things and working on bigger projects than I have in a long time. Tonight, even, I finished writing up profiles of all the known regions in the game world - something that would have been largely unthinkable the last near-decade. It feels marvelous. It's nice to feel like myself again, at least in this way (but with it, many others, too).

But nevertheless, that's not what I'm here to write about. Not that I'm here to write about anything in particular, mind you - I'm just here to write whatever comes to mind. For instance: we're going camping over the next few days. Out in the woods, of course, several hours away; and it'll likely be very rainy, and I'm hoping our tent doesn't soak through like it did last time we did rainy camping; but camping at all, which I've been sorely missing. I had the week off and Hearthsnail was able to take a few days off; and we're going to meet my uncle up there too, and that'll be nice. Frankly, even if it ends in a huge wet mess, I'll just be happy to have gone and tried it. I feel like I haven't had enough of those experiences in my life for a long while - Hearthsnail is generally very risk-averse, and it means we don't try things as often as I'm generally motivated to. But even bad camping trips make for good stories and lessons learned and wellsprings of inspiration, and by the gods, I need more of that in my life.

So that's where we're at with that. Figure we'll do the meal prep and packing tomorrow. It should be nice, one way or another.

As for other things... I've been enjoying the rain, as I often do. We had a power outage from the last storm a couple weeks ago - that was nice. I honestly enjoy the sort of quieter, slower pace of the day that comes with a power outage. We spent some time playing board games, and reading, and spending time together in ways that tend not to happen when there are computers around to be distracting; and we rediscovered candles on rainy days, and burned through 'em all (we only had a few left) and ought to get more. The downsides are of course (1) cooking and hot meals, and (2) worry about a fridgefull of food spoiling, but we ended up doing takeout for a few meals and the fridge appeared to come out of things mostly fine. So, all in all, not bad.

Winding myself down before bed right now. Listening to and half-watching more massage videos, as I've been wont to do recently... On the one hand it's vaguely embarrassing, and on the other don't knock it if it works. They consistently calm me down and make me sleepy, which is a godsend with my brain working as-normal again (which is to say, in overdrive, permanently) (did I tell you the part where I originally went to therapy for sleep problems? because I couldn't turn my brain off enough to go to sleep?). It's also done a lot to help with nervous system regulation during the day, which is nice in and of itself.

Aie aie aie. Thoughts on that for another time. Mostly about a friend, and all the complexities therein and in between. Nonetheless, there are thoughts.

Hmm. What else to write about? I suppose it doesn't matter - I ought to be going to bed soon anyway. Slept like absolute crap last night, hoping I don't do so again. I ought to pick some individual topics to write about soon - for the practice, if nothing else.

[meimae]

Language Learning Through Immersion: One Year Japanese Update

11/03/2021

I did it, you guys! I’ve successfully reached my very first year of Japanese language immersion! I honestly thought that I would have given up by now, but this really has been a fun and ultimately rewarding endeavor.

Studying the language has been at the back of my mind for years since elementary school, I just never really knew how to go about it before, and I always thought that I could learn it in a classroom setting someday. That someday for me was in two elective courses in university, and while those were fun as well, it did not give me the same gains that I have achieved in this past year.

It’s probably easier to quantify learning a language in a classroom setting, especially when going through a program to earn a language degree. Learning through immersion, however, I had to really consider what my goals should be on my own. Eventually, I stumbled upon an article saying that for an English speaker, Japanese was exceptionally difficult to learn and that at least 2,200 hours must be spent with the language to reach a certain level of proficiency. So I said to myself, “well okay internet, if you say so!”, and set that as my long term goal going forward.

Spoiler Alert: I did not hit that goal in my first year. I am not crazy and will never listen to Japanese in my sleep regardless of what Khatzumoto (the creator of All Japanese All the Time) says. 

I did, however, hit a total 1,226.65 active immersion hours in my first year, so I guess I’m still a bit nuts. That is 874.96 hours of active listening and 351.69 reading hours. I also did 270.59 hours of passive listening, also known as the time in the very beginning of my immersion where I was using Japanese subtitles (therefore not really concentrating on listening alone). That’s a cumulative 1,497.24 hours spent with Japanese. That’s more than halfway towards my goal! 

To further break that down for curious animanga fans out there, that’s 973 episodes from 109 anime, 765 episodes from 33 dramas, 7 movies, and 967 chapters from 107 volumes of manga (21 series). Here’s my anilist and mydramalist to see what I’ve read/watched.

During all this, I was also doing my daily Anki reps and now I have a 530 day SRS streak (includes the time prior starting immersion and only doing RTK and some vocabulary cards) and a total 8,857 sentence cards. I’ve been averaging 406 cards daily (because I’m trying to cure my leeches) and I spend about an hour per day doing reps and learning new cards. I don’t really track my time on Anki, but I do have a set timer that goes off after 1-1:30 hours.

What I haven’t touched upon at all is output. I have not gone out of my way to find a tutor or a language partner. There’s still plenty of input out there to immerse in before I even consider outputting.

Graphs, stats, and more thoughts:

Here's my current card count in my main deck (minus the cards in my new/learning queue and leeches I've been relearning which are in separate decks):

That one day in 2019 where I did not do my cards because I was seriously doubting whether I can actually stick with language learning this time around will forever haunt and inspire me to keep going everyday.

Workflow and Tips

You might be wondering, how do I have a lot of time? I started this whole endeavor in the middle of a pandemic, which eliminated the option of me going to a language school, and a slew of other things I were considering doing last year became impossible (and if anything, very scary to do in a pandemic). All I can say is that, things work out eventually if it is His will, and if I can learn a skill before everything properly settles back down again, then why not? 

I wake up at 5 in the morning everyday to either do my Anki reps or read until the time when I need to get up and I listen to compressed audio throughout the day. The biggest tip is to switch the time you spend watching/reading in your native language to your target language instead. Listen to a podcast during your commute, watch an episode during lunch break, read before going to bed, do your Anki reps in the bathroom if you have to. 

But, if you’re feeling burnt out, there is no reason for you to not take a break! I have been watching a lot of Among Us streams before bed, and I chat with my friends from time to time. Language learning is not a race.

More Stats

Here are a couple of grids of the kanji characters that I have encountered at least once in my immersion and how well I have answered them in my vocabulary/sentence cards.

It's interesting that after almost 9000 words, I have yet to encounter every single character from the Remembering the Kanji 1 (RTK 1) book by James Heisig, which teaches you the most common use characters that are part of the 常用漢字. Which brings me to the question, was writing down every single character being taught in RTK worth it every time it came up in my reviews for the first 3-ish months I was reviewing them? Maybe, maybe not. It certainly removed my anxiety whenever looking at blocks of text in Japanese, but the longer I think about it, the more I feel I should have switched to Recognition RTK earlier. Still, being able to write in proper stroke order is cool I guess, and it also helps me when looking things up in the dictionary.

Here’s the same grid but in JLPT order:

I clearly need to grind those N2 and N1 level cards! Speaking of which, I have apparently almost covered every single character that could possibly appear in the JLPT (except for the N1 which I have only covered half of) in just a year's time. If the JLPT word frequency lists I’m using are accurate, I have about 2,000 words more to go to to cover most vocabulary that could appear in the test. This makes the "10,000 sentences/words to fluency" argument a reasonable milestone to aim for for Japanese learners if said aim is only to pass the test. That said, 10,000 words is just that, a milestone. It's more akin to a comfortable level of comprehension, but not my own concept of fluency which is being able to read with ease, speak articulately, and write comfortably.

READING IMMERSION GRAPHS

My biggest motivation for tracking my stats is for the purpose of seeing whether my reading speed is improving over time. Reading speed is also easier to measure than listening comprehension which is kind of subjective, so I had a lot of fun making these. What I found is that for the first volume or chapter of whatever it is I’m reading, I always take the time to get used to the writing style of the author. My speed really improves whenever I keep reading the same topic over and over again. On the other hand and quite obviously, looking up many new words in a row and trying to parse sentences slows me down.

Manga: Reading Speed Progression per Volume

I clearly love ちはやふる and I am not ashamed to admit it.

I need to start reading longer manga. When I do, I’ll probably split this graph into less than and greater than 20 volumes. Imagine if I start reading something ridiculously long as 名探偵コナン or ワンピース, these graphs will start breaching the bounds of time and space.

Novels: Time Spent Reading per Chapter

#neverforget the time I read chapter six of Norwegian Wood for 9 hours when it took me less than half that time in English RIP. Also, my interest in Kitchen plummeted LOL. Still planning to finish it don’t worry. 

I also need to start branching away from manga and start reading more novels and light novels, too just so I can make more pretty graphs.

Visual Novels: Time Spent Reading and Daily Word Count

Also known as images that clearly show that I’ve already spent several days only reading the prologue of Island. I’m not sweating. 切那 needs to stop using words I don’t know in succession. More thoughts on this VN far into the future.

Thoughts on Immersion

I can’t really say anything else other that that it works for me, and needless to say if you’re considering this method, remember that the SRS is your friend but immersion should be your one true love.

Prior to all this, I couldn’t even read a sample paragraph from Genki without being confused to my very soul. Yes, I know, it’s embarrassing, but that’s the truth. I was way more scared of failing my Japanese classes than my actual thesis for my bachelors degree, I kid you not. I would quite literally spend all my free time in university trying to understand grammar, memorize vocabulary, and answer my workbook exercises with little to no success. 

I tried so hard to get all the grammar “formulas” into my head for 1.5 years and it only brought me more confusion. I’m never going back to traditional classroom study for language learning, but I will still refer to grammar books when I need to, and not because I feel like I need to answer 4783342 different workbook exercises like my life depended on it.

I still can’t believe it, but with immersion this statement is actually true to a point, don’t try shadowing anime/or calling your boss anime language slurs, use your common sense:

study anime to understand Japanese > study Japanese to understand anime 

Future Goals/Plans

2,200 immersion hours was my initial goal, but honestly I feel like that number could be much higher. There’s still a lot of stuff I don’t understand (news, politics, sciences, etc.), so I’ll make attempts to cover more of those things in my immersion. 

I’ll continue reading more, because that’s a natural SRS in itself. Try to read longer manga, more novels, visual novels, and light novels, and maybe news articles. 

I’ll try to mine as much “JLPT vocab” as I can before making any attempts at taking the JLPT. I noticed that a lot of the words I know don’t appear in the JLPT word lists as much, even though they appear a lot in media/daily conversation. 

Continue mining all words I don’t know because all words are useful anyway. There is no such thing as useless words. I never really understood mining only “interesting words” or words that “pop up” in your immersion. As I said in my previous blog post, 美人局 is an interesting word and I certainly caught it being said in my immersion, but in the three languages I know, I wouldn’t know when I would be able to use such a word, as compared to something like ジャガイモ which is a significantly less interesting word, but is certainly useful to know. 

_

I have managed to talk up a storm, but if you have any questions regarding my process or recommendations for new immersion material, please feel free to send an ask/reply to this post. I love hearing about other people’s language learning/immersion journeys. 

See you on my next post!

[zephyrartz-owo]

Biggest offenders of this exact issue so far:

Wanted to draw Cass, Kate(Hiro/Tadashi's mom), and Diego when they were teenagers. Spent several hours looking up and making lists of new and relevant media from 2002-2010 and got lost in forum posts from 2004 about various Motorola phones and cellular plans at the time. Cass had a Motorola T720 in high school. She asked Kate to draw a little Ghostface on the shell if you even care.

Had ideas for Hiro and Tadashi's old home as well as Wasabi's and went to do some loose concept sketches. Idk what happened, but I blacked out for a weekend and now there's a hand drawn district map of San Fransokyo on my computer.

Looking up inspiration for Gogo's tattoos led me down a rabbit hole about traditional Korean art, browsing a few artist portfolios, and a bit of bird watching. This was back in October of last year and I still haven't drawn those damn tattoos.

Genuinely everything with Karmi. My reading rabbit holes usually end after 5 hours max but nooooo. The research topic I got stuck on for her spanned several days, near 6 hours a day, 4 doses worth of Adderall, a sleepless night, and a little bit of self gaslighting. BEST part about this is the fact that I guarantee there was a way faster and easier way to find the information I was looking for and just didn't know where to look. Hell on earth but I'll do it for her.

Wanted to do mock ups for some chapter title cards I had ideas for, the relevant one in question being titled "Daisy Bell". I had an idea to do a cutesy, simplistic, monochrome drawing of a pair of toys/figures representative of Hiro and Trina holding hands and dancing. Of course I never sketched this because I got distracted looking at old toys. I really enjoy vintage and antique stuff. Hiro was going to resemble an Artmark porcelain cat figure, the ones with the fur around their faces, and Trina was going to be designed after some of the "Wanda the Walking Doll" windups. I thought it'd be clever to have her represented as a windup doll considering she's an Automaton in canon^^. As for the title itself, it's referencing the IBM 7094's rendition of the song. There's a very complicated relationship between this specific version of Daisy Bell and Hiro's writing in my au that I kinda really wanna get into. If I'm lucky, maybe I can get myself to write that this weekend.

My attempt to draw today has once again been thwarted by my incessant and insatiable need to know the exact time frames and go into great detail for things that neither require it nor need to be completely thought out

I started today wanting to draw a joke post about Tadashi getting an ADHD diagnosis. Did I draw it? Not at all, but I can tell you about the two schools Hiro, Tadashi, and Wasabi went to, which district of San Fransokyo they're in, exactly what grades Hiro skipped and when, what years they graduated, and a year by year timeline for each grade so I can keep track.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Shuffle Playlist - Rewrite - Part of Your World - Harry Hook x Reader - Part 14 - Discoveries

=

Evie hung one of the last dresses on the transportation rack, when a knock sounded on her door. She pushed the dresses apart for her to step on the other side and called out; “come in!” Doug entered moments later, a smile on his face.

“Hey! How was the camping trip?” Evie turned to him with furrowed brows.

“C-Camping?” Doug's smile diminished and he looked at her slightly confused.

“yeah?” He tilted his head at Evie “Carlos and Jay said you and the others went on a last-minute camping trip to relax?...is-is that not what you did?” Evie sighed, the questions running through her mind stopping as she realized what had happened.

“oh, um, yeah they lied to you” Doug looked a bit offended “you see, Ben was kidnapped on the isle” now he looked alarmed “let me finish, we saved him and saved Auradon” Doug let out a small sigh of relief and took Evie's hands.

“is everyone okay?” Evie looked off to the side for a moment “you hesitated what happened” She grimaced and shook her head a bit.

“um, well…you know how our parents are kinda pieces of shit?” Doug looked surprised at the swear but nodded “well… Harry's dad is…kinda really bad and…that didn’t turn out well on Harry's side…that’s all I’m saying” she gave a small smile and turned, grabbing some of Dizzy’s accessories that she had brought back with her and sliding some on her arm to carry easier.

“Is he okay now?” Doug asked quietly, stepping to her side and leaning into her field of vision.

“yes” Evie assured him “Mal healed him when we left the isle and he’s with (y/n) now, he should be just fine for cotillion tomorrow~” Doug nodded and gave Evie a small smile.

“that’s good, you had me really worried for a moment there, was anyone else hurt?” Evie thought for a moment then shook her head.

“Mal has a cut on her cheek but that was the worst of our end thankfully.” She gave another smile and looked back down at the accessories “you know…while I was there…I realized something” Doug put his hand on her shoulder “I was lucky enough to be given a chance, and now I need to give someone else a chance too” her mind flashed back to five months ago when Harry had asked Ben to bring Uma over, and maybe after cotillion she could ask about Dizzy?

“My uncle bashful used the say that” Doug switched the topic, sensing Evie was not in the mood to talk about what had happened on the isle with him. Evie smiled, happy with the sudden change and turned to him, her brow raised a bit.

“did he?” Doug nodded, then pursed his lips a bit.

“but, really-really quietly” Evie laughed, spinning around to face the transportation rack and gesturing to it.

“come on, we have dresses to deliver~!” Doug happily obliged to her non-verbal request and moved to the rack, pushing it as Evie pulled it out of the room.

-

Two hours later, after every dress had been delivered, Evie returned to her room and grabbed her last two outfits she had to deliver.

A red rose gown and a red and black suit.

She handed the outfits to Doug and dug into her bag again, finding the red ruby earrings with small crossbones skulls hanging from the top. “perfect” she muttered, carefully holding them in her hand and leading Doug to (y/n)s room.

She knocked on the door, humming as a couple of moments passed by and no response came. She knocked again and sighed when again no response came, she gently opened the door and cooed as she looked inside the room.

On (y/n)s bed was her and Harry, curled up together under her many blankets as soft yellow fairy lights hung above them, the title screen of a movie playing on her tv.

Evie snuck into the room, gesturing Doug to be quiet as she set (y/n)s new earrings on her desk and motioned for Doug to hang hers and Harry's outfits on her closet door.

Evie spotted (y/n)s notepad on her desk and wrote out a small thank you note, pinning it to her corkboard that hung just next to her desk.

She ushered Doug out and turned, smiling at the sleeping couple, and slowly closed the door behind her, shushing it as it shut with a loud click.

“There we go” Evie sighed, turning to Doug and wrapping her arm around his “I’m starving, how about you?”

“Food sounds good” he chuckled, guiding Evie to the cafeteria.

-

Carlos watched from afar as Mal swung her feet just of the gazebo floor, her toes just grazing the cool lake water. He froze as she turned to look at him, her emerald green eyes softening and she invited him closer, turning back to the water as he did so and sat down beside her.

Mal laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, while she and Carlos hadn’t been friends before Auradon, she was glad that she had him by her side now.

“so…you broke up with Ben?” Carlos started, giving Mal a soft smile as she looked up at him. She slowly looked back down at the water as she thought of what to say.

“I…yeah” she sighed, letting her weight fully lean onto Carlos, who lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder. “I’m just…not ready for the relationship he wants…I know I hide my feelings and shit but…I really don’t know how he expected me to just, be good with all of this Auradon lady stuff within six months…I feel like a failure” Carlos let out a low hum, squeezing Mal's shoulder.

“well, you aren’t, you did your best, and your best was good enough, you just found out that that life…isn’t going to work out for you, it goes against your mental wiring, yes maybe you could adjust to it but would you be happy with it?” Mal pursed her lips, Carlos shook her a bit “well?”

“no” Mal muttered, picking at the loose thread on her pants “no I wouldn’t be happy like that…Ben…he said he wanted me…the real me, the isle me-wait…no he wouldn’t want her, she's rude as fuck” Mal smiled at the snort that erupted from Carlos, before it slipped off as she remembered something. Mal stopped Carlos as he was about to speak again “Hey…I did this for Evie but…I wanted to do the same for you” He looked at her confused “I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we were on the isle” he looked off to the side for a moment before he realized what she meant.

“oh! Yeah, it's no biggie” he attempted to brush it off but Mal adamantly shook her head.

“No! it's not “no biggie!” I treated you, Evie, and sometimes Jay, horribly! Even after we became friends! You were and are deserving of kindness, and I’m sorry that I was so fucked up that I was the rottenest little brat to you” Carlos stared at her with wide eyes. “what?”

His shocked look melted into a comforting grin “Thank you Mal” he wrapped his arms around her, pulling into a tight hug that only lasted a moment “sorry, just remembered; you’re not really affectionate” he laughed, grinning wider as Mal giggled along.

“it’s-its fine when it comes from you three” Mal hummed, turning to look back at the lake.

“sooo back to the Ben break up talk?” Carlos tried, smirking as Mal blew a raspberry “come on, you need to talk it out with someone, or else you’re gonna explode keeping it all bottled up.”

“…I’m happy I broke up with him” Mal spilled, not looking at Carlos as his brows shot up “I thought about our future and I realized if I kept doing what I was doing, and we kept going with how we were…neither of us would have been happy…I need to learn to love myself before I can love him properly, because…if (y/n)s forced quote an’ unquote therapy sessions” Carlos laughed at that “taught me anything. It’s that…I rely on someone else's love to measure my self-worth”

Carlos hummed, squeezing Mal's shoulder again “that’s not a good thing”

“no!” Mal huffed, running her hands through her hair and pulling at the roots “it isn’t! I've been trying to earn my mother's love for 16 years, then I just hop to doing so much bullshit to make sure Ben will love me! I dyed my hair blonde, I dressed in those itchy dresses, I dropped my entire personality for all that! And-and it wasn’t good, I felt like I was slipping away Carlos” Mal sobbed, tears trailing down her cheeks as she finally broke “I don’t even remember what I’m supposed to act like without all that because I spent so long doing it I just-I forgot what being ME felt like” Carlos fully wrapped his arms around Mal and pulled her tight to his side.  “I-I know it sounds like I’m being pathetic and having a fucking pity party but I’m just so fucking scared Carlos” Mal whimpered, throwing her arms around Carlos’ torso and pushing her cheek against his shoulder “on the isle my life was commanded by my mother and my identity was pleasing her, and here my life has been being Ben’s girlfriend and pleasing the people of Auradon so they think I’m not some villain whose just after Ben because he’s king…I-I do really like Ben Carlos”

Mal sniffed, pulling back one of her arms and wipe her nose “I do, it's just that…being with him hasn’t helped me move on from my mother bullshit and im-gah!” Mal let out a yell, pulling back from Carlos and burying her face in her hands “I’m having a fucking identity crisis because of my fucking mother! Why can’t she just leave me alone! Why can't all this dumb shit be left behind five months ago! Why do I still have to deal with it?!” Carlos let Mal rant, rubbing her back as she broke down.

“because life is unfair that way” Carlos sighed “Mal I know exactly what you're dealing with right now” Mal peeked out from her fingers, her eyes shining “I still have nightmares from living in my mother’s closet, getting trapped in the bear traps on the ground, or when she would burn me with her cigarette…even ones were she sends dogs at me to kill me…I still hear her voice in my head, telling me I’m worthless, that I’ll never be better than dog chow, my only use was being her servant” Carlos swallowed down the lump in his throat “but I know she's wrong, I’m not anything she says. I’m a tech genius, I've made several computers on the isle just from scraps, I've enhanced my 3D printer to be the best in Auradon, faster than any other and the quality is still top-notch, I've made a tiny little device that was able to make a hole in the barrier, I've gotten offers to work for Tony fucking Stark!” Mal gasped, reaching forward to grab Carlos' shoulders in excitement.

“holy shit what!? When? How? Why?!” Carlos smiled, prying off her grip.

“I knew you all were distracted by something else, especially you, so I didn’t want to make you stressed by my stuff either, it was two months ago. I didn’t take the offer because I want to finish school, but the offer still stands when I graduate in two years” Mal grinned, but it turned to a pout as Carlos gave her a look “Now back to the original topic, I’m not letting you deviate from it, you need to let it all out”

Mal stared at him for a moment before shrugging “I…feel like I already did…Auradon is stressful, my mother is the base of all my mental shit, and I’m not ready to be in a relationship with the dude I love because until I can love myself and learn not to rely on others value of me as my own value I can't be with him in a way that won't hurt him” Carlos slowly grinned “what?” “you said you love Ben~” he teased, laughing as Mal turned red and smacked him.

“I did not!!” she screeched, yelping as Carlos half tackled her and pulled her into an arm lock “Let me go you heathen!”

“you love Ben~ you love Ben~” Carlos sang, laughing as she tried to smack at his face “Come on, pixie! Let's get you back to the dorms, I think you need a nap”

“Don’t call me pixie!”

“How bout gremlin?”

“Carlos!!”

-

Chad carefully pulled the 3D printed copy of the king's crown from the printer and pressed a kiss to the emblem on the front. “Finally,~” He walked over to the mirror that was installed in Jay's standing dresser and carefully perched the crown on his head, smiling as his full cotillion outfit came to light.

He looked like a king~

He tilted the crown down a bit and laughed, posing in the mirror “oh what's that? Why no Audrey, I haven’t chosen my queen yet~” He purred to the fake Audrey in his mind. He turned and started to walk away before spinning back around to pose again “why no Audrey-”

Suddenly his phone rang, and he turned, raising his brow as he walked over to his phone “who could be calling me?”

Caller ID - Audrey <3

Chad let out a high-pitched scream of excitement, dropping his phone to the floor as he gripped his head “ahhAH! Audrey!!!”

“chad!” Carlos groaned, glaring as the other dived to the floor for his phone, and shushed him “Chad! This is my room chad!”

Chad shushed him again, making Carlos roll his eyes. Chad hit the answer button on his phone “Audrey?”

“Hey Chad um, I’m kind of stuck in Sherwood forest, my tire went flat. Could, could you come help me?”

“yeah of course!” Chad covered the mic and turned back to Carlos “she got a flat tire in Sherwood forest and she wants me to come fix it~” Carlos squinted a bit and looked at Chad with an odd look.

“that’s six hours away”

Chad looked at him as if what he said wasn’t a long road trip. “Really? Only six?” he turned back to his phone and put it back to his ear “I’m gonna be there faster than I thought”

“Thanks Chad, I was going to come to cotilli-“ he pulled the phone away and pressed a kiss to the screen, hanging up on Audrey and starting to walk out the door when Carlos stopped him.

“Ah-My printer my crown” Carlos took the crown off Chad's head, who chuckled and gestured back from the printer to the crown before shrugging it off.

“I’m coming Audrey!” he ran down the halls towards his car, leaving a bewildered Carlos in his dorm.

“wow,” Carlos snorted, shaking his head and walking into the room, tossing the crown on Jay's bed. Carlos flopped down on his bed, Dude hopping up next to him moments later “these last two days have been crazy huh?”

“You can say that again” Dude snorted, halfway crawling on Carlos' chest and laying his head down “Nap time?”

“Nap time” Carlos chuckled, pulling his pillow over his face to block out the afternoon sun and sighed.

-end of part 14-

yep, part 14, we’re almost to Cotillion guys! also yep, Doug does not accuse Evie of cheating on him even though he had no reason to do so in the movie and he shows concern over Evie and her friends safety when she tells him about the isle~ what?? no~ this isn't a dig at Doug's awful D2 writing!! how could you accuse me of such a thing~! (Doug had alot of potential but like Mal it got ruined in the second movie and he was pushed as a full on background character in the third) also MORE CARLOS CONTENT~ yes he is smart boi and deserves that recognition and yes, the avengers exist in this universe. hopefully that Mal talk didnt sound like a pity party. 

anyway PERMTAGLLIST

@queer-cosette​ @sephiralorange​

@lunanight2012​ @daughter-of-the-stars11​

@musicarose​ @random-thoughts-003​

@remembered-license​ @rintheemolion​

@thecaptainsgingersnap​ @descendantsobsessed​

@verboetoperee​ @imtryingthisout​

taglist

@thesailbells​ @beccad10x​

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | one

pairing: mark tuan x reader

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

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

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*: hiiiiii! so here we go. i don’t have much to say except that you’ll probably notice this chapter is a bit shorter than they usually are for my fics. with this story, chapters may or may not be shorter in length. this is just easier on me, and helps me to keep a regular posting schedule. now, i’m not going to say i won’t post longer chapters, but i just wanted to get it out there. i have a tentative posting schedule in mind, which i’ll make a post about later, but i’d say you can probably expect a new chapter every two weeks. 

also, just want to say- i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy right now. stay home, wash your hands, avoid contact with your face, and if you have to order food tip your delivery drivers a lil extra! and to those that don’t get to stay home and still have to work, i’m right there with you. we’ll get through this and all we can do is take it day by day ❤️

✩ index here ✩

make sure you read the prologue first! 

Today had started just like any other day. Mark got up and went about his morning, brushing his teeth, eating his breakfast, and taking his usual ten minutes to sketch the ideas in his brain before heading off to work. 

It’d been slow, but Mark wasn’t worried. There were enough appointments on Saturday and Sunday to make up for a slow Friday. The temperature had reached an uncomfortable high, so he’d dressed himself in a black muscle tee to offer some relief from the sticky air. 

The early afternoon went smoothly. Mark took the opportunity to work on some new designs and do some organizing in his tattoo room, while the other guys opted to sit around showing each other funny videos on their phones. 

By the time lunch rolled around, he decided to sit outside with his iced coffee, scrolling through social media on his phone while relaxing in the shade of the awning. He glanced up mindlessly, his eyes drawn to a figure standing across the street. 

A girl holding an ice cream cone. Mark’s breath caught in his throat because, no, it wouldn’t be you. You’d be back home, attending some tiny college where your parents could keep a watchful eye on your every move, not here in the great big city. 

Then the girl dropped her ice cream cone, her whine audible even from where Mark sat. He couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips. He shook his head, just as there was a knock behind him on the glass of the door. 

Dahyun popped her head out. “Youngjae needs help grabbing some boxes from the back, can you help? Jackson and Yugyeom are being assholes.” 

Mark nodded, one last glance across the street before he stood up, heading back inside.

-----

You took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as Mark pressed the tip of his tattoo gun to your skin. Just the constant buzzing of the tool was enough to set your nerves on edge. 

Once you felt it, though, it wasn’t so bad. It hurt, but you’d been through worse. It was comparable to a thousand tiny kittens scratching you with their claws, over and over again. 

“You doing alright?” Mark asked, once one long minute had passed. 

You nodded, your arms squeezing the back of the chair you were straddling. It was an uncomfortable position, but it was the only way Mark would be able to access the back of your shoulder. You’d also had to strip down to just your bra, so at least you were given some modesty. 

“Yeah. Just... how long will it take?” 

Glancing over your shoulder, you noticed how hard he was concentrating. His tongue was stuck between his lips, peeking out the corner. He was entirely focused on the art that he was tracing onto your skin. 

“Not long. The shading is what will take the longest, but it’s small, so I should have you out of here within the hour.” 

You exhaled slowly and pressed your forehead into the cushioned back of the chair as he went over the same area a few times. Though he muttered a ‘sorry’, you found yourself wincing from the pain. 

Yerin had left to get ready for work, as the stenciling and position process had gone on longer than either of you had thought. You’d made Mark move the stencil several times until you liked the positioning. Admittedly, it had been a stalling tactic to delay the inevitable pain that was coming. 

“How’s Taehyung?” Mark asked, just as he took a break from tracing onto your skin. You opened your eyes to see him reaching for a cloth to wipe across your skin. 

The question caught you off guard. Just the name of your brother was enough to rub salt into the wound you’d been holding closed for the last two months. You gulped, turning your face to press your other cheek into the chair, hiding your expression. 

“He’s good. He’s been in Japan for two years now, I think. He’s happy there.” 

You barely even noticed Mark returning to your tattoo, the pain less noticeable while your mind was occupied. 

“That’s good. I saw on Facebook he has a girlfriend now?” 

You nodded. “Mhm. Her name’s Jennie--she seems nice.” 

Mark didn’t need to know that you hadn’t spoken to your brother since the week before you moved to Seoul. He didn’t need to know you’d been avoiding his calls, texts, and e-mails. Most of them you deleted without even opening. 

From what you knew, Taehyung and Mark had simply drifted once they both moved out of your tiny town and started creating a life for themselves. Taehyung spent his years after college roaming the world, taking photos and putting on exhibits until he secured a steady photography job for a Japanese magazine. 

Mark moved before that, though you hadn’t known he’d moved to the city until today. You hadn’t ever been close to him besides the casual greeting when he’d be downstairs playing video games with Taehyung while you were doing homework. 

When you were younger, you’d had an innocent crush on him, only because he was one of the few boys that paid you any attention. You’d only ever had a handful of conversations, but he was always polite and even helped you with your math homework once or twice. It really hadn’t taken much to impress you back then.

“So, how long have you been in the city?” Mark asked. 

You were grateful for the slight change in subject. It was only a matter of time before he started asking about your parents, and you wouldn’t have been able to pretend any longer. 

“A couple of months. I just… wanted a change,” you told him honestly. 

Maybe you’d gotten more than you’d bargained for… but regardless, you were grateful for your newfound independence. 

“I get it,” Mark replied. “Alright, outline is done. Now we’ll just have to shade. I’ll give you a few minutes, okay?” 

You lifted your face from the back of the chair and sat up straight. “Can I see it?” you asked. 

It took a moment for you to realize Mark’s ears were turning red because without the shield of the chair, your entire bra-clad chest was now on display for him. It didn’t help that you’d chosen a pink, lacy bra just because it was the first one you’d grabbed out of your laundry bag. 

Quickly, you leaned forward again to cover yourself with the chair, biting forcefully onto your lip. You could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Sorry…” you said.

Mark cleared his throat and turned around, reaching for a handheld mirror on the table behind him. “It’s okay… I’ve definitely seen worse. Not that it was bad, or, well-” 

It was obvious he’d put his foot in his mouth. You found yourself giggling, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. Mark looked as if he was desperate for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head at himself as he turned back around. “Here,” he said chuckling softly as he held up the mirror behind you so that you could see the work he’d already done. 

You managed to stifle your giggles as you turned your head. It was no wonder Mark was known for pieces like this--his lines were crisp and clear, flowing in such a way that it looked as if your skin was born with this intricate design. You couldn’t wait to see how it looked when it was complete.

“Good?” he asked.

“I love it,” you said, smiling wide. “Makes the pain worth it.” 

Mark looked pleased with your answer. He set the mirror down and got up, switching out the ink on his pen for the color he was going to use for the petals, a soft cool toned purple. 

You resumed your position against the chair after a few more minutes, fists clenched as you prepared for the pain. 

-----

It turned out not to be so bad. Mark kept you distracted, asking you questions about your experience in the city so far. When he sensed you avoiding the topic of home or your parents, he didn’t push. 

Once he got your tattoo bandaged up, you sat around talking for another half an hour while he showed you photos of his drawings, as per your request. You’d never known that he was so talented. 

“I guess I should be going,” you said after a lull in conversation. If you wanted to get back to your room before your roommate began their daily music blasting and loud video game routine, you’d need to head back. 

“Where are you staying?” he asked, pulling off his gloves and washing his hands in the miniature sink against the wall.

“Just… this little place,” you answered. Little was an understatement. 

When you’d moved out, you’d only had a suitcase and a finite amount of cash. It hadn’t exactly been planned, so your options were limited. You stayed in the first hostel you could find, and you were disappointed to find that the wages you received from serving couldn’t provide you with anything better. 

You shared a room, currently with a Russian girl a few years older than you that seemed to only be staying in Seoul to play shooting games and blast ear-piercing rock metal. Your last roommate hadn’t been nearly as bad, but you weren’t having great luck. 

“Here, I’m just finishing up for the day. Why don’t we grab a bite to eat, then I’ll take you home.” 

Your efforts to refuse his offer were basically ignored. He gave you no choice as he led you out to the front room to pay for your tattoo, whispering something lowly to Dahyun as she wrote up your bill. 

“Mark,” you said in protest once you saw the total. You didn’t know much about tattoo pricing, but you were sure this was significantly lower than it should have been.

“What? It’s a family and friends discount.”

You sighed. As much as you wanted to refuse his help, you had to admit you could take whatever discounts you could get. Tattoos were expensive and you certainly didn’t have the budget to get one as impulsively as you had today. 

“I’ll get my stuff ready, then I’ll meet you outside, okay?” Mark asked and you nodded, watching as he walked off to his room. 

“Family and friends, huh?” Dahyun asked, eyebrows raised as she watched you sign your receipt. “You must have gotten really close back there.” 

You laughed, sliding the receipt back over the table. “It turns out, he used to be best friends with my older brother. So… family, I guess,” you said, though you never really saw him as such. No matter how many times your mother acted like he was her second son. 

“Wow, small world,” Dahyun said as she handed over a sheet of paper with a list of bullet points on it. She went over the aftercare process, recommending the creams and ointments that she preferred, and ways to help it heal faster. 

After thanking Dahyun over and over for her kindness, you gathered your things and waited outside of the front door for Mark. 

When your day began, you never would have thought you’d be having dinner with your brother’s old best friend, bringing back memories you hadn’t quite been ready to revisit. But he was so sweet to you, so easy to talk to, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You didn’t want to say no. 

You’d always admired Mark’s choice to move to Seoul straight out of school, with no plan and no connections to the city. And he only came back for holidays and special occasions. While you were hastily packing your clothes into a duffel bag, you remembered thinking briefly of him. 

“Ready?” Mark asked from behind you as he exited the shop. The sunlight hit his skin, bringing your attention to the swirling designs upon his shoulder. The way his shirt was cut allowed you a peek of his ribs—you could see loopy cursive etched on his skin but you were unable to make it out.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you replied with a smile, tearing your eyes from his bare skin. 

[canarygirl1017]

Hands On Me - Chapter 1

Pairing: Reader / Jungkook

Genre:  College!au, fluff, mild angst, smut 

Length:  4,341k  words

Warnings:  language, sexual themes 

Summary:  You’d never had much luck with relationships, and experience had taught you to shy away from physical intimacy. But when you started dating your neighbor, Jungkook, you began to think he was worth the risk. College AU. 

A/N:  Next chapter coming soon. I originally wrote this a few months ago based on a prompt I got from my writer’s group. It was supposed to be college based romance, couple’s first time together, mildly angsty, and include the dialogue “Do you want to break up?” I sort of vaguely pictured JK when I was writing the male lead, at least visually, so I thought I would post it as a reader fan fic, which I’ve never written before. I usually write Marvel fan fic at AO3 in third person (not second person) so this isn’t as natural for me. Also, this is just for funsies because I don’t do real life shipping with real life people, though I do enjoy reading some of the well written fics I’ve seen in the fandom. If people enjoy this one, I might post more as I have a lot of short story prompts I’ve written for my club and don’t do anything with. 

Chapter 1

Snuggled up on the sofa watching TV together was how you spent most evenings with your boyfriend, Jungkook. You did a quick clean that morning in anticipation of him coming over since he seemed to prefer being in your space, though it hardly mattered; home was just a few doors down regardless of which apartment you chose to spend time together in.

You shifted your attention from the book you were reading to Jungkook’s profile, fingers itching to trace the sharp jawline that attracted so many women to the gym where he worked as a part-time trainer while he finished university. He also needed a haircut, but he’d shrugged off the suggestion when you mentioned it earlier that week. The slightly longer, inky black locks suited him though.

He was focused on the basketball game that had gone into overtime, his thumb absentmindedly stroking against your hip as you leaned against him. Being close to him was a double-edged sword lately and a reminder that he hadn’t really touched you in a while. Not since that night a few weeks ago.

When you first started dating three months ago, he’d been very physical with you. Dates that ended with kisses at the door had quickly turned into dates that ended with making out on the sofa at his apartment or yours. But during one very heated session on his sofa you got nervous, suddenly worried that things were moving too fast, and you pulled back. To his credit, Jungkook backed off immediately, assuring you that he was fine with following a slower pace.

Your high school boyfriend had pushed for sex and against your better judgment, you’d slept with him after the senior winter formal, only to be devastated when he moved on less than a month later. Similarly, your last boyfriend had been very pushy about sex, and your reluctance was a bone of contention between you until he broke it off.

At twenty-two, Jungkook was a year older, and you knew that he was much more experienced. You’d been neighbors for almost a year now, and you’d seen several of the girls he dated coming and going during that time. You’d never spoken to one another outside the occasional hello in passing until the night you came back from work to find your ex-boyfriend, Mike, drunk and pounding on your door.

Since you didn’t want to let him into your apartment, you stood outside to talk to him. Apparently offended that you wouldn’t let him in, he’d begun berating you loudly enough to have a few neighbors popping their heads out to see what was going on. And in the middle of that embarrassing situation, Jungkook and his friend walked up.

“Hey y/n,” Jungkook said. “Sorry we’re late.”

He slipped an arm around your waist, startling you, though you couldn’t deny you were grateful for the interruption.

His friend chimed in, holding up a takeout bag. “We brought dinner.” You’d seen him around campus and remembered that his name was Jimin.

Mike had eyed Jungkook, as if sizing up a potential fight. But while he had an inch or two on Jungkook in height, Jungkook was all lean muscle and without question the stronger of the two. So, he had backed off, but not before firing off a parting shot. “Good luck with the virgin. Cold fish bitch.”

Your cheeks were burning as he walked away.

Jimin broke the silence. “What an asshole. Does he do this a lot?”

You shook your head. “This is the first time I’ve seen him since we broke up.” You could only assume the alcohol had made him think that you were a potential booty call.  

Jungkook frowned as he stepped out of your personal space. “Sorry if I overstepped. I know it’s not my business, but I didn’t like the way he was crowding you at the door and yelling at you.”

“No, I appreciate you getting rid of him,” you answered. “Thank you.”

Jimin held up the takeout bag again. “We really do have dinner. Do you want to join us? Maybe it’s better if you’re not here alone in case he decides to come back.”

You hesitated, but then your stomach growled, a reminder that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast because of a hectic day of classes followed by work at the campus library.

Jungkook smiled. “We’ll take that as a yes.”

You became friends with Jungkook after that night. It was amazing how quickly you’d felt comfortable around him. He was kind and friendly, and he frequently helped the elderly residents of your building. Then one night after he’d shown up at the campus library and walked you the few blocks home, he kissed you. It marked the beginning of your new relationship, and you’d been inseparable ever since.

Unlike the few other guys you had dated, Jungkook had never directly brought up the topic of sex, nor had he pushed for it. You’d had a brief conversation one night about your respective exes. You knew he’d had one serious relationship that ended when he moved away for college and the long-distance relationship proved to be too much of a strain. He’d only dated casually since then, though you’d seen some of his overnight guests leaving his apartment the morning after.

Jungkook knew you’d had a boyfriend in high school, but you hadn’t gone into the details of the breakup. Though it was several years in the past, that rejection still stung, and you didn’t like to talk about it. He’d never asked about Mike other than to ensure you weren’t being harassed. You supposed the drunken scene he and Jimin had witnessed was explanation enough.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you failed to notice the game had ended until Jungkook spoke. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

You looked up to see him watching you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Doing what?”

“Completely zoning out,” he replied with a half-smile. “Is something bothering you?” His chocolate brown eyes studied you intently.

“No,” you said quickly. Maybe too quickly because you could tell he didn’t quite believe you. His tongue pushed against his cheek, something he did when he was thinking about how to deal with a problem.

After a moment, he nodded. “Okay.” He stood up and stretched. “I should get going. I have an early client tomorrow.”

Saturdays were always busy at his gym, and he sometimes worked longer hours on the weekends. “Do you have clients tomorrow night?”

“One,” he confirmed as he pulled on his leather jacket. “Jen’s birthday party is tomorrow, right?”

You nodded as you walked to the door with him. “We’ll be at Carmen’s.” Jen had been planning her birthday for months and wanted a venue with good food, music and dancing. The trendy bar had only been open for about a year, but it was popular for the menu, which included themed cocktails, and the Latin music. You’d been looking at salsa dancing tutorials on YouTube because you were sure that your best friend would insist on hitting the dance floor.

“Okay. Jimin and I will swing by around ten.”

Jimin and Jen were involved in a casual flirtation that they both enjoyed, though you weren’t so sure it was really going anywhere. Jimin was a handsome transfer student studying modern dance, which took up a lot of his time, much to the disappointment of the single girls on campus. And for the two years you’d been friends, you had never known Jen to date anyone seriously. Still, Jen had heavily hinted that she wanted Jimin to come to her birthday party, and so you had told Jungkook to bring him.

“Okay.” You tilted your head back as he leaned down to kiss you goodbye.

You loved kissing him – the way his hands settled on your hips, and the way the first gentle brush of his lips against yours always gave way to slow, deep kisses. Your hands drifted down his chest to his waist, clutching the material of his t-shirt to ground yourself.

It would be so easy to get swept away. By the heat that flared between you. By your feelings. You knew without a doubt that you had fallen hard for him.

Jungkook pulled back, kissing the top of your head before releasing you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You closed the door behind him and locked up, leaning your head against it for a moment. You were beginning to regret letting him leave every night even if you weren’t sure if you were ready for more. You wanted more, but you were afraid of it too. And you had no idea what to do about it.

_________________________________________

 You nibbled your bottom lip as you sat on Jen’s bed, watching your friend dig through her closet. “Do you think I should…” you paused, wondering how to broach this topic. While Jen had few conversational barriers, you were more hesitant to talk about sex.

“Should what?” Jen asked, her tone distracted as she pulled out another dress and tossed it over the chair at her desk. She tapped her well-manicured nails against the wall as she studied the contents of her closet before pulling out another dress and dropping it on the chair.

You glanced at the pile of dresses accumulating on the chair. “I thought you were going to wear that new dress you bought last week?”

“This isn’t for me,” Jen stated. “This is for you.”

You failed to contain a snort of laughter. “You’re like six inches taller than me. And I have a dress.” It wasn’t new, and Jen had complained that the dark color washed you out the last time you wore it. But unlike Jen, whose wealthy parents supplied her with credit cards and charge accounts around the city, you couldn’t afford to waste money on clothes. Your parents helped when they could, but you also had three younger siblings still at home and college was only possible because of your scholarships. Living in the city was also expensive; if not for Jungkook contributing to your groceries since you often ate together, you’d probably be eating ramen five nights a week.

“And I’m a fashion design student, so I have time to alter one of these. If I have to see you in that funeral dress again, I’m going to burn it. Worse, do you really want Jungkook to see you in it?” she shuddered as she tossed another dress on the chair. “Okay, I think these are the best options. Now, what were you asking? Do I think you should what?”

You hadn’t considered that Jungkook might also hate that dress. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see what Jen had in mind. Arguing with her was next to impossible anyway.

You helped Jen hang the dresses on a clothes rack in the corner so you could see them better. “Do you think I should sleep with Jungkook?”

Jen raised a brow as she glanced over at you. “Hell yes. Have you talked about it?”

You shook your head. “No. I kind of… I don’t know. Freaked out a little bit a few weeks ago when we were kissing and stuff. It seemed like we were headed there, and I wasn’t sure I was ready, and I know I totally pulled a one eighty on him. And now he barely touches me.”

“Huh.” Jen considered that for a minute. “So things are weird now? Are you afraid he’s going to break up with you or something?”

You hadn’t really thought about that. “I wasn’t, but now that you said it, maybe.” You had mostly been worried that if you broke up after sleeping together, he’d be that much harder to get over because you knew that you’d be more attached to him then than you already were. But maybe that worry – that he would leave because you were holding back – had been there all along.

“I’m not saying he would do that,” Jen hurried to add. “I’ve seen how he acts around you, and how he looks at you. I really think he’s one of the good ones. But with your past experiences, I can see why you’d be worried. Has he ever been pushy about it?”

“No, never. When I told him that I thought we were moving too fast, he said he’d follow my pace. Only now, we’ve just kind of stalled out.”

“I guess he’s waiting for you to do something then. Like give him a signal that you want more.”

That could be it too. “I don’t really know how,” you admitted. “I have one night’s experience to draw from, and that was years ago.”

“That wasn’t an experience, y/n, that was a sexual travesty.”

You couldn’t argue with that. “He’s experienced though. I’m sure he knows how to make it good for me, but I don’t know how to do that for him. What if I’m bad in bed?”

“First of all, you have no idea how you are in bed because you’re practically still a virgin. Second, men are easier to please when it comes to sex anyway. Jungkook likes you. It’s easy to tell that he has real feelings for you, so I think there’s zero chance that he wouldn’t like sex with you. You really need to talk to him about it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up just thinking about trying to talk to him about this. “I know. I’m just embarrassed.”

Jen rolled her eyes. “If you can’t talk about it, you probably shouldn’t be doing it. Or I guess you could take the easier route and wear something that does the seduction for you. Like this.” She held up a deep red halter neck dress. The low neckline and back ensured maximum skin exposure. Jen was tall and had long, dark hair so on her, it probably looked fabulous.

Eyeing the dress with skepticism, you said, “That dress is your style, not mine. I’ve never worn anything like that before.” Your style could best be described as casual. On date night, you managed flirty casual, and Jungkook didn’t seem to have any complaints. This dress was on a whole other level, though.

“We can make it your style. I’ll make sure it’s not too revealing if that’s what you’re worried about.” When you still hesitated, Jen added, “Come on, Jungkook will forget how to talk when he sees you in this. I guarantee that you won’t have any trouble getting him into bed if that’s what you decide you want.”

The idea of surprising Jungkook with something like this was appealing. Maybe shaking up your image for one night would give you the confidence to talk to him about your relationship.

_____________________________________

 Jungkook stifled a yawn as he entered Carmen’s. It had been an exceptionally long day, and he wished this was a regular Saturday night like the ones he usually spent with his girlfriend, y/n. He liked being in your apartment because your sofa was comfortable, you had an old record player and some killer albums that you’d collected since middle school, and your essential oil candles made everything smell nice.

Jimin had been teasing him for a couple of months now, calling him domesticated. He supposed he was because before meeting you, he rarely spent a Saturday night in. If someone had told him then that he’d soon trade beers at his favorite bar for candles and snuggling on the sofa, he would have laughed.

And since Jimin rarely got him out on a weekend anymore, and Jen had equal complaints about you, he doubted either of you would get away with ducking out early.

“Are they upstairs or downstairs?” Jimin asked.

“Downstairs, I think,” he replied.

He let Jimin lead the way. It was crowded downstairs, and he first searched the booths and bar area, expecting to find you chatting with friends. You always said dancing in public made you feel awkward unless you were drunk, and since your alcohol tolerance was low, you usually didn’t drink much.

“I see Jen on the dance floor,” Jimin said. “Did you find her?”

“No.” Jungkook scanned the dance floor, briefly pausing on a petite girl wearing a red dress before looking back at the booths. “Maybe she’s in the bathroom.” He pulled out his phone to call you.  

“Wait, is that y/n?” Jimin suddenly asked.  

Jungkook glanced up from his phone. “Where?”

“That girl in the red dress.”

He looked back at the dance floor for the girl in red, ready to deny it. Except she’d turned around now, and Jimin was right. Holy shit.

“Damn. I know I’ve been giving you a hard time lately, calling you domesticated. I’ll shut up now because if I knew I was taking her home later, I’d be domesticated too.”

Jungkook glared at Jimin. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

Jimin’s expression was sheepish. “Sorry, man. I’m going to hell for impure thoughts, but so are half the guys hanging around her. You might want to worry more about them.”

Jungkook was already on the move as he’d noticed the same thing. Shouldering past two guys trying to dance up behind you, he gave them a look that ensured they backed off. Your back was facing him, and he swallowed hard as his eyes drifted down from your shoulders. The dress draped in the small of your back, leaving a bare expanse of skin, and his fingers literally itched to touch you.

He gave in to the urge, sliding his hand along your waist lightly to get your attention. You turned your head, brows furrowed as you flinched away from the unexpected touch. But when you saw it was him, you smiled and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“You’re here,” you said, tilting your head back to look at him. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

He smiled at your uncharacteristically dramatic tone. “Sorry. I forgot my bag, so I had to run home to change. Are you having fun?” You were pressed close against him on the crowded dance floor, and he was enjoying the feeling of your small body against his. He let his hands settle on your hips, thumbs rubbing light circles. You shivered in response. “Are you cold?”

“No. That just feels good,” you said with a sigh. You toyed with the top button of his long-sleeved white Henley.

He wasn’t used to you being that direct about what you liked. And when your hands suddenly wandered under his leather jacket and ran up his back, he suppressed a shiver of his own. “I think you’re drunk, baby.” He pulled you closer, trying to ignore the teasing glimpse of cleavage revealed by your dress. Your hair drifted around your pale shoulders in loose waves, and all he could think about was running his fingers through it as he kissed you.  

“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “The cocktails are really good here.”

God, you were adorable. He’d never met another girl that he wanted to simultaneously fuck senseless but also protect and cuddle, though the former urge was winning out tonight. He’d never imagined you wearing a dress like this, and he knew it would be fueling his fantasies for quite some time. It had to be Jen’s influence, though he certainly wasn’t complaining.

As if reading his thoughts, Jen suddenly sidled past him on her way to the bar. “You’re welcome.”

For the next three hours, you divided your time between the dance floor and the bar, and Jungkook was content to follow behind you. You danced slowly together regardless of the beat, and he finally allowed his hands to stroke your bare back. You kept tilting your head back, inviting his kisses, and he was happy to indulge you. He was so turned on he could hardly think straight, but he knew he needed to keep a tight rein on the situation. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of that night a few weeks before when you had all but run from his apartment.

When you got a bit unsteady on your feet, Jungkook ordered water and fries at the bar before leading you to the booth where Jimin, Jen and a couple of other friends were talking. He could tell you were starting to fade as you finished the water and food. When you yawned and leaned against him, he kissed the top of your head. “I think it’s time we got you home.”

You hummed in agreement. Jen tossed him your jacket from the corner of the booth, and he helped you put it on. The cab ride back home was long enough for you to fall asleep in his arms. He savored every minute, stroking your hair gently, lulled by the sound of your breathing and glad that you had shaken off the pensive mood you’d been in the night before.

Jungkook was observant enough to realize that something was worrying you lately. While it bothered him that you wouldn’t tell him what you were thinking about, he worried that the relationship was still too fragile for him to push when it was obvious that you didn’t want to talk about it. Still, it was becoming increasingly difficult to let it go because he was concerned that it had something to do with him.

He wondered if it was about sex. Ever since that night he’d intervened when your ex showed up drunk, he’d wondered about your relationship with him. Something in the past had made you nervous about physical intimacy, which he’d realized after you ran out of his apartment that night, and he’d been very careful not to do anything that might make you run again. More and more he wished he’d punched that asshole, feeling certain he was somehow to blame. He’d deserved that and more for the name calling alone.

When you arrived home, Jungkook paid the driver and helped you from the car. Upstairs, he unlocked your apartment, smiling when you kicked your heels off and the effort sent you stumbling sideways. He steadied you before removing your jacket and draping it on the arm of the sofa. You walked to your bedroom and he grabbed some water from the kitchen before following you.

“You don’t feel sick, do you?” he asked, placing the water on your nightstand.

You shook your head as you sat on the edge of the bed and reached out a hand to him. “No.”

He took your hand and sat next to you. “You should change before you go to sleep, so you’ll be more comfortable.”

“You like the dress, right?” You nibbled your bottom lip as you peeked up at him through your lashes.

Understatement. “You look beautiful,” Jungkook said quietly, pushing your hair off your shoulder. His breath caught when you turned her cheek toward his palm and rubbed against him like a sleepy kitten.

“Then kiss me,” you whispered.

He hesitated, but you were already reaching for him. The kiss was like throwing a match on kindling. Then you scooted back to lie down and pulled him with you.

This was dangerous and he knew it, but he ignored the niggling little warning in his head because he’d been thinking about kissing you like this all night. He pressed against your soft curves but kept most of his weight off you as slow kisses turned more passionate. And when your hands grew bolder, running across his chest and back and tugging him closer, he gave in to the temptation, pulling you more fully beneath him.

When you parted your thighs, allowing his hips to settle between them, he dropped his head to your shoulder with a groan. Pressing kisses against your neck, he willed himself to calm down. “Baby, we should stop.”

You responded by pushing your hips up against him, and he bit back a curse. He was fully hard now and stopping was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew it was the right thing. Jungkook braced his weight on his forearms and took a breath as he stared down at you.

“But I want you to stay,” you said, threading your fingers in his hair. Your eyes seemed much darker in the dim light of the bedroom. Your small hands drifted down to his shoulders, kneading, and then moved further down to toy with the hem of his shirt.

Jungkook closed his eyes and took another deep breath, the light fragrance of your perfume doing nothing to help him regain control. As much as he wanted you – had wanted you from the first night he kissed you - he didn’t want your first time together to be after a night of drinking. If there was even the slightest chance that you might regret it later, it wasn’t worth it.

He gave in one last time, kissing the spot beneath your ear that always made you shiver. He darted his tongue out to taste you and then captured your lips for one more long, slow kiss. “Not tonight.”

You didn’t argue anymore, allowing him to pull away. You were quiet as you got up and took some clothes from the dresser before going to the bathroom to change. When you returned, your face was clean, and you wore the usual pajama pants and t-shirt you preferred to sleep in. You didn’t say anything as you slipped past him to crawl back into bed and pull the covers up.

“You’re sure you feel okay?” he asked.

You nodded, your eyes already closed. “I’m just tired.”

He brushed his hand over your hair and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’ll lock up on my way out. I’ll give you the key back tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment. Something seemed off somehow. Awkward, maybe. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He turned off the light and let himself out, making sure to lock the door behind him.

[jenetica]

A Brief Note from Our Sponsors: Us.

Greetings! If you’re here, it’s likely that you have questions or complaints about our decisions regarding the Calendar Girls series. An ominous start to this discussion, but truly, we welcome you! If you’re here, it means you have been emotionally impacted by our work and, even though this context isn’t the cheeriest, we are so, so grateful you (1) enjoyed our work enough to care about it, and (2) want to develop a better understanding of our process so that you can engage with Calendar Girl more.

First of all, we understand why you’d be upset with us! The cliffhanger at the end of AotM was a DOOZY and leaves a LOT of important questions unanswered, and we left you readers hanging for a LONG time. This post will, hopefully, assuage the worst of your fears without giving away too many plot points.

That being said, please note that there WILL be spoilers ahead. If you want to see the story unfold as we intended, do NOT read this post further. We will tell you now that the post addresses the Deadpool’s identity, our decisions regarding the construction of AotM and the final cliffhanger, our decisions regarding developing the sequel as a prequel, and our plans for future installments. And, naturally, the accusations of “queerbaiting.”

Let’s get started.

QUEERBAITING

It makes sense to open with the most serious issue, so let’s talk about queerbaiting. For anyone here who doesn’t know, queerbaiting is defined as the purposeful insinuation of a homosexual/queer relationship, only to backtrack/subvert that insinuation to avoid the queer relationship. For an example, see: Supernatural from Season 4 and on. 

We have received accusations of queerbaiting for about four years, based exclusively on the reveal at the end of the final chapter. Similarly, we have received complaints that we duped readers into reading hetfic. So, to get things out of the way, yes, Deadpool is Gwen. No, it’s not a trick of the light, or a mistake, or some odd resemblance. They are one and the same. HOWEVER, that does NOT mean that we have queerbaited anyone.

First of all, the tags of the story are honest, and they always have been. AotM is tagged as a “Multi” fic, meaning that there are relationships of multiple orientations involved, and it is tagged with Peter/Gwen as well as Peter/Wade. Careless Whisper is tagged as F/M. We have never suggested or implied that the story would exclusively be slash fiction. We actually left multiple hints that Wade enjoyed femininity, at least as a practice, if not an identity. iFlail and I discussed this issue at length as we wrote/edited AotM and carefully crafted the story with queerbaiting in mind. 

Peter is an unreliable narrator, he always has been, and he always will be. In AotM, Peter assumes Wade is a man and thus, for the purposes of the narrative, Wade is one. The truth, however, is less clean than that. We won’t get into the details here, but safe to say, gender is not binary, it is not permanent, and it is not inexorably linked to one’s biology. Wade has a complicated history and a complicated/unique sense of identity. We have always intended for him to be that way, just as we always intended for him to be notably, pointedly smaller than Peter. 

The accusations of queerbaiting and/or conning readers into reading “het” fic are exclusionary of the greater conversation of gender identity. It was, frankly, disheartening to see so many people assume heterosexuality based exclusively on the last word of AotM. We hope that our work will challenge readers to be more mindful of the expansive world of gender, and to avoid assuming that a specific kind of pairing might involve specific kinds of body parts.

If you have any questions or reservations about our queerbaiting at this point, you are either welcome to keep reading future installments of this work to learn more, or you are welcome to stop altogether. The choice is yours. 

CONSTRUCTING THE STORY ARC - PRESENT, PAST, AND FUTURE

With that hot-button topic out of the way, let’s talk about the greater concept of ending a story of a cliffhanger, our thoughts behind building this series, and our goals for future installments. 

The second part of the Calendar Girl series, Careless Whisper, was written first, and it comes first chronologically. I (Jenetica) initially worked on the story by myself, as an exploration into the concept of “Gwen becoming Deadpool” to see how it might play out. I ended up writing a story I loved, so I moved onto the next part of the story, set four years later. This ended up becoming Angel of the Morning. 

@iflailfic, a good IRL friend of mine from college, came onboard (after I wooed her with several stories worth of porn, as you can see through a jaunt through my posted works) to help me edit. She fell in love with AotM and, as we worked on first draft edits, she floated the idea of AotM coming before Careless Whisper. Honestly, I rejected the idea at first (not sure if she actually knows/remembers that part, lol), because I couldn’t fathom how we would be able to link the parts of the story together. But, eventually, I began to realize her point: AotM introduces our protagonists, develops the “current” world for the series, and has a more dynamic/engaging plot. 

The cliffhanger was a joke at first. My idea. I think my exact words were something like, “LOLOL what if we just ended on ‘GWEN?’ OMG IMAGINE hahahahaha.” But, as we continued to edit… it became the perfect way to end things. Anything that came after that point felt like trash. If we’d expanded any further, we ran the risk of falling headfirst into Part 3 and doubling the size of AotM. Let’s be real, the ending is, all waiting aside, an absolute nuclear bomb on the rest of the story. 

We talked about the likelihood of enraged readers. But we rationalized it by telling each other/ourselves that we had Careless Whisper written, so the wait wouldn’t be too killer.

Best laid plans.

I (Jenetica) take full responsibility for the time it took to start posting again. Over the last four years, I have gone through a number of experiences that challenged my sense of self and pushed me to become a different person, including moving halfway across the country, attending a relatively prestigious law school where I was no longer “the smart kid in the room,” and losing the relationship that I later learned was toxic and abusive. I lost my confidence in a number of ways, including my confidence as a writer. I became terrified that I would never produce anything that lived up to AotM, and that I would disappoint the many (many!) readers demanding answers. Luckily for me, through that adversity I found rewarding friendships, a beautiful partner who treats me the way I’d always fantasized/written about people like me getting treated, and an engaging career that leaves me with enough energy to write. My experiences are mirrored by iFlail, who went through a different, but similarly life-changing, series of events. But through this all, we never lost hope in this story, and we always planned to complete the series. We are wiser, stronger people now, and we both believe that the story will be richer for it. 

Which brings us to now, and our plans for the future. We do NOT intend to wait another four years to post X Gon’ Give It To Ya, the third and final installment of the series. We have spent countless hours brainstorming the plot, and all that’s really left to do is put it to paper. But, for people who are afraid of being burned twice, we will warn you now that Careless Whisper is JUST a prequel. If you want to know what happens after the “Gwen?” reveal, you will not get any answers until XGGITY (which I have, as of just now, decided to pronounce as “Ziggity”). We hope you stick around to watch Careless Whisper unfold, but we will understand if you want to wait until XGGITY to start reading again.

IN CONCLUSION - FINAL THOUGHTS

The Calendar Girl series has received more attention than we’d ever dreamed, and regardless of whether you liked or disliked our work, we want to thank you for taking the time to read it. If you made it to the end of AotM, we did something right, and again, we are so grateful that so many people have stuck with us this far.

We encourage everyone, moving forward, to keep a close eye on the tags that we use for our stories. We may not tag everything relevant, for the sake of preserving mystery about the plot, but we will be sure to tag everything that may be triggering or concerning, like self-harm, violence, or expected brand of romantic/sexual interactions. We will be adding this warning to the beginning of each story in the series.

Additionally, we want to acknowledge that there is a stark difference between legitimate concerns about the story and unfounded attacks on our character. Our decision to make this post is our attempt to dissuade the latter: We are not queerbaiting, and we have no interest in “forcing” people to read content that is not to their taste. However, that doesn’t mean that our execution of AotM, Careless Whisper, and/or XGGITY will be beyond reproach. The conversation on gender politics has evolved tremendously over the years that we’ve been working on this series, and it will undoubtedly continue to evolve as we progress into the future. We encourage constructive (!!!) criticism and open conversation on ways that we can improve our story, even if it involves tweaking published work to avoid mishandling deeply personal issues.

That said, if, after reading this post, you are still upset and/or unconvinced about our intentions for this series, we encourage you to stop reading it. We are not compensated for this work, and we have spent hundreds (probably thousands, by now) of hours striving to make the Calendar Girl series the best that it can be, for our own benefit. We believe that it may be the best fanfiction we will ever produce, and our satisfaction with our work is our priority. We will continue to post with that priority at the forefront, and with the demands of our reader base playing second fiddle. Similarly, we expect our readers to prioritize their needs above all others. We ask for your patience and your kindness moving forward and, if you cannot give us that, you are welcome to close the tab and move on with your life to other ventures that suit your interests better.

For those of you that choose to stay: You are in for a hell of a ride. We are both anxious to get through Careless Whisper, because we are both SO excited to share XGGITY with you. We believe it’s going to knock your socks off. We hope to see you there. 

Thanks, everyone, and happy reading!

[olivieblake]

Sorry I haven't detailed my Friendship breakup ask earlier, managing life is taking too much time these days!

It's a bit hard to summarise but I have been soulmate-type friends with this girl, K, for three and a half years and really good friend with this guy, R, for two and a half. We all work together and our triangle friendship worked well. K and R fooled around a few times after parties, K developed feelings, R didn't and thought it was a friends with benefits thing while K hoped it would become more but it never did. Big problem was the lack of communication between them, both thought the other knew what they wanted but we know that things don't work this way.

I've been there for all of it, particularly for K who had been hurt by the lack of emotional intelligence R indeed displayed along the way. But I also felt, and I think R knew it herself, that she had been getting her hopes up almost all along and was setting herself for heartbreak, but life needs to be lived and sometimes we make mistakes just so that we can learn from them and K and I talked a lot about that, as I was myself getting entangled with another colleague.

Fast forward to last November, where, after months of horrible things piling up 2020 style, R and I spent an evening together watching movies, eating pizzas, drinking English cider and talking about how fucking sad we all were and fuck 2020 and family members dying of cancer way too fast, both in his and my family, and work being hell because the government is doing shit for making schools safe and everything going wrong all the time. At some point during the night there was a moment when I felt that R was offering more than just sleeping together in the same bed and I had a moment of hesitation but decided to not give in to it and to the the confort it might bring us both, mainly because I was sure it would hurt K if she ever heard about it. So we just slept, read books in the morning while drinking tea and there was no awkwardness because we both knew that it came from the fact that we trust each other enough to ask for comfort and even if it would have been a possibly stupid way to get it, it might have made us feel better in the moment. (even though we both think we'd have burst into tears 30 seconds in and not done it in the end)

I wondered whether I should tell K or not and decided to do it because nothing had happened, really, and if I didn't tell her when we told each other most things, that's when it'd have become suspicious and dishonest. So I told her that there had been a weird moment between R and I, that nothing had happened in the end, not in the best way in retrospect because it felt too casual to her, confirmed that had it happened it would have been weird for her and thought that was that since the next few days went fine. But at the end of that week she sent me an audio, saying that if I had feelings for R, I had a lot of time to tell her, that she needed people she could trust and who respected her in her life and that we weren't friends anymore. And that was it. Since then, she has refused to have a conversation to clear things up and has avoided me several weeks but has kept talking to R as usual.

I should have told her in a different way and I understand why she felt hurt imagining that R and I had spent a night of passion together but I told her, and then explained more clearly, that nothing had actually happened, that I wasn't into R and he wasn't into me, we were just both very sad and a bit too drunk.

The thing is, he's not hers, they haven't been in a relationship, he's not her ex either. Even if we had slept together, it wouldn't have had anything to do with her; people don't belong to people. But what's really hard is that we've been really good friends for several years and she was so quick to assume I would be cruel to her on purpose and that her feelings didn't matter to me when we've been there for each other a lot. And that putting an end to our friendship via WhatsApp was apparently so easy to do. (I don't really think it was, but it sure feels like it.)

And I've been asking other friends' opinions to see how in the wrong I was really, since maybe I couldn't see the situation clearly enough from my position, and the general consensus is that since I didn't do anything with him and was honest with her right after the nothing happened, she's being a bit extreme when the only actual thing she could reasonably resent me for is the way I told her. We're adults, we should be able to at least talk about it but I've offered several times and she says she doesn't need to or want to. But we're in the same friend group, we're supposed to spend time all together at some point and us not talking has an effect on the whole group dynamics, not just on us, and my awful need to make sure everything is balanced for everyone is going crazy.

It's been a long few months and my already sad and stressed out brain is having a hard time dealing with it and I hate that we're in this situation for something as futile as boy problems. I think there are issues of jealousy and self-confidence that stem from something else and that she's projecting it all onto this but it still sucks a lot, especially since she's refusing to talk about anything, even if we're at least back to saying hello and she has stopped fleeing every room I am in.

Anyways, friendship breakups suck, they can be as stupid as romantic breakups, and 2021 has better be nicer too everyone than 2020! Sorry for the novel-lenghth ask/story, my life is a succession of ridiculous plot points.

I hope you and Baby and Mr. Blake are doing well in these weird, weird times and I've started your book and I have loved your last video, especially the part on jealousy/possesiveness which was really well-put, as usual! Oh and thank you so, so much for your book recs on my last ask, I've added them to my To read-list <3

Okay, Love you, bye!

I feel like my last ask was a little bit too detailed to give a general answer/launch a large topic so I'm guessing it's mainly about how to deal with a lack of closure when people end things without the possibility to talk and get/give explanations. And I guess it goes for romantic relationships as well as friendships.

Love your big sistering, love you !

WELL I actually did not get this ask until a few hours after I had filmed this week’s video so not to worry lol I wasn’t able to address this specifically. but I think that’s the thing about the generality of grief over losing a friend—we don’t necessarily have to know the specifics of your story to understand it’s something we probably all relate to. and in this case I most certainly relate! I think this is one of those things where your friend had some personal things to work on and it put you in a difficult position, wherein you made the most logical choice. that’s the problem: you are looking logically at what is for her an emotionally fraught situation about her self-worth and your loyalty, which is why the math on your end isn’t adding up. (for the record I am much more likely to be in your position than hers; she sounds like a water sign but WHO’S TO SAy)

anyway, I don’t think you’re in this position over boy problems. a boy appears to be the subject yes but in fact he is the object; the subject is your friend’s feelings about herself and your—forgive me, but your compulsion to force her to get over it. I may not be completely right about that, but it does appear to me that you could have said nothing about the “nothing” that happened but chose not to because, ultimately, part of you wanted her to know. I don’t think this is sinister of you; I have a lot of friends who really need to just get over it as a general rule and sometimes it does feel like shocking them into it with new information might do the trick. but I think most likely she feels or intuits that in some way, and I suspect the root of her anger isn’t really about him but the “betrayal” she feels from you: that in that moment, you weren’t thinking about her* despite the fact that you would probably have known she would hurt if you had been (I’m sure you did know this to be true, and in my opinion are rationalizing your part in it; which is fine because you’re the main character in your life and not hers, but it is what it is) and of course she’s thinking about her, so what seems like a lot of pain on her end that she has no healthy method of dealing with is straining your relationship. I hope she can bring herself to deal with it, but she has a lot of work to do on herself before she can reach the pinnacle of what’s really bothering her. until then, it’s easier to blame you.

* edited to add: I know you said that you decided not to move forward sexually because of her, but I think what actually hurts her is not the possibility of sex, but the intimacy you had with him in that moment, which even you know is something she craved; perhaps delusionally. you don’t have to acknowledge whether this is a reasonable thing to be upset by, but I think the entirety of the situation is probably hitting her much differently than it hits you.

anyway my answer was not about this situation specifically but about why friendship breakups hurt so much, and I don’t think knowing the situation changes my answer. I hope it does help, because I think there is some part of this that is always true: one person needs to do something on their own before the friendship can be repaired, and it may not have been a problem at all if not for an issue of very specific timing. but trust me, whether this specific thing had happened or not this would still be true about the two of you, and about the ways your personal dogmas differ, and perhaps it’s better to see if she can take this leap now. maybe she will grow from it; maybe she won’t. either way, this is the part-grief, part-guilt formula I’m talking about, where sometimes you have to admit the breaking point happened, whether it could have gone differently or not, and now it’s out of your control

but I hope it helps to talk about!

[luminous-studiess]

Seeing as you mentioned in one of your last posts that you’ve learnt how to study in the pas semester, I was wondering if you could share with us your tips & tricks, please? I love your blog ❤️

hi!!!!! first of all, thank you so much for the kind words. it always helps when i hear that people like my content, and it’s nice to know when people on studyblr reach out and motivate each other. i hope you’re doing well as well!i guess i have to preface this with the fact that studying in undergrad is very different from studying in law school. also, studying in different undergraduate courses constitutes very different studying styles as well. for me, i took literature, so it was a lot of writing papers and not much memory work. in law school, there was a LOT of memory work. i did really badly for several months because i wasn’t used to studying for those kinds of exams. i may make posts if anyone’s interested on how to study specifically for literature or law classes, but for now, these are general tips on how to study.this is a long-ass post, so my apologies!

HOW TO STUDY!!!!!!! A HUGE GENERAL GUIDE FROM SAM FROM LUMINOUS STUDIES, AFTER ~7 YEARS OF HOMESCHOOLING, 4 YEARS OF UNDERGRAD (AND A MAGNA CUM LAUDE) AND ONE TERRIFYING SEMESTER OF LAW SCHOOL. 

FIRST THINGS FIRST: general tips, some life advice, preparation

- actual intelligence matters very little in school. some people learn faster, some take a little more time. being smart in itself does not matter when you don’t work. actual hard work can compensate for a less retentive memory (as i’ve found out over the semester). discipline and a lot of hard work always pay off, even if it seems rocky at first. make the resolve to dedicate a set amount of time to study everyday, even if it’s just an hour or so. a little is better than nothing. - my constitutional law professor (aka my favorite professor) advised one of my classmates to log her work hours. while it seems tempting to set a specific timeslot to get things done, sometimes life gets in the way, and you don’t actually get to work at 3 pm. maybe most of the time you sit at 3 pm is spent fiddling on your phone. to actually track productivity and consistency, time the hours you actively spend studying. put away all your distractions. personally, i like the forest app because it forces me to stay away from social media and lets me use the pomodoro method. on good study days, i get to log my work time in batches of 25 minutes. again, it can be the amount of hours you put in, but what matters is the quality of work you put in. stay consistent. i promise you. it helps- on the study environment: sometimes studyblr convinces you that you need a coffeeshop, an aesthetic library, a beautiful italian garden to get things done. that would be ideal, but most of us don’t have access to that. i suggest you evaluate if you work better in public spaces with a little sound ambience, to hold yourself accountable (coffeeshops, the school library, with friends), or in private, quiet spaces. once you know where you work best, know what keeps you focused. is it tea? a glass of iced coffee? a lofi playlist? a podcast? i find that process a little fun because it keeps the study process a little less dull and uncomfortable, as it often can be. don’t forget to keep it pleasant/rewarding, but note that overindulgence can distract you. trust me, i know this from experience.- study materials: are what you want and what you need. you don’t need anything fancy. personally, i need many colored pens and highlighters because i have a color-coding system for cases and provisions, but for undergrad, my best weapons were just a black ballpen and a nice mildliner. it’s preferential, and just see what works for you. - on study anxiety: i have mental health issues. i’ve been seeing a psychiatrist (and lately a therapist) for depression and anxiety, and it used to be really, really bad, to the point i couldn’t start. i think the best place to start is to find that kind of help if you really have bad mental health. but if it’s the kind of anxiety that stems from being worried that things won’t turn out well, or that there’s too much to do, it’s always best to start, and to remember that even a little, or something imperfect, is still progress. try it for 5 minutes. if you still can’t do it, rest. but sometimes we just need a little push. other things that really calm my anxiety are a good baroque playlist (check out baroque lute/jordi savali’s the celtic viol/bach’s goldberg variations on spotify!!!), jazz, or lofi, and lavender room spray. i also like to use gifs which help you with breathing techniques. you can find them all over tumblr and twitter. it’s also really helpful to ask others for help when you feel stuck. i’ve asked professors for a little consideration and classmates for advice and clarifications when i’m confused. reaching out to other people is often a great way to start the learning process. 

- scheduling: i find it hard to keep on top of things, so i’m really thankful to the classmate who added me to a google calendar with all the class assignments. i think it’s a great system for knowing what the assignments are, so google calendar is your friend. for daily tasks, bullet journals help keep me accountable. i have a really simple one. quick and dirty. ACTUALLY STUDYING: methods, tricks, tips- consider the subject. different classes require different methods. some classes like math and chemistry – which, disclaimer, i have very little experience with – require practice problems. for literature classes, this requires much free analysis, annotations, research, and your own interpretations. other classes like history and geology require the memorization of topics. consider what information you need to learn, and how you want to approach it.- TAKE NOTES DURING THE LECTURE. i can’t stress this enough. if the teacher or professor mentions it, it’s probably important. nowadays, for major classes, i mark the topic on the syllabus with a special-colored highlighter that i won’t use for anything else so i know it’s crucial and will probably turn up on an exam. note: if they place special emphasis on a bit of information because it probably WILL turn up during the exam. one of my professors mentioned that a case would probably turn up during the philippine bar exam and guess what. it did. listen to the professor, don’t goof around on twitter (me to my undergraduate self, tbh), take good notes. make the notes into a reviewer during exam season. pass the class.- pre-studying helps. this is mandatory in law school, because mostly, you go to class to regurgitate what you’ve studied (or didn’t study) on your own from the syllabus. for undergrad, however, it helps to give yourself a background on the material so you can engage in the class, and take notes more efficiently. also, as much as possible, do the required reading. you’ll probably do it in one night anyway before the exam, so at least spread your work out and do a reasonable amount weekly.- on that note: if you’re going to rush through the syllabus and do “a semester’s worth of info” in one night (yes we’ve all seen Those Memes) anyway, it will be less of a pain in the ass to actually do the work slowly and consistently every week. trust me. this comes from a procrastinator who’s getting bitten in the ass, so please learn this as early as you can. it saves you a lot of pain later on.- THE CLASS SYLLABUS IS YOUR BIBLE. it’s all there. before classes, go through it. keep it with you during class and annotate it if you have to. some of my friends like to space the syllabus out on a document file so they use the headings for note-making. the syllabus will be your friend during review season.- always learn actively. if you don’t know a word or term, it will always help to google. make notes in the margins. make flashcards so you state information and retrieve it instead of just recognizing it. form study groups. rewrite your notes. engage with what you’re learning and it becomes so much more interesting, and so much easier. - set a time to unwind religiously. breaks are so important to avoid burnout. i like friday nights for unwinding, family dinners, reading, watching series. please rest. REVIEW SEASON: HOW TO COPE. HOW TO PASS. HOW TO CRY AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE. - exams are scary. i used to enjoy them, until law school, where i’ve been beaten up thoroughly by every exam. but strangely enough, this is where i only learned how to actually study for an exam with huge blocks of information. i realized that this method really helps for undergrad, and probably will get you honors if you stick to a similarly solid method. - study as early as you can. once you know when the exam is, make a study plan. two weeks is a good minimum. sometimes, there are professors and teachers who announce only a week before, which is unavoidable, so honestly. just make a plan. i tend to assign a set number of syllabus pages to cover/study for on each day so i have time to do a second reading/quizzing. - HOW TO REVIEW: remember the class notes? remember the syllabus? those will help you cover everything you need once you schedule. the syllabus is your map for what you need to cover. assume that everything in the syllabus is something you need to go over at least once, so assign a set number of pages/topics per day. the class notes are your guide on what to focus on. note the special topics which have been emphasized by the lecturer. it also helps if you know what parts you’re very unsure about, so you know what to work on again when you have extra time. i tend to make reviewers out of my class notes, which also helps to retain info, because i go over it again. make time to re-read and quiz yourself. - blanking out on exam day? i can honestly assure you that it’s probably because you didn’t sleep enough. you’ve studied the information, but sleep deprivation either makes you fall asleep during the exam (which has happened) or forget what you learned (which has also happened). if you’ve made the time to repeat what you’ve needed to learn, the studying isn’t the problem. i make a rule to try and avoid all-nighters when necessary because sleep is integral in helping you retain information. when i need extra time to study, i go to bed early, and wake up around 3 or 4 am to study some more. it really helps.DEALING WITH FAILURE: - my professor (a huge businessman, constitutionalist, overall a very successful person) told me that he would not get where he is now if he hadn’t failed. failure is growth because you know you’re doing something. the only true “failure” is when you stop trying. some days are hard, some days don’t yield the results even when you work hard. it’s okay. be gentle on yourself. you are still growing.- sometimes i think about the fact that “gifted child syndrome” aka burnout and perfectionism stem from how many smart kids are often praised for their intelligence and not their work ethic. so when they do badly later in life, they think it’s because they weren’t “smart enough” and give up easily. i think much of doing anything entails a lot of embarrassment, a lot of hard work, and lots of failure. it’s so hard to put up with, and it can often be depressing and unhealthy and put you in a bad place. sometimes we need to talk to someone professional, if it gets to that point. but sometimes, it also helps to realize that a little hard work will help us to get where we want to be. - ask for help. i talk to my friends, my parents, and my professors when i’m stuck. it really helps.ok, whew. i know there’s so much more about studying. but i hope this helps for now. please let me know if you guys want more specific study guides. good luck, loves! you got this.– sam 

[undermounts]

Bound—Chapter 15: Borrowed Time

AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: And so the plot thickens

Pairing: Gaius Augustine/Diana Leigh (BB MC)

                                   Zermatt, Switzerland, 2042

After leaving the restaurant, Diana and Gaius strolled down the pedestrian streets of Zermatt, peeking their heads into small shops and bakeries as they went. Most stores were starting to close, leaving little to do besides wander, but Diana wasn’t quite ready to head back to the hotel. She knew better than to take any moments of peace and quiet for granted and wanted to see as much of Zermatt before they were either found or had to leave again.

But more than that, there was a feeling in her gut that subtly urged her to stay out just a little while longer, to idle down yet another sidestreet. She had not yet decided if it was wanderlust,  intuition, or something else.

“Tell me something,” Diana said as they turned around another corner onto another avenue bordered by immaculate buildings of stone and wood. “Anything.”

This had become their thing, ever since that day in the barn. “Tell me something,” one of them would request. Not for the sake of conversation or to banish the silence that fell between them, but to swap little pieces of themselves. To share not because they had to, but because they wanted to. Diana knew that with the bond, she could easily learn whatever she wanted about Gaius and he could do the same. But there was something different about talking like this, about taking their time when there was an eternity stretched out before them. There was nothing that said fate had to be the only thing that bound them.

Gaius pursed his lips, his hands in his pockets as he glanced thoughtfully at the star-flecked sky. After a long moment passed, he finally spoke, his voice distant. “When I was a child and I couldn’t sleep, my mother would take me down to the beach. We would sit below the docks, watching ships come and go for hours, counting them. I was always looking for something…” Gaius’s brow pinched as if he were trying hard to recollect the memories. 

“My father…” he murmured at last, wonder coloring his voice. “He was… a sailor. I was always looking for him, trying to find the boat I last saw him leave on, exhausting myself until I fell asleep. Every morning, I woke up back in our home, safely tucked beneath my mother’s arm.” He shook his head. “I still don’t know how she managed to carry me back up all of those steps every time.”

Diana wanted to brush her thumb over his brow and wipe away the crease that had formed there. There was an odd look in his eyes, despondent and confused all at once, as if he was mourning something but didn’t know what or why.

“I’ve never heard you talk about your life before being Turned,” Diana said softly. “Just that one time on the island about Ariadne.” His wife.

It was so easy for Diana to forget how long Gaius had been alive, and even easier forget how much living could happen in three thousand years, regardless of whether or not he had really been himself. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that he had once been married—even if he had only been a young man at the time and it lasted barely six months. After all, Adrian had been married. He had even had a son. But somehow, that had been easier to rationalize than this. Perhaps it was because it was more fitting of his identity and the loss of them had shaped his life after being Turned. Regardless, Diana realized once again that there were aspects of Gaius’s life she still didn’t know and probably more things that she could not even begin to comprehend.

“I still don’t remember most of it,” Gaius admitted with a frown, his eyes downcast. “I know that Rheya made me forget many things, but perhaps I have just lived too long to remember anymore.”

“I could try to help you recover some of those memories,” Diana offered. She couldn’t imagine being unable to remember her own family. Growing up, they were practically all she had. If she forgot them, she would have almost nothing left of her old life. 

Gaius opened his mouth, then hesitated and closed it, shaking his head. “I appreciate the offer, Diana. Perhaps one day, but I don’t think I could…” His mouth twisted as he sought out the words he was looking for. “Not right now. I’m still trying to figure out what I am now. To learn more about the man I once was… I don’t know what that will do.”

Diana nodded. He had told her once years ago that without Rheya’s influence, he wasn’t sure where he stood. I was one man. Then Rheya changed me into something else. Now that change is undone. Am I that first man? The second? Something else entirely?

“Well, whenever you decide that you do want to learn more, I’ll help you,” Diana promised and he met her gaze. “And for what it’s worth,” she added, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Most people don’t know who they are. Sometimes I don’t even know either. But when you think you’ve got it figured out, no matter how long it takes or how temporary it is, I’ll still be here.”

Gaius smiled softly and reached out, squeezing her hand. “Thank you, Diana.”

“Of course,” she replied, lacing her fingers with his before he could think to pull away. 

It was easy to be with him in the comfort of their room, where they could pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. Being out in the streets of Zermatt was a small step up. They were still relatively isolated in this alpine village, geographically and socially, but taking that step outside made everything a bit more real. Several times tonight, Diana found herself wondering what would become of them and what sort of ramifications this might have when they left, because surely, there would be. Not only because she would have to tell the others what transpired if this continued, but her life had a habit of being unnecessarily complicated. 

“What do you remember about your mother?” Diana asked, bumping his shoulder with hers. His expression seemed to lighten, indicating this was not such a heavy topic.

“She was strong,” Gaius began, his fingers tightening around hers. “Kind. She always knew just the right thing to say, to me and to everyone else. We didn’t have much sometimes, but she always gave to people in need.” He glanced sidelong at Diana. “You kind of remind me of her. The pieces I remember, anyway.”

Diana felt a comforting warmth spread throughout her body, shielding her from the evening’s chilly air. She tilted her head up, studying his face. “What did she look like?”

How much of him was his mother? How much, his father? If she knew what his parents had looked like, could she discern which features he inherited from each?

His eyes were trained on some point in the distance, focused once again although his expression was untroubled. “I have her eyes. Her skin was fair in the rainy seasons, but golden in the summer. Her hair, however, was always black as pitch, no matter how many hours we spent in the sun. High cheekbones, the corners of her eyes creased from smiling.”

“She sounds lovely,” Diana said, deciding that aside from the hair, Gaius must look a lot like his mother. 

He nodded. “I don’t know how my father managed to part with her every time he had to leave. But I’ve been told that the call of the ocean is rather irresistible for the seafaring folk.” He huffed, a slight edge to his voice. “They are beside themselves with longing and exhaustion when they are away but miserable and restless when they are home.”

“I suppose I could see where they’re coming from,” Diana conceded after a moment of thought, gazing past the mountains that bordered the village. 

“Is that so?” Gaius raised a brow, tilting his head. “I didn’t know you had an affinity for the sea.”

“I always have,” Diana shrugged. “I used to wonder how surfers could throw themselves into the ocean and attempt to ride the waves. It would be so easy to wipe out, to get pulled into the undertow and drown. They get beaten around so much, and yet, they keep going back to chase that perfect ride. And I wondered why they did that. Why they would take the risk.”

Diana was aware of Gaius’s eyes intently trained on her face as she went on, still working out her thoughts on the matter as she shared them. “But I guess the risk is part of the appeal. Knowing that you’re in the middle of something so incomprehensibly vast and powerful. Knowing that you’re so insignificant and could easily be snuffed out at a moment’s notice. There’s a sort of thrill that comes with challenging that kind of power, of coexisting with it.”

Gaius worked his jaw, gaze thoughtful as he considered her point of view. “That is very fitting of you to say.”

Diana’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

He raised an eyebrow as if he was surprised she didn’t see what he did. “What you just described—the surfers. They sound a lot like you. Running with deadly beings that could have just as easily killed you as welcomed you. Going toe-to-toe with powers you can’t even comprehend. Even as a mortal, you challenged me, knowing it could be suicide. It’s as if you like being in mortal peril, too.”

Diana chewed her lip, mulling that over. She had never thought about it that way, but from his point of view, it made perfect sense. “Maybe I did once,” she relented, absently tugging on a strand of her hair. 

“But not now?”

“No,” she decided, sighing. She watched as her breath clouded before her and slowly dissipated on the wind before continuing on. “Sometimes I crave action. The adrenaline. The opportunity to let go, just for a little bit. But not like this, whatever mystery we’re in right now,” she waved her hand at their surroundings. “I’m okay with a little fighting, especially if I’m doing it to protect people. But right now, I just want peace. I’m sick of other people’s lives being at stake. I can’t help but feel like their fate rests in my hands.”

“Diana…”

“Yes, I have Rheya’s powers,” she continued, her throat tightening and cheeks heating with frustration. “But does that really make me qualified to have this much responsibility? My hands are just as stained with sin as anyone else’s. Who’s to say if I will be able to stop Demetrius’s influence and not fall to it?”

“I think you are capable of more good and restraint than you believe, which is why you are  a perfect fit. Not just because you have her powers,” Gaius murmured, his gaze roaming across the buildings around them. “I just wish you didn’t think that you were alone in this. If you slip up, someone else will catch you.”

Diana knew he was trying to be comforting and that his logic was sound. But the idea of having others get involved on her behalf—especially if it was because she failed—wasn’t as reassuring as it was meant to be.

They continued for a little while, observing as other people trickled through the streets, slowly retreating to their homes in search of rest and shelter from the cooling night. As the town collectively fell into silence, they came upon a steepled church of gray and white stone. It towered over them, an ancient place that spoke of refuge and repentance but only seemed hollow and forlorn in its emptiness.

Diana stared up at the belltower, watching as gilded arms slowly rotated around the structure’s clock face, and couldn’t help but feel as if it was counting down the seconds until their time here was up, reminding her that the sanctuary she found was only temporary.

“I wish that I could give you the peace you deserve, Diana,” Gaius said softly beside her, his breath turning to mist in front of them.

Diana’s chest caved and she turned to him, tenderly pushing his hair away from his face and fitting her palm against his cheek, his skin cool from the night air. She spoke honestly, pouring her heart into her words. “This is enough for me, Gaius. You are enough and more.”

Unable to bear the anguish that would most certainly cross his features in response, Diana closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly, sweetly. His arms came up around her, his touch at once tentative and grounding. She let herself lean into his embrace for a little while longer, touching her forehead to his briefly before drawing away, contenting herself with simply holding his hand for now.

Eventually, they drew away from the church, leaving the solemn air behind. As they meandered back to their hotel, Diana picked up a bag of baked goods from a closing café, taking with her the scent of roasted coffee and nutmeg. Before they turned onto the final street that led them back to the lodge, Diana felt a slight presence brush against her mind and caught movement on her peripheral.

She stilled, pulling Gaius to a halt as she turned, her eyes settling on a small antique store on the corner of the block. Inside, an elderly man slowly bustled around a glass display case tucking only the valuable items into a separate box for safekeeping. Diana watched the man as he set about his tasks with great care, not because he dealt with fragile objects but because he clearly cared about what he did and possessed. 

She was momentarily struck by how normal life could still go on despite how things changed around them. That would have been her in merely thirty years, not necessarily owning an antique shop, but growing old and hopefully doing what she loved. She had told Gaius that she had long since made peace with her lost life, but sometimes she couldn’t help but feel a little sorrowful as she watched the people she grew up with age and move on while she stayed the same.

Gaius squeezed her hand, the gesture comforting as if he knew what she had been thinking. She supposed he probably did. Diana was about to let her lead him away when her gaze caught on something that glinted in the storefront window among other knick knacks. Her breath caught and she tightened her grip on Gaius’s hand. 

“Look,” she breathed and he followed her line of sight. The knife.

It almost looked just as it had in her dreams, with its long curved blade and hilt of bone, although it was significantly tarnished, the handle blackened in some parts as if someone had tossed it into a fire. It’s presence was faint, muted, as if there was a damper on it. But why? To keep it hidden? And from whom?

She and Gaius shared a look before wordlessly deciding to approach the store. Diana pushed the door open, a bell chiming above the entryway as they stepped inside. The store was cramped full of shelves stocked with all sorts of odds and ends. An L-shaped counter stood against one wall, topped with glass display cases and an ancient cash register. It smelled faintly of pumpkin spice as if a candle had been burning not even an hour ago. “Hello? Are you still open? I hope it’s not too late.”

The old man looked up, thick eyebrows raised and pale blue eyes magnified by his thick glasses. His face split into a kind smile worn with laugh lines. “Oh no, come in, come in!” he said cheerfully in a thick German accent. “Have a look around! I still have time before I’m finished packing up. Don’t get many customers this time of year. Winter brings the snow crowd.”

“Actually,” Diana began, pulling Gaius with her further into the store as she waved towards the window. “I was interested in the knife you had on display.”

“That old thing?” He lifted a snowy brow, setting his box of valuables on the counter before hobbling over to the storefront.

“Yeah. I’ve, uh, got a friend at home who likes to collect knives,” Diana supplied, her eyes briefly flicking to Gaius as she let go of his hand and followed the man. “She asked me to bring her back a souvenir.”

The shopkeep paused, shaky hands outstretched towards the blade’s handle. He jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “Oh. Well in that case, I’ve got plenty of nicer knives in the back—”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Gaius cut in smoothly, stepping up to Diana’s side. “Our friend has a very particular taste. Bone hilts and whatnot. An odd collection, but to each his own, I suppose.”

“Right you are. “To each his own. Hmm….” The man squinted, casually plucking the blade off its display and turning it to find the tiny price tag that was attached to the hilt by a bit of yarn. “Ah, here we are. Says here it’s twenty francs,” he looked up, waving his hand nonchalantly. “But I’ll give it to you for fifteen, since it’s a bit burned and all. Found it in a box full of baubles at an estate sale a while back. ”

“Do you accept cards? Or US dollars?”

“Either’s fine,” he shrugged.

“Perfect.” Diana gave him an easy smile. “We’ll take it.”

The man nodded and they followed him to his counter where the decrepit register sat. Diana was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she handed him her card, relieved that she didn’t have to fight or kill anything for this. Yet. 

Inside her pocket, she crossed her fingers, just in case.

“Here you go,” the man said at last, handing her card back first, then the knife. “I would have wrapped it, but we’re all out of paper.”

“That’s alright. We appreciate it nonetheless,” Gaius assured him, taking the blade from his hands before Diana could reach for it. He tucked it into the inside of his coat and sent her a look that clearly said, You should not be touching this yet.

Diana sighed. That was fair.

They thanked the shopkeep again, bidding him a goodnight, and stepped out onto the street. Diana let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding when they left the store and nothing horrible befell them. She was even more surprised when they made it all the way back to the hotel room without any issues.

“That was… easy,” Diana frowned as she closed the door to their room behind her, then knocked on the wooden wall for good measure.

“Feels too easy.” Gaius’s brows were drawn together, clearly suspicious as he withdrew the blade and set it carefully on the table against the wall.

Slowly, Diana shook her head and came to stand beside him. As she spoke, she knew her words to be true. “No. I don’t think anyone knows what this is. The shopkeep included. Even I could barely detect it, and we’ve been in town for days. I had no idea this was here.”

Gaius’s frown only deepened and his eyes fell to the golden chain around Diana’s neck, the amulet hidden beneath her shirt. “It seems that the Compass knew where we needed to go before we even did.”

She raised her brows, her fingertips brushing the pendant through her clothing. “You think the amulet brought us here because of the blade? But how did it even know we needed it? Or where the knife was?”

“I don’t know, Diana,” Gaius admitted, running a hand through his hair. “All I know is that for some reason, you and these artifacts are connected. Perhaps the amulet knew what you needed when you established a blood link to it. Or perhaps the artifacts themselves know that they are meant to be used together for something.”

Diana pressed the heels of her hand against her eyes. “Christ.”

“As for how the amulet knew where the knife was,” Gaius continued. “I don’t think it did. Not precisely at least, just the general location. That’s why we ended up at the farm instead.”

“Well, how did it even know that it was in Switzerland?” Diana wondered aloud. She wasn’t sure why she was asking Gaius, but she had to admit he was pretty good about developing fairly sound explanations based on what few clues they had. He was a good fighter, yes, but an even better thinker. 

Gaius turning, leaning back against the table as he folded his arms, brows furrowed in thought. Diana could practically see his mind churning through possible explanations as he worked his jaw. When his eyes sharpened and filled with clarity not even a minute later, she knew he had fit the pieces together. “You said you had heard voices when you made contact with the Compass, yes?”

She tilted her head, sitting down on the foot of the bed. “Yeah…”

“Perhaps they knew,” Gaius mused and Diana was surprised that he was being completely serious.

“What?”

“It’s entirely possible that the reason it knew is because that amulet is bound to an entity of sorts. Something sentient,” Gaius explained.

“What, like a ghost?” Diana scoffed, rolling her eyes. Maybe she had jumped the gun a bit in assuming that Gaius could be trusted to always provide a rational explanation.

“No, not a ghost. Don’t be ridiculous.” His eyes narrowed at her. “Do you consider me to be a fool?”

“No, but I think you’re being a little absurd.” She shook her head, snickering to herself. “You are the last person I would ever expect to suggest my necklace is haunted.”

“That’s not what I’m—” Gaius was fully scowling now, his irritation stinging like a whip down the bond. “I’m not going to talk to you if you’re not going to take me seriously, Bloodkeeper.”

Bloodkeeper. Oh, he was not happy with her.

Diana forced the smirk off her face, holding her hands out, palms up to show that she was done mocking. “Sorry. But you have to admit it is a little crazy.”

He glared at her.

“Okay, fine. It’s not.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand. “Go on. I promise I’m listening.”

Gaius stared down his nose at her for a long moment before he took a deep breath and continued. “I don’t think the Compass is haunted. But perhaps it’s a bridge of sorts. I’ve heard of relics that could connect their user to wells of power. Locations like the forest in Bergen, magical creatures, and so on. When you establish a blood contact with the amulet, the amulet didn’t transport you—”

“It forged a connection to something powerful enough that could,” Diana finished, picking up on his line of thought and he nodded.

Okay, that was reasonable enough. After they made the jump from Copenhagen to the barn, Diana had doubted that even her blood was powerful enough to do something as insane as transport them hundreds of miles away from their starting point. But if it was only using her blood to connect her… perhaps that was possible.

“Well, that still leaves who or what the Compass connected me to,” Diana noted, her fingers anxiously tangling in the ends of her hair.

Gaius opened his mouth, then hesitated. Diana caught his expression and grimaced. “You have an idea, don’t you?”

He winced, eyes flicking to hers, then to a random spot on the wall behind her, his gaze hardening. “I think there’s a reason it’s called the Mercurian Compass.”

Diana blinked at him blankly, then put her head in her hands and groaned. “Have I mentioned that I am sick of this? Because I am sick of it.”

She heard Gaius let out a long-suffering sigh and a moment later, the bed depressed beside her. He squeezed her shoulder, pulling her to rest against his side. “I know, diviana.”

Diana buried her face into his shoulder, muffling her words as she spoke. “Why would a god get involved?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his breath stirring her hair. “Phampira gifted Rheya, so it’s not unprecedented.”

“Are Roman gods even… alive?” Diana’s brow furrowed. She still wasn’t even entirely sure she believed in gods. Now she had to consider that one of them was real and helping her?

“Roman, Greek, Egyptian… They’re all the same.” Gaius shifted up the bed, pulling her with him until they rested against the pillows. “It doesn’t matter what name they go by. Sometimes their attributes are swapped or condensed into fewer gods, but they’re all the same.”

“I really hate this,” Diana repeated, slinging her arm across his stomach and holding tight, as if she were drowning and he was her only lifeline left.

He kissed her temple. “I know.”

After several minutes had passed, Diana extracted herself from his embrace, combing her hair back as her gaze resettled on the blade resting on the table. “I should probably try to—”

Before Diana could even finish her thought, her phone rang. She sighed, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Her brows rose and she answered. “Kamilah?”

Gaius sat up behind her.

“Diana,” Kamilah said by way of greeting. Then her voice softened a fraction.“You sound tired.”

“Just...frustrated,” Diana shrugged, scooting back against the headboard and leaning against Gaius’s shoulder. 

“Still unraveling more mysteries?”

Diana huffed a laugh. “Something like that. Every question answered only leads to more questions.”

“Mm,” Kamilah merely replied and Diana could hear the hint of an amused smile in her voice. “Well, I’m calling you because I think I’ve figured out a way to contain Demetrius’s influence.”

Diana straightened and Gaius’s brow furrowed at her reaction. “You did? How?”

“Demetrius’s influence is synonymous with that of the Tree of Eternal Death, yes?” Kamilah asked, her voice calm and analytical.

“Yeah…”

“Well, the world needs balance, Diana,” Kamilah went on and Diana could distantly hear the click of Kamilah’s heels. She must have been going somewhere. “Good and bad, light and dark, life and death. You know how it goes.” There was a faint ding! She was getting into an elevator, then. “Well, twenty-three years ago, we upended that balance. Back on Mydiea, when we—”

Diana gasped, the realization dawning on her. She thought of an ancient cavern beneath the Order of Dawn compound, which was now barely more than a pile of rubble in the middle of the Mediterranean.“When we destroyed the Tree of Eternal Life.”

“Precisely,” Kamilah agreed and Diana could hear a note of pride in her voice. “For centuries, the Tree of Eternal Life and the Tree of Eternal Death kept each other in check, two sides of the same coin. One can’t exist without the other, not without consequence. And for twenty-three years, the Tree of Eternal Death’s power has grown without its equal to counter it. Now we are paying the price.”

“Can we stop it?” Diana asked, subconsciously clutching her silver lily pendant so hard, its edges cut into her palm.

“Theoretically, yes,” Kamilah declared and Diana almost sighed in relief before Kamilah continued, her voice growing gravely serious. “But it won’t be easy. The only thing that can stem his influence is the Tree of Eternal Life. And we don’t have that. But, we do have the next best thing.”

Something about the way she said that made Diana’s stomach twist into a knot. “Which is?”

“Someone who holds the tree’s power,” Kamilah said softly, almost apologetically. “You, Diana. We need your blood.”

Everything in her body went cold at that. Diana suddenly felt as if there were a yawning pit beneath her, waiting to swallow her whole. She echoed Kamilah numbly, “My blood.”

Gaius stiffened beside her. She felt his gaze burning into her skin but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. Her blood.

“Yes. I…” She heard Kamilah swallow, struggling to find the words. If Kamilah was hesitating, things were bad.“I wouldn’t ask this of you if I thought there was any other way.” 

“How much of it?”

“I don’t know. There’s no way to tell until we do it.” Kamilah’s voice was quiet. “Diana, if you don’t want to do this, it’s okay. We’ll… We’ll figure something else out.”

“It’s okay,” Diana whispered, heart pounding in her ears. “It’s okay,” she repeated. “You said it yourself. You wouldn’t have called unless there were no other options. So, we have to at least try this. I’ll be fine. I’ll do it.”

“...You’re sure of this?” Kamilah questioned.

“Yes.” Diana swallowed the lump in her throat, her fists clenching against her thighs, palms sweating. 

“I’ll have Adrian arrange for your flight back. Then we can work out the details,” Kamilah promised and Diana heard her heels clicking once again. “I’m about to meet with him and update him on the situation.”

“Give him my best.” It was a battle to sound upbeat and Diana knew her attempt fell flat.

“I will. Just get home safe,” Kamilah said. “Both of you.”

Ah. Both. So Jax had filled her in.

Diana promised they would, then hung up, her phone dangling between her fingers as she stared blankly at the wall, reeling. She couldn’t explain the pit that had yawned open in her stomach or the inexplicable feeling she had that whatever was coming next, it would demand everything of her.

“Diana…” Gaius murmured and she felt his fingertips on her jaw, gently guiding her face towards his. His eyes were intent on hers, full of questions and concern. Diana wanted to fall into his touch, to drown in him until she forgot about everything that existed beyond this room. She wanted so badly to give in and hide away forever with him, but she couldn’t. Diana had known this would come. Their time was up.

Diana pulled away, rolling out of bed and starting towards the closet that contained what few belongings she had. “Get packed,” she said over her shoulder, yanking out her duffle bag. “We’re going to New York.”

                                Tagging: @courtesanofedenbrook, @esmeortegas, @xbobbatea, @bachelorettebound14, @somin-yin, @mkamra2355, @bigmemesplz, @dorkylittleweirdo, @memetrashing, @vesselsynths, @mindlesschicca, @mikewawazoski, @choicesplayer101

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Stuck With U

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: This is fluffy goodness. Check out the song Stick With U while you ready this beauty. Warnings: mentions of quarantine, COV-19. Summary: 

Tony hears the voice of an intelligent stranger in his Philosophical Ethics class and is immediately hooked. When he sees the person attached to the voice, there's no turning back.

Or, the one where Tony meets Peter in a coffee shop and an epic love affair occurs. It's based loosely off of Stuck With U.

Read it on AO3 here

I'm not one to stick around One strike and you're out, baby Don't care if I sound crazy But you never let me down, no, no

Tony always figured his humanities credit would always come back to bite him in the ass. For most of his college career, he’d gotten away with sticking around the engineering building – being a genius in the high school setting made bringing college credit in with him a brilliant thing. Despite having the ability to stay stagnant in the part of campus Tony liked the most, he wasn’t going to get to graduate unless he took a humanities course. And since karma was the ultimate bitch, the only thing available during his final year at UT Austin was Philosophical Ethics. What the actual fuck was philosophical ethics? To top off the increasingly delicious shit sundae, the humanities building was all the way on the other side of campus – and the class was in the middle of the afternoon. The petty part of him wanted to just skip the damn class every week to make a point. Who he was making the point to, he didn’t really know – which is why he found himself trekking across campus in the late September heat every Monday and Wednesday.

The first couple weeks were dull, the mundaneness of going through the syllabus and getting introduced to the course always seemed like a waste of time. The first real lecture happened the third week on Wednesday. The concept of virtue ethics wasn’t too complicated – how to live life and find the balance between virtue and vice. Dr. Sadler turned out to be a pretty interesting conversationalist and kept the entire class engaged throughout his talk. Tony didn’t think he’d be so interested in what the man had to say, but at the end of class – his hand hurt from writing notes and his mind was running wild with all of the information bestowed upon them. Other than the long walk from the engineering lab, Tony wasn’t hating the class. In fact, there were a few other people in it that were just as engaged in the topics and asked questions, rose their hands to answer intelligently, and sometimes even beat Tony to the punch.

One such day, Tony spent an extra second looking at the passage about Socrates before thrusting his hand into the air. For such a cool guy, he prided himself on his intelligence. When a soft but sure voice a row in front of him spoke up before he did, Tony tilted his head and watch with wonder as the guy recited the exact thing that’d been passing across the front of his mind since the question was asked. The feeling of being miffed stuck around for a second, then a weird sort of warmth settled. He hated to admit that he recognized it as respect and pride. Whoever the heck that kid was, he had a good brain on his shoulders. Tony forced himself to think of anything but that for the rest of class – his attention easily placed back on the older man at the front of room. The professor was the most interesting one he’d ever had. If Santa Clause wore Pink Floyd suspenders and brown instead of red – he’d be Dr. Sadler. It was easy to watch him walk around the lecture hall and blather on.

The day before the first test of the semester, Tony found himself in the little coffee shop not far from the building he was slowly getting accustomed to. He spotted it heading to class the previous day and decided to check it out. With his backpack over his shoulder, he figured he could stick around and get some studying done, too. The line wasn’t very long, so he was standing in front of the register in no time. Looking up from his phone, Tony started to order, but stopped dead in his tracks. The human person in front of him was the most beautiful thing in the entire world. His hair was on the longer side, the ends curly. The barista’s eyes were big, brown, and bright – the irises of them like warm chocolate. The thing that distracted him the most, though – was his smile. It was soft, like a shared secret and after a second of staring too long – it looked a little uneasy.

Laughing to himself and shaking his head, Tony got himself together. “Can I get your biggest sized espresso, please?” Tony asked, his voice a little scratchy from the lack of talking all morning. The guy behind the counter nodded, his smile taking on the adorably shy quality from before. “Can I get you anything else?” he said, and Tony’s eyes immediately bulged. He recognized that voice – this was the kid who answered oh so eloquently a couple of classes before. “This is probably going to sound weird, but you don’t happen to take Philosophical Ethics with Sadler, do you? There was this guy the other week that said some great shit about Socrates and his take on virtues – you sound like him, but what the fuck do I know?” Tony got out in what seemed like one breath. He shot a sheepish smile in the other guys direction – his shoulders shrugging. “I do, actually. My friend Wanda and I call him Santa. This is our third semester taking one of his sections. I’m Peter,” the other man replied, his cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink.

“Santa. That’s funny. I thought that, too. The suspenders really drive it home,” he slipped his credit card across the counter as he spoke – his eyes following Peter’s fingers, their length stupidly distracting for some reason. “Peter – nice to know you. I’m Tony. And I have to say – I was pretty impressed,” Tony finally managed to get out – if he didn’t then, he probably never would. The pink on the other’s cheeks turned to red and he tucked his head. “That’s something coming from Tony Stark,” Peter’s eyes flashed with mischief when Tony looked at him suddenly. “Yeah, I know who you are. You TA’ed in the physics lab in front of me last semester – I heard you tear down a kid in the dullest of tones. Kind of badass, dude,” Peter finished, the man passing him his card and receipt. “Oh, well – I aim to please. Do you have a break coming up anytime soon? I was going to study for Sadler’s test tomorrow – I could use a brain like yours.” He blushed at the way the words sounded in the space between them – but felt a bit better when the guy was nodding at him, his smile the entire width of his face.

“I’ll be off in ten minutes, actually. If you camp out in the back of the store, you’ll get the best Wi-Fi. I’ll come find you.” Peter flashed him a smile and turned his attention to the person behind him. They were probably pissed; he’d been standing there stupidly for way too long. Running a hand through his hair, Tony leaned against the pick-up counter and waited for his coffee with a dazed look on his face. What were the chances that the brainy intellectual he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to pat on the back or slap upside the head – was so goddamn beautiful, too? It didn’t seem fair. Hearing his name called, Tony pushed himself out of his thought and grabbed the cup – the warmth of it immediately grounding him a little. He didn’t wait for any of the heat to seep out, his tongue very used to his dumb ass self sucking down coffee straight from the pot. The coffee was tasty, and the extra jolt of caffeine immediately made him feel a little more motivated.

By the time he’d gotten his books out on the table and his laptop open, Peter was heading towards him. The pile of books in his hand made him seem a little younger than he probably was – the long sleeves of his hoodie were covering his hands, adding to the adorableness factor Tony started tallying in his head. Peter sat down and spread himself out, their clutter on the table taking up the entire surface. Looking up from his screen, Tony found himself smiling – Peter’s eyes were so nice, and they were staring right back at him. He tucked his lower lip between his teeth and ducked out of the eye contact, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the pen he’d set on top of his notebook. “You said you’ve taken his courses before, right? How are his exams? I bet a guy like that doesn’t change ups his teaching style all that much,” Tony said, breaking the silence. Peter nodded, the gesture obviously one of his customary reactions. “The format changes every time. The way he asks his questions doesn’t. The review we went over yesterday did a pretty good job mapping out all the things to look at.”

The hour went fast after that. They spent the entire time laying out a study guide highlighting all the information they went over in the review session and the things they noted more than once throughout either set of notes. When the blaring alarm cut through the haze of their little bubble, Tony had to blink a few times to remember where he was exactly. Tilting his head, he watched Peter start to collect his things, a soft smile on the guy’s face. “Thanks for sharing your break with me. I don’t think we’ll have to do much studying after making this thing,” Tony remarked, his fingers pointing to the several page document they put together. He caught the light pink hue on Peter’s cheeks and felt himself fall just a little. He didn’t know where he was falling exactly – but this guy did something to him, something that made him feel a little itchy and a lot warm. Like maybe he had a Peter allergy, but the histamine response was so, so, so worth it. “I like the way your brain works, Tony. See you tomorrow,” Peter said, his books once again tucked into the swell of his arm. He walked backwards for a second, looking Tony over – then he turned and headed to the back.

Tony watched the door swing back and forth, a dopey grin on his face.

The test went unsurprisingly well – Tony didn’t have to spend much time at all thinking deeply about any of the questions. The study guide they put together prepared him more than adequately. When he walked out, he noticed Peter was also getting out of his seat – so he waited. Their eyes met when Peter turned his paper into Sadler and the guy broke into a smile as they walked out the door together. “You’re a much better study partner than Wanda. That was so easy,” Peter admitted, his hands knotted together in front of him. “I’ve never finished one of Sadler’s exam that quick.” Peter’s cheeks were ketchup red and getting cuter by the fucking second. “I’m happy to have been a big help, then. I like him. He’s one of the smartest guys I’ve ever met, and I feel like that’s something coming from me,” Tony snorted at the look on Peter’s face – the pureness of quirked eyebrows and a crinkled nose so terribly hard to resist.

“You’re kind of an ass, aren’t you, Tony Stark?” Peter asked, his nose still crinkled, lips pulled into a shit eating grin. “Yeah. I’m kind of an ass. If you let it, it’ll grow on you,” Tony reached out and lightly punched the other’s shoulder. “Do you have class, or can I show you what I’m working on for my honor’s thesis? You were outside my lab last semester, right? So that means you’ve at least taking thermodynamics – you’ll understand a good bit of it.” Tony stopped his rambling when he noticed the look on Peter’s face – he looked like a kid that just got invited to Wonka’s chocolate factory. After a little bit of discussion, the day before, Tony found out Peter was a couple credits shy of being a junior and was soaring through the biomedical engineering program – the same way Tony did his own. Despite the guy’s shy tendencies, Peter was very smart and very outspoken about it. He smiled over at the younger guy and pressed a hand to his shoulder again. “You in or not, Petey?” Tony prodded softly, his smile widening at the enthusiastic head nod. “I’m in, I’m in. I haven’t seen the honors’ labs, yet.”

It was a little silly, how easily things seemed to settle into place. Tony considered Peter one of his best friends almost instantly. When Tony sat down on Peter’s right the next class, Wanda and all of her scarlet haired glory didn’t utter a word. The three of them talked like they’d always been a trio both before and after class – Tony found out very quickly that Wanda was very strategic, he’d need to watch his ass around her. Tony also found himself heading to the coffee shop at the edge of campus every Tuesday at 2PM to spend Peter’s hour break with him. They usually looked over Ethics, the homework a lot easier now that he was talking to a human and not the stupid robot he’d built for a robotics competition his sophomore year. The more time they spent together, though – the less of it they spent talking about Ethics. Tony knew the testing ideology now, so he wasn’t all the worried, anyway. No, he appreciated when the topic would stray away from philosophy and tread into the more personal. Peter was a conundrum and kept getting more complicated week by week.

Tony didn’t really do the feelings thing. Throughout most of his time on his own, he kept to himself. It was easy to get lost in another person; he’d seen enough people do it. He could still remember pre-Bucky Steve – the man was the life of the party. Tony liked to be by himself, and yet – he slowly started to find himself looking forward to Tuesday afternoons and the hour and a couple extra minutes Peter spent sitting with him, pretending to study and talking about all of the things. The week Peter missed class Monday and then wasn’t at work Tuesday, Tony was a little worried. It’d been practically an entire semester now of meeting up and he wondered a couple things when he didn’t have a way to contact him – why the hell hadn’t they ever exchanged numbers, and why did it seem so monumental, Peter not being there? Curiously, Tony waited until Wanda wasn’t busy behind the counter and nodded at her – his empty cup in his hand. “Where’s Peter?” Tony tried to casually ask, his fingers pushing the cup towards her in aid of his effort. “His aunt passed away. He’s been putting together her funeral for this afternoon.”

Tony felt his stomach drop. Peter mentioned May practically every time they talked about life outside of academic pursuits. It seemed like she was the most important person to Peter and the fact that she was suddenly gone – Tony knew how much the man must be hurting. Thanking Wanda, Tony didn’t wait around for the refill of his cup, his fingers already typing furiously on the screen of his phone. Google immediately showed him the obituary and where the funeral service was being held – if he wore the blazer in his car and got there in the next twenty minutes, he could make the service. Determined, Tony stopped in the bathroom and splashed some water on his face before grabbing his things and heading out to his car. A quick stop at the florist by the church and Tony was dragging his ass to the back of a small chapel.

Despite the place being small, there were a lot of people stuffed into the pews. It was obvious by the way Peter talked about her; how much she was loved – the people in the room just proved that. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house (Tony included), the ceremony was really beautiful and Peter’s brief, but powerful eulogy tied the entire thing together. Tony didn’t know the woman, he felt a little out of his league being there, but it felt good to support another person. Their eyes locked for a brief minute during Peter’s kind words about his aunt and for a brief second – he didn’t look as sad, anymore. Tony’s wobbly smile must have been encouraging, because the last half of his words were spoken more confidently. At the end of the service, Tony waited in the back pew for the crowd to say their condolences to Peter – he didn’t want the man to see him crying, either. He got himself together in the meantime – his eyes a little itchy from the blazer he’d been rubbing them on.

When he approached Peter, Tony immediately noticed how distraught he looked. He couldn’t imagine what it was like lose someone so special. Tony’s parents passing was hard, but he took it in stride – they weren’t very close. Peter looked like he might keel over – so Tony pulled him close, his arms tight around the younger man’s waist. He felt hands fist into his jacket, Peter’s nose pressing into the front of his shirt. Tony held him a little closer, his arms tight around him until the shaking stopped. He didn’t know when his hand started to move ever so slightly up and down the small of Peter’s back – but the touch was there, and it didn’t seem like he was going to be pulling away from him anytime soon. Peter looked up at him after a while, his cheeks tear stained, and eyes rimmed in what looked like an uncomfortable red. Without thinking, Tony let a thumb brush away a stray tear. “Your words were beautiful,” Tony mumbled, the lily in his hand a little crumpled from the neglect of it during their embrace. Peter didn’t seem to mind the bent stem, the boy bringing the flower to his chest. “Thanks for coming, Tony.”

A little while later, Peter found him sitting out on churches steps, his blazer now over his knee, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He’d been watching all of the people try and get the last little bit of Peter’s attention before they headed off to do who knows what. Funerals were funny things – people flocked to them, like the thoughts of someone else dying but not them were enough to overcome the grief. He remembered his parents’ soiree – there were so many people he’d never seen before, it felt more like a banquet dinner than a human person’s funeral. He kept his head down and waited until it was just Peter and a small violet urn – the last little piece of a life the man would no longer live. Tired eyes looked at him and, in that moment, all Tony saw was gratitude. He didn’t rush to give him a hug, or say how sorry he was, Tony simply held a hand out and let Peter take it.

They spent the rest of the night eating May’s favorite Thai food, with Peter regaling him with all of the best May Parker stories. The health conscious, vegan diner waitress with the biggest heart and warmest hug. The silence they eventually fell into was nice and easy, a little bit of relief from all of the emotion they’d been wrapped up in since he saw Peter for the first time at the church. Tony didn’t know much about Pho – but could tell this stuff was the real deal. He liked learning new things – especially where Peter was concerned. A noodle hit him in the chin and the wet squish of it slapping his skin broke the silence between them. Tony watched Peter laugh for probably the first time in days and felt a little piece of him melt – just a little.

“Why’d you end up coming, anyway?” Peter asked out of the blue, his voice still heavy with sadness and unshed tears. His eyes were hopeful, though – watery doe eyes big and looking directly at him. “I don’t really know, to be honest. Wanda told me about May and it just seemed like the right thing to do. Tuesday’s don’t have to stop being our thing because something bad happened in your life. I guess – you’re kind of stuck with me.” Tony shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating – his honesty a little too much for him in the moment. He’d never spoken so bluntly to someone before – at least, not someone he was saying something nice to, someone he admittedly admired so very, very much. “Okay, that sounds good,” Peter replied simply after a while, his shoulder pressing into Tony’s chest when he leaned over to press soup warm lips to Tony’s cheek. He felt his cheeks heat up, the spot on his skin a little moist from Peter’s lips.

It was pretty easy to make more than Tuesday their thing after that.

----

So go ahead and drive me insane Baby, run your mouth I still wouldn't change being stuck with you Stuck with you, stuck with you

The transition to being a boyfriend was surprisingly easy for Tony. Peter was the one person that gave Tony motivation outside himself – the happiness he felt when Peter smiled at him or looked pleased with him was totally different, something he wanted to cling to for as long as possible. After finals, Tony brought Peter into his small two-bedroom apartment – the two of them spending the entirety of winter break together. A part of him wanted to ask Peter to stay when the spring semester started, but he eventually came to the conclusion that they weren’t quite there yet. It didn’t stop Peter from being over at his place all the time, though. He understood what it was like to hate a roommate – the whole reason he lived by himself in the first place came from dislike of having to be around other humans. So, he didn’t mind the fact that his boyfriend found his apartment to be more comfortable than a place shared with two other dudes – dudes that, if Peter was to be believed, were very disorderly and distracting.

It was stupidly nice to have Peter with him all the time; Tony wasn’t going to object to that. It was nice to come home to a table filled with engineering textbooks and a couple cups worth of old coffee. There was a certain feeling about walking in to see someone he cared for so diligently doing something – it felt like a punch to the gut more often times than not. Peter’s brain was one of the things Tony loved the most about him. Loved – funny, they hadn’t said that word, yet. Though, Tony thought about it constantly. Time went by with Peter in a way that made things seem effortless. The longer they were together, the more Tony felt himself wanting to soak up all the things that came with having Peter Parker in his life. There were so many things he wanted to do with Peter in his life and the fact that they hadn’t taken the final step was a little intimidating – the more Tony held off, the scarier it all got. The worst thing that could happen was losing Peter, it didn’t take him very long to realize that.

It seemed silly, then, when Tony started to be a bit more of an asshole. It wasn’t Peter specific – there were enough dirty looks sent his way from the general populace to know he was being a bit of a prick to everyone. He didn’t mean it, either – there was a part of him that kept using that as an excuse for his grumpiness. The deadline for his honors thesis was quickly approaching and Tony felt stupidly underprepared. There were a lot of variables that were out of his hands and the stress of not having complete control of the situation made everything seem a little more monumental than normal. And though it felt like the world was quickly starting to close in on him, Peter remained steadily beside him. It was easy to see how much Peter endured in his life – he easily let Tony’s shitty remarks and sarcastic quips fly off his back. Every time Tony was a shit, Peter shook his head and gave him space – and later when Tony came crawling back with stupid excuses and promises of many, many kisses, Peter welcomed him back with open arms.

The closer it got to the due date, the worst it got – even Tony could rationally perceive it. It wasn’t hard to see how much longer it took Peter to bounce back from the stupid arguments Tony started – sometimes on purpose, if he were being honest with himself. It wasn’t hard to notice how Peter spent a couple extra days away between his stays with Tony. The rational part of him understood that he wasn’t the only person on the planet that needed space – that he wasn’t being nice to the person he loved more than anything. He couldn’t find the words to make Peter understand the type of stress he felt, so he didn’t say any. There were so many things trying to crush him – it seemed easy to lean heavily and rely on the one thing that hadn’t demanded anything from him.

Of course – things can only take so much pressure on them before they snap. As an engineer, Tony knew that better than anyone else. The morning the dam broke, Tony pressed the home button of his phone, his eyes blinking from a surprisingly refreshing sleep. The night before was one of the best they had in the past few weeks – Tony finally felt a little better falling into a deep sleep with Peter in his arms. After the second press to the thing, he put the pieces together and realized he didn’t plug it in to catch any charge overnight. Turning over, he caught the time on the clock on what he considered Peter’s bedside table for a while and his eyes bulged. There was no way he’d make it to his advisor meeting on time. Despite consciously knowing that, Tony went into panic mode. He got up out of bed and started rushing around the room. In his haste, he almost missed the sleepy “Tony?” coming from the bed.

“Go back to sleep, Pete. I’m a goddamn mess and don’t have any of my shit together. You don’t need to see this shit fest,” Tony mumbled, his teeth clenched together in a desperate attempt to keep whatever was bubbling up under control. There was so much stress and of course he’d be late for the one thing he needed to go to – the news about whether he’d get the rest of his research data approved, the final pieces missing to the honors thesis that’d been haunting him for weeks now. For whatever reason, Peter’s softly spoken “Sorry, Tones,” made him snap – his frustration finally breaking the last remaining supports keeping everything together.

“What are you sorry for, Pete? I was so happy to have you in my arms last night that I forgot to plug in my phone. I let myself enjoy something for a second and now I’m late and not going to finish college. I’ve been working my ass off and I’m not going to finish. I’m not saying this is your fault – but fuck it all. This is the worst possible time to fall apart.” Tony kept talking as he swept around the room, Peter’s confused look only slowing him down for a second. On a normal morning, the sheet slipping down the other’s shoulder in the tantalizing way it was would’ve had him getting into bed and ignoring all of his so-called responsibilities. Oh, how Tony longed for those days. He could feel tears starting to prickle in his eyes – a combination of shame and frustration mixing together to make a hurricane of hard to handle emotions. Slipping into the first pair of shoes he saw, Tony grabbed his bag and fled the apartment – hot tears spilling down his face something he was glad Peter didn’t have to see.

The walk onto campus was brisk enough to keep everything at bay – he’d never be able to get onto campus as fast he did that day again. Getting there with a couple minutes to spare, Tony instantly felt like a jackass. Not just because he’d lost his cool, but because he might’ve insinuated that the one good thing in his life was causing a commotion – which he wasn’t. Not at all. In fact, the only thing causing a commotion was Tony himself. That much was apparent when Dr. Coulson presented him with a fully approved thesis – the latest pieces of data and all.

It felt good to finally be done with the damn thing. Better than good, actually. He felt a lot of the cobwebs from the past few weeks start to shake off and the haze clear a little bit. What he was faced with wasn’t much to celebrate – the confused look on Peter’s face still alive and present in the forefront of Tony’s mind. He wondered why Peter continued to stick around through Tony’s latest grump streak, why the man chose to stick around and be on the end of ill-timed uncertainty. For the first time, Tony understood how important it was that Peter did stick around.

Pulling his phone out, Tony started to formulate a plan – one that would say sorry and thank you all at once. With quick fingers, he sent Peter a quick text, the good news still fresh in his mind.

Tony Stark [11:12AM]: I made it on time. They accepted my thesis. I’m officially done. Tony Stark [11:13AM]: I’ve been an ass, and I’m sorry. Tony Stark [11:14AM]: I’m glad you’re still here.

He clicked the lock on the phone and tucked it into his bag. There were a few things he needed to get done before heading back to his apartment. Before his little tissy fit, they’d been planning to spend the weekend together. If luck was in his favor, Peter would still be there when he walked through the door later. Tony forced himself not to think about what would happen if the man wasn’t there, or if he stuck around just to confront him and then jet. There were so many things Tony wanted to say – so many emotions he wanted to share. He just needed the chance to get the stuff out in the open. It felt important to be able to open up to Peter like that – share his fears and vulnerabilities. Peter was the man Tony invited into his bed on a regular basis. For all intents and purposes, they were sharing everything – cooking utensils and bodily fluids alike. It would make sense that he’d be able to be a little looser with the restraint on his feelings with him, too.

The nicest part about being with Peter came from all the similarities they shared. He knew the perfect thing to bring back to the apartment as a white flag and could honestly say he was looking forward to giving it to Peter. It relieved a lot of stress – something that Tony obviously wasn’t the best at dealing with – feeling so confident in the reception of a gift. A quick perusal through Game Stop had him clutching a small black bag and feeling a whole lot better. It didn’t really matter, finding the right present. What mattered was the fact that Tony felt good and conscious enough of his behavior to want to make it right. Baby steps, and all that.

Walking into the apartment to see Peter’s black Chuck Taylor’s still piled messily against the wall by the front door was an instant relief. Tony felt his chest unclench a little bit. The steadily collecting pieces of Peter around the apartment were still there, too. The PS4 and its many cables were still sitting next to Tony’s X-Box – and the collection of Family Guy and American Dad DVDs were ensconced nicely with Tony’s Mad Max collector’s edition box set. Now that he wasn’t stuck in a rut of anxiety and stress, Tony could see just how much of Peter there was around the place. Not even noticing made the feeling of rightness sink in a little more – the simple fact that it was natural felt like a pretty big thing. Gripping the bag in his hand, Tony kicked off the Van’s he’d been wearing and walked further into the apartment.

He wasn’t expecting the coffee table in the middle of the living room to be decked out with sleek black table settings and a single rose in between them. Though the TV wasn’t on, Tony could hear the scratch of the record player across a vinyl – the noise immediately making him feel calm, like the soothing noise of rain on a rooftop. Peter walked casually out of the kitchen carrying out a big pot – Tony knowing right away that there was mac & cheese waiting for them under the top of said pot. The other’s eyes were soft when their gazes met, and Tony felt himself relax just a little bit more. He wasn’t really sure what was going on, but he didn’t mind the light smile on Peter’s lips or the delicious scent of melted cheese and butter. The one thing Tony felt certain about was the fact that he didn’t deserve the beautiful man setting the hot dish on the table – he didn’t deserve the sweetness that laid so inherently inside Peter Parker’s heart and soul.

“What is all this, Pete?” Tony asked, his hands still fiddling with the bag he’d been clutching onto. Peter shrugged and took a seat on the couch – his hand patting the cushion next to him. “It’s not anything, baby. You did good shit today. I thought maybe we could celebrate with the only dish I can cook and the rest of that red we didn’t finish the other night.” The words were so genuine and so easily delivered. Dropping his backpack, Tony didn’t hesitate to sit on the couch next to him, their thighs brushing with his movements. He set the Game Stop bag on Peter’s lap and used his now free hands to grab his cheeks lightly. “This world doesn’t deserve you, Peter Parker. Especially me,” Tony murmured. He closed the gap between them easily, their lips connecting in a way that spoke of both parties leaning forward to partake.

Pulling away, Tony let his thumb linger against Peter’s lips for a moment, his eyes greedily taking in the way the other was looking at him. It felt like a long time since he’d been able to see those eyes with so much clarity. He let that sink in, the idea that he spent any time at all not worshipping the brown orbs that looked at him with so much want and affection. “I don’t know why you’ve stayed around with all the bull shit I’ve been dumping on you, but I’m glad. I hope you know that – I’m so fucking happy that you’re here, Pete,” Tony couldn’t stop himself; the words were dripping from him like a leaky faucet – each droplet of truth a little bit bigger than the last.

Peter caught one of his hands and brought it up to his lips, Tony’s breath quickening slightly at the touch. Those chocolate brown eyes kept up their glance, Peter’s gaze smoky – a little hazy in the way he couldn’t focus on just one part of Tony’s face. “I knew who you were getting into this. You’re an asshole – that’s not a lie. I didn’t expect that to be pretty. I didn’t expect you to be bright and shiny all the time. I get that you were stressed. You’re a human, Tony. And like you said, I’m stuck with you.”

Tony couldn’t remember a time when his words being used against him felt any sweeter. He quickly wrapped Peter in a tight hug, his lips pressing against the side of his head in a tender kiss. “Ecstatically so,” Tony said in a whisper, his entire being simply overwhelmed. He forced himself to pull away, Tony knowing that if he let himself, he’d get pulled under the spell of Peter and all the peaceful goodness his boyfriend could bring. He tapped at the bag he put on Peter’s lap, a soft smile on his lips.

“I know I can’t buy love and all of that, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try,” Peter pulled out the Nintendo Switch version of Super Smash Bros Melee while Tony spoke, his eyes lighting up. They’d been watching all of the trailers and reading up about it – it was the ultimate date night adventure. “There’s a reason why we’re so good together,” Pete said, his feet already carrying him to the tv to get the game into the console. The remotes joined the bowls on the table, and the spent the rest of the night was spent yelling at the tv, each other, and binging on way too much mac and wine.

The next morning, Tony woke up with a gratifying hangover and Peter’s entire body weight against his right side – the best reminder of the gift he constantly got to keep on getting.

The slurred ‘I love you’ pressed against his chest wasn’t too terrible, either.

----

So lock the door And throw out the key Can't fight this no more It's just you and me

Two years with Peter past by insanely quick. After publishing his thesis, Tony graduated with highest honors and scored a pretty decent engineering job with Valero. The pay was great, the hours were nice, and he got to stay in his apartment. An apartment that at the start of the next semester, became Peter’s, too. Tony wanted to be able to give Peter the ability to have a stress-free academic experience. Their schedules intersected in a way that meant they got to eat dinner together every night – it was one of those scenes out of those dream montages for such a long time. Watching Peter learn and grow in both his knowledge and expertise was a lot of fun for Tony. Many nights were spent with the two of them discussing Peter’s work – the man was following Tony’s footsteps and doing an honors thesis, too. The five-year program was the perfect way to get a head start in the professional world – and Tony couldn’t wait to see what Peter was going to bring.

Aside from their jobs, Tony and Peter spent a lot of time with each other and the tight knit group of friends they developed during their time together. Steve and Bucky were old friends of Tony’s, so they were easy to add to Friday night dinners and double dates. It was silly to think that Bucky Barnes wouldn’t get along with another human. He and Peter kicked it off instantly and suddenly, two became four. Tony met Bruce in that lab at Valero – they were both fresh out of school and starting their careers. A little commonality went a long way. He and Natasha were easy to incorporate into the chosen family they were creating. Natasha treated Peter like a mother hen – it made his heart warm to see them sitting in a chair together, the woman running her fingers through Peter’s chestnut locks. Tony didn’t know much about family – but he understood enough to realize just how lucky the group of them were. Thursday night game nights and Sunday afternoon cookouts were the regular – it was nice, they were happy.

The original plan after Peter graduated was for the younger man to join him at Valero. There were many places for a mind like Peter’s in the depths of the energy company’s labs – but a piece of Tony felt like maybe that wasn’t the right place for him. The compound Peter created was unparalleled and his research was insane – to the point where Tony spent many hours reading through it, marveling at the intelligence within the written words. Tony could cop to settling for something that was steady and gave him enough freedom to enjoy the work he was doing. It was enough – yet, Peter deserved a lot more than that in his professional life.

Which is why it wasn’t much of a surprise when Peter brought up a job offer he received in New York – he’d been bouncing around for a couple of days and Tony finally sat him down and asked outright what the fuck was going on. His boyfriend presented research in New York and while there, Oscorp Industries sent a headhunter after him – offering him a job that was hard to pass up. Peter told him about it nervously, his hands fumbling in front of him, long pauses between stuttered out words. For a second, Tony wanted to be offended – the way Peter was acting made him feel like the scariest mother fucker in the world, like he’d be so far away from supportive. Yet, he saw the slightest bit of hope in Peter’s eyes and understood where the nervousness came from. “I want you to come with me, Tony. I know, you’ve got a job here and there’s the guys – but I think we could really make a go out there,” Peter flashed a smile at him, the hope in his eyes growing with each word.

Instinct kicked in and Tony nodded, his eyes wide. “Holy shit, Pete. Congratulations. That’s – that’s amazing!” They were hugging before Tony could even blink, his hands grasping onto the material of Peter’s t-shirt. “I will absolutely move to New York with you. Absolutely.” Tony heard the words in his own ears, the certainty of them. He felt his entire stomach clench – not because he was mad or upset, but because his entire world was about to change. Everything in his entire world was about to change. Peter’s hands framed his face and the rest of the conversation was history – Tony losing his pants in celebration not too long after that.

The next couple of months were jam packed full of both Tony and Peter getting ready to move their entire lives across the country. Peter was finishing up with the last few mandatory things for school and Tony was quietly making future plans – he’d been working on a few things in the lab with Bruce, things that could change the face of energy. Given the right place to do some expansions, they could easily be onto something. While Peter prepped the final parts of his thesis, Tony put together proposals and made finishing touches on presentation material. Though they weren’t spending an insane amount of time together, it was easy to feel assured – secure in the fact that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. They were making plans and figuring things out. Tony was content and thought for certain that Peter was, too.

It made sense – the timing. Tony’s slew of interviews in New York were the same week as Peter’s thesis approval. When the younger man dropped Tony off at the airport, he was still a little grumpy from the little dispute they had earlier. Tony could still remember the heated look in Peter’s eyes. “Why do you have to go this week? You’ve been so quiet about all of this and now all of the sudden you’re leaving? This is a big week for me,” Peter’s voice was a little raw at the end, they’d been hashing it out for a while.

Tony shook his head, the roundabout argument of the unfortunate timing getting a little old. “I’ve shown you the arc reactor plans, Peter. I scheduled all of the interviews to happen all at the same time, so I only had to make one trip – if things go the way I’m hoping, I’ll be home before you find out. I’m sorry, Pete. It’s shit timing, I know. I’ve been keeping this close to the belt because I’m nervous and don’t want to jinx any of the opportunities. I’m sorry, Petey,” Tony mumbled, his hands desperately trying to grip Peter’s cheeks, trying to sooth the other.

There was no soothing, though – Tony could remember a time when he felt as irritable as his boyfriend and shook it all off. There were important things that needed to happen on this trip – and so many of them were hanging in the air. It didn’t make any sense for both of them to be irritable the entire time Tony was away. He ended up leaving the car with a soft kiss against his cheek and a subdued “I love you” which Tony took and returned in stride. With his bag in his hand, Tony stood on the curb and watched Peter pull away, a soft smile on his lips. Turning when he heard Bruce, Tony smiled even wider – they were heading to New York to pitch their arc reactor idea to a couple of investment companies. If all went well, they’d be well on their way to establishing their own energy business. Tony wanted to have the plans in place before telling Peter – he wanted to bring something to the other man to be proud of. Shaking his head and trying his hardest to clear it of the argument, Tony followed Bruce into the airport and boarded the airplane in no time.

The first day of meetings was a total blur. By the time he wandered into his hotel room, Tony sent Peter a quick text message saying he loved him and then dropped onto the bed – his brain totally wiped. Like he figured, there weren’t too many companies willing to give them free rein on the construction and use of the arc reactor – and Tony wasn’t willing to part with such a great piece of technology. It didn’t seem like Bruce was all that keen, either – and he hoped their next day of meetings would go a little better. He didn’t notice his phone buzz a couple of different times, his body and mind lost to the land of slumber until early the next morning. He got up in a rush, the disorienting feeling of sleeping too long hitting him – his body still so tired despite being immobile for more than ten hours. Rolling over, Tony checked his phone and grimaced at the ten missed calls from Peter and the handful of text messages that were considerably more concerning.

Peter Parker [7:30PM]: Hey babe, I love you, too. How’d all the meetings go today? Peter Parker [8:45PM]: Should I take the lack of communication as a good or bad thing? Peter Parker [9:34PM]: I’m getting a little worried. You haven’t answered any of my calls, either. Are you okay? Peter Parker [11:21PM]: I guess you’re just not answering. I hope New York isn’t up in flames, or anything. Peter Parker [1:01AM]: Dammit, Tony.

Sucking in a quick breath, Tony looked over the texts again. He wondered idly how he managed to miss every single one of these – how he didn’t wake up to the buzz. The fatigue of traveling and haggling must’ve really kicked his ass. Tony pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and thought for a second – his brain still a little slow from the haze of sleep sticking around. Why did it seem like Peter was so strung out? Biting down on his lip a little more, Tony shook his head. He knew why Peter was upset and understood it. Things were changing – uncertainty was the name of the game when the entire Earth felt like it was shifting gears. Long fingers tangled into the strands at the front of his hair for a moment before Tony was typing on the screen.

Tony Stark [7:45AM]: Pete, I’m so sorry. Tony Stark [7:46AM]: I got into the room and crashed. Tony Stark [7:47AM]: The meetings were all a bit useless – but we’ve got the ones I’m most looking forward to today. Tony Stark [7:48AM]: I miss you, baby. I’ll call you when we’re done for the day.

He didn’t know how satisfactory that was, but with the time difference between New York and Texas, Tony wouldn’t be able to call Peter before their first meeting at 9AM. He knew Wednesday was the day Pete had a late lecture and liked to sleep a little later into the day. To sweeten the deal a little, Tony clicked on the camera and sent a selfie of him blowing a kiss, his eyes so soft – even he could see the shine in them. Sighing, he got up out of bed and started to get ready for a day filled with negotiating and attempting not to sell their souls. It was exhausting business, trying to prove one’s worth to the rest of the world.

Fortunately, these meetings went much better. There were two investors especially interested in the end product Tony and Bruce had in mind – they were willing to back the project with a workable and decent percentage off the top. The meeting with the bank finished off the last little bit of money they needed and by the end of the day, Tony and Bruce were business owners – hoping to lead the way in clean and sustainable energy, one arc reactor at a time. Tony couldn’t believe they actually convinced people to buy into their idea. In their time in the lab, they’d put together a protype of the model they were interested in building – the thing only missing the necessary elements to bring it together. After Tony passionately describe the construction process and the benefits it would bring – the right people were eating out of the palm of his hand. Tony and Bruce exchanged a couple of brief hugs and then they were off in their separate directions – the one thing Tony appreciated about Bruce more than anything else. There weren’t any expectations.

Excited, Tony pulled out his phone and pulled up Peter’s contact information, his thumb hitting the call button without another thought. It only took a couple rings for the man to pick up – Tony glad for the millionth time that his lover wasn’t petty or able to hold much of a grudge. Tony did dumb shit all the time – he forgot silly things and didn’t answer his phone. Peter took it with grace, the man a saint in that way. A slightly subdued voice met him on the other side of the line. “Hey, Tones,” Peter answered. Tony couldn’t help but smile, regardless of how much he knew Peter wanted to yell at him.

“Hey, baby. I know I fucked up – but I’m so happy to hear your voice,” Tony responded immediately, his body relaxed for the first time since leaving home. Peter chuckled, the sound an immediate reminder of home. “You didn’t fuck up – I was just being a little needy. You leaving got me a little scrambled. I think I just miss you,” Tony sighed at Peter’s words, his heart heaving against his chest. “I miss you, too. But I’ll be home tomorrow – just in time to pick you up to celebrate,” Tony couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice, the joint success of following his dream and Peter realizing his so nice, so fulfilling for the both of them.

“And just what all are we celebrating?” Peter asked, the background noise making it sound like he shifted while he spoke. Tony ran his free hand through his hair, fingers tugging at the ends ever so slightly. “Your thesis approval, of course,” Tony started with, his voice dipping a little, “and the opening of S&B Tech. Bruce and I found some investors today. We’ve got enough to get off the ground and get a functioning prototype up and running.” The words were beautiful coming from his lips – the happiness in his chest hard to be contained.

He heard Peter gasp, the little inhale of breath a recognizable thing – something so very Peter. “Are you serious? I didn’t know you were looking to open a company, Tony! Why didn’t you tell me?” Peter’s question was valid, and Tony thought about it when they started this whole process. “The only honest answer I can give you, Pete, is the fact that I was scared of failing. I didn’t want to make all of these big plans and end up not fulfilling them. When we get to New York, I want us to be able to build from the ground up. It’s just you and me, baby – I wanted to make sure I could give us something worthy of us – of who we are together.” Tony felt so impassioned by the words coming out of his mouth, a huge smile slipping across his cheeks with them.

There was a moment or two of silence on the line, the only really exchange was the sound of their breathing. He’d been with the man long enough to recognize the organized pause – Peter was collecting himself, getting his thoughts together. Tony stuck the edge of his thumb into his mouth to bite at the cuticle – the wait killing him ever so slightly. “I’m such an idiot,” Peter mumbled, the words just barely there across the line. “I thought you were pulling away from me, or something. Like you ran off to New York with Bruce and you weren’t coming back. You’re just brilliant and trying to make the whole world see it. I’m such an idiot and so fucking proud of you,” Peter’s voice broke at the end, a soft laugh trailing off the last couple of words. Tony joined him, his chest lightening with ever vibrating laugh. “I told you before, Peter Parker – you’re stuck with me.”

The next day when Peter got him from the airport, Tony was greeted with two hands on his neck pulling him close – their lips meeting in a hot kiss that lasted much longer than appropriate in public. When they broke apart, Peter was grinning at him, his eye wide and bright – the irises rich like melting chocolate. “Hello, Mr. Entrepreneur,” Peter said softly, his cheeks a bright pink from the flush of their kiss. Tony smirked and leaned in for another quick peck. “Hello, Mr. Parker. Are you ready to celebrate all of the great things happening to us?” Tony’s answer came with a hand slipping into his, Peter’s slim fingers gripping his tightly.

“You bet, Mr. Stark.”

----

Kinda hope we're here forever There's nobody on these streets If you told me that the world's ending Ain't no other way that I could spend it

They stuck around Austin just long enough for Peter to walk across the stage for graduation. Tony didn’t want to admit it, but he’d never been prouder of anything in his entire life. Though they were seated far from all of the graduates, Tony and the crew all got up with a roar when the announcer called Peter Parker across the stage. Summa cum laude, honors graduate, and the Ben Henson grant winner – all and all, the man was stupidly smart, and Tony was so very glad to have someone like him attached to his side. Peter eventually found them after the four-hour ceremony – he looked a little tired and overwhelmed, yet, his eyes were glowing with excitement and happiness, too. When Tony pulled him into an embrace, Peter’s arms came around him tightly. “I’m proud of you, baby,” Tony mumbled, his lips pressed against the side of Pete’s head. Pulling back, Tony saw Peter’s lower lip tremble for just a minute – then he disguised it with a quick kiss to his lips. They didn’t get much more time alone together, the rest of the group embraced them both in a huge hug – the tears that didn’t get shed during the ceremony now cascading down all of their faces. Endings were hard – and this one came with more than a few changes.

Later that evening, Tony was sitting in a foldout chair with Peter in his lap. They’d lit their firepit on the small apartment balcony and the rest of the clan was gathered around it. Bucky and Steve were holding hands between two chairs, Bruce and Natasha were idly chattering to each other from the ground where they decided to camp out after Tony finished with the food on the BBQ. It wasn’t the most high-class graduation party, but they were quickly trying to put their lives into boxes and get their shit together to move across the country. Peter wouldn’t have wanted anything more, either – the boy wasn’t used to fancy things or people making big deals out of what he assumed to be the smallest things. Arms squeezing around his shoulders brought him back from his thoughts, Peter smiling down at him. “This is the best, Tony – thank you.” And little things like that were the nicest reminders of just how good he actually had it – the simple way Peter liked to live his life was all Tony ever wanted, he just didn’t know it until he met the man.

Before leaving for the night, Steve pulled Tony aside – the older man’s hand tight on his shoulder. “Do your best to keep him, Tony. This you, the guy standing in front of me – it’s the best version. I’ve never seen you look happier. And man is he good for you.” Steve stopped then, his hand moving to wrap around Tony’s shoulders to pull him in to a light side hug. “I’m going to miss you, brother. I’m happy to know that you’ve got someone worthy standing by your side, though. Take good care of each other.” He gave Tony another brief squeeze and stepped away, his hand finding Bucky’s – who’d been standing over to the side talking to Peter. The two of them left shortly after. Their goodbyes with Bruce and Natasha were brief – their places in New York weren’t too far from each other. After the door was shut firmly behind everybody, Tony didn’t have to wait long for Peter’s arms to wrap around him – his hands finding the thick locks at the back of his head. “Take me to bed, Mr. Stark.” He didn’t need any more spurring on than that – the rest of Peter’s graduation celebration took place behind a firmly closed door, just the two of them.

The moving van came two days later, the entirety of the life they built together over the past couple of years barely fitting into a medium sized U-Haul. It felt a little bittersweet driving out of Austin – Tony did the most growing of his life in that crazy city. He met the man of his dreams, graduated college, and realized exactly what he needed to be doing in life. He owed a lot to Austin, Texas. They shared a sad smile as they pulled onto the highway and started their first leg of the journey. Peter reached over and grabbed his hand, their fingers intertwining easily. There wasn’t much to be said – leaving together, sitting across the cab of the truck packed with all of their stuff – it was the easiest decision Tony could make. The grin Peter couldn’t keep from his face the first few hours of the drive said he felt the same, too. Though they were heading into the unknown, it didn’t feel as scary as Tony knew it could have.

Since neither of them were in any hurry to actually get there, they spent a couple weeks driving a longer route through Alabama, and then up through Virginia and into Pennsylvania. In the places either of them were eager to explore, they stopped. They took in the Atlanta Renaissance festival – which was an absolute blast. Tony had a hard time believing he’d change his lock screen from the picture of him and Peter dressed up as knights – his boyfriend’s tunic slipped down over his shoulder probably his favorite part. The day was nice when they drove through Virginia, so they spent a few hours exploring Virginia Beach – the taffy they found at a place called Candy Kitchen still making his stomach hurt from the massive amount they ate over the following few days. In Pennsylvania, they spent an afternoon in Philadelphia – the nerd in them both enjoying all of the history. The video he posted of Peter running up the stairs like Rocky got a lot of hits – and ended up scoring Tony the nickname Adrian.

By the time they actually got to the house they managed to score for a pretty decent price, Tony was more than eager to not be behind the wheel. Their adventures were great, and it was more fun than he figured either of them were expecting. It also took them three weeks, most of which Tony spent driving in some fashion, whether it was on the highway or navigating the little side streets of the places they were visiting. Despite the house being completely empty, it was nice to walk in somewhere and finally feel settled. He insisted on carrying Peter over the threshold of their home, regardless of the fact that they weren’t married, and he wasn’t the woman, thank you very much. Tony couldn’t help the huge grin that played across his face when Peter pulled him into a kiss, the younger man still tight in Tony’s arms bridal style. “It’s kind of perfect though, isn’t it?” Peter broke their kiss just long enough to get the words out – Tony’s favorite brown eyes alive, lit with passion and nerves and want and excitement.

That first night on the floor of their brand-new house was one of the best Tony could remember spending with Peter. Fatigue and tiredness fueled love making that was soft and sweet – Tony realizing that there was no need to rush, that now that they were home, they had all this time of their hands. Grown-up responsibilities were cake compared to the thought of what unlimited time with Peter Parker could give him. And when they were done, Peter slid their fingers together, Tony’s left hand tight in Peter’s right. “Do you want to be my husband, Tony Stark?” Tony sucked in a breath and turned his head, eyes wide. The dopey look on Pete’s face spoke of total sincerity and for a moment, Tony let himself soak that in. The most amazing person in the world wanted to marry him – wanted to keep him forever. Leaning forward, Tony pressed his lips to Peter’s nose, the touch lingering. “You bet your cute ass I do. Tony Parker-Stark has a nice ring to it.”

From that point on, life became about getting everything together. Their house, their jobs, and ultimately – their marriage. There weren’t too many surprised people looking back at them when they FaceTimed everyone to let them in on the news. Tony chuckled at Bucky’s “about damn time” and Peter colored when Natasha asked how good the celebratory sex was. It was hard to not be excited when Tony could feel everyone else’s joy for them. It was pretty easy to get lost in the bliss of what having Peter Parker as a partner was like, and the beautiful freedom of working for himself and himself alone. Things were good, and Tony tried to cling to every single piece of that goodness that he could.

The next time Tony looked up from the happy little bubble he was living in, another year had past and they were quickly approaching their wedding date. It was not very surprising, how easy it’d been to plan a wedding with Peter by his side. A small venue outside of the hustle and bustle of the city caught their eye early on and they snatched it up while they could. The place was small and intimate, on the right side of casual – the perfect representation of who Tony and Peter were together. Tony got his way with casual suits, his a light grey with a soft linen white shirt underneath and Peter’s a contrasting dark navy with the same white shirt to match. They didn’t sweat the small stuff and let it all come together.

At least, that’s what Tony thought, anyway.

Then, the coronavirus hit and everything about regular life came to a screeching halt. One week before they were set to get married, Tony got a call from the venue letting him know they were closing and could not guarantee a date that they’d be open again. To say he felt a little gutted was an understatement. Their entire group of friends took the week off to help Tony and Peter put the final touches together for the big day. While he got the call, Steve and Bruce were working on the labels for the small bottles of whiskey they were giving as favors for the guests. Watching the news, the past week kept Tony on edge, though he tried not to show it – he did all the things Peter asked. It seemed as if they were going to keep putting things together until there was no reason not to anymore. When Tony told him about the venue, Peter fell into the loop of Tony’s arms and let himself have a breakdown moment – their friends be damned.

Things got a little worse the next day when shit started to really break down in the city – the virus count was steadily climbing, and they were officially on a stay at home order. There weren’t better people to be stuck inside with, Tony knew that. It just hurt a little – knowing how close they’d come to actually getting married, to having that very group of people stand by their side as Tony finally got to say his vows to Peter and make the bond between them a permanent thing. Peter’s hands constantly grabbing for him or his sad eyes always looking to connect with Tony’s spoke volumes – the man just as distraught about the missed opportunity. In the craziness, it felt silly to be so down about a wedding – Peter was still healthy and safe, that should’ve been enough.

But – it wasn’t. After a mad rush to get groceries and enough supplies to take care of six adults for a while, Tony found Peter wrapped up in the comforter on their bed, his head somewhere in the jungle of all the pillows they kept there. “You doing alright, Petey?” Tony asked softly. He kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed behind Peter, his hands reaching until he could pull the other man closer. His lips pressed against his fiancé’s forehead without a thought, the man turning at the contact. “Don’t pretend like you’re not just as strung out. We were supposed to get married tomorrow. I couldn’t wait to see that ring on your finger,” Peter’s words were a little hard to make out, his face was still pressed against the pillow. Tony managed, though, and pulled him a little closer, his lips pressing a string of kisses against any of the skin he could reach. The tactile movement gave him a couple moments to think, his brain on overdrive – an idea finally coming to him.

“Why don’t we get married tomorrow, anyway? Natasha is ordained, she was going to do the ceremony. Let’s just – do it.” Tony sat up a little, his arms still tight around Peter’s middle. He could see the cogs turning in Peter’s head the second he put the idea out into the air. “The people in this house are the only ones that truly matter to me, Pete. I could care less about everything else – all I need is you. And someone to sign the marriage license,” Tony added as an after-thought. “There’s no reason why we can’t still get married tomorrow, baby.” He added a kiss to his last statement, the press of his lips against Peter’s a silent promise. “I guess we’re getting married tomorrow,” Peter replied with a laugh, his smile covering his cheeks – the sight of it for the first time in a few days lighting Tony’s heart on fire.

It didn’t take much effort to get the group on board with what they had in mind. Instead of walking down the aisle at the small venue, Peter would meet Tony at the bottom of their stairs. And instead of feasting on beef and brisket sliders, Steve and Bucky were going to put together a breakfast feast. It wasn’t the big thing he imagined being able to give Peter – what he felt the man he loved deserved. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling a little excited, no matter what got them there, Peter was going to be his husband - and there was no other way he could think of spending the rest of his days. He wanted Peter to have all of his time, wanted to know the feeling of losing his mind because of the man for as long he’d have him.

The early part of the next day flew by in a flash. Tony, Steve, and Bruce spent most of the day putting together the backyard of the house. They strung up white fairy lights around the perimeter of the fence to match the awning of the porch. Tony mowed the grass and etched around the fence, determined to make the slushy feel of winter disappear from the yard. The day was luckily not calling for snow, or stupidly cold temperatures, so they’d be able to enjoy some of the evening outside in the beauty of a crisp New York night. They moved all of the wooden furniture to the edge of the porch to make a small square of space where the six of them could dance to the playlist Peter spent a couple of months meticulously putting together.

Before Tony knew it, he was getting himself into his suit – the grey of it making his pale skin and dark hair really stand out. He put a little extra fuss to his hair and even let Steve trim up the sides of his beard that he couldn’t see – Tony wanted to look perfect. With the look pieced together, Tony glanced in the mirror. The cut of the jacket fit his shoulders perfectly and led down to his trim waist. The pants were cut right above his ankle, his socks with Peter’s face on them just barely visible. He laughed when Bruce presented them both with a pair the night before, they were the perfect thing to break up the simplicity. Stepping back, Tony nodded at his reflection, his nervous hands running through his hair – fingers just conscious enough not to ruin the rugged look he was going for. Steve and Bruce flanked his side in the mirror for a moment, the three of them looking smooth – like they were heading to the party of the century, instead of the living room of Tony’s house. Wrapping his arms around them both, Tony couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Thanks for being here, fellas. Means a lot.” Neither answered, they simply squished Tony between them.

The second Tony saw Peter start to walk down the stairs, he knew it wouldn’t have mattered where they did this – his soon-to-be husband was an absolute vision. The navy looked good on him and the smile that spread his cheeks from ear to ear completed the look – the happiness radiating from him something Tony knew he needed to work hard to keep around. The man was stunning, and it took Tony a second to realize tears were tracking down his cheeks. He couldn’t think about anything other than the fact that with each step he took, Peter got that much closer to becoming Tony’s husband. Their gazes locked, glistening chocolate brown meeting the lighter honey color of Tony’s. Peter’s pace visibly sped up after that, his smile stretching impossibly further.

Peter’s hand slipped seamlessly into the crook of Tony’s elbow and they took the final few steps together – Nat was set up at the far side of the room, the sliding glass doors behind her letting in natural light. Steve and Bruce were set up on Tony’s side and Bucky on Peter’s, the whole crew huddled together for the most important day of their best friends’ lives. Stopping in front of Nat, Tony turned until he was looking directly at Pete, his hand holding the other’s tightly in his own. They didn’t break eye contact – not even when Nat started to talk.

“It’s a little unconventional, this whole wedding. Which, I think is pretty perfect for Tony and Peter. Since I’ve known them, they’ve been the weirdos of the group. They always bring off the wall movies to movie night – and don’t even get me started on the boardgames they pull out when it’s their night to host. In all of my life, I’ve never experienced a couple who walked together in their weirdness – but these two do. Tony owns his love for making things blow up and Peter will not hesitate to talk to you about how many times he’s gotten his hands stuck to the desk because of his latest experiment. There are no two humans that deserve each other more than Tony and Peter do. It’s a true gift to be a part of that tangible love between them – and I can’t wait to see what the future holds. Like this day, like the two of them – their love is unconventional,” Nat’s voice was bright and confident, her eyes roaming between them. “Pete, you’re up.” She finished in a soft tone, everyone in the room now looking at the youngest of them all.

“Tony, I didn’t expect you. You blew into the coffee shop that day and I haven’t been the same. There are so many things about you that drive me insane. You’re bad at picking up your socks, you leave your whiskey glasses all over the place, you never sleep, and you’re always working. You’re irritating and you know it – which makes it even worse. But, without all of that, you wouldn’t be the most caring, lovable asshole I’ve ever met. You’re my strength in the storm, my reason in times of chaos, and the only person on this entire planet I’d pick up after. You love the same way you live – loudly, hard, and with everything you have. I’m lucky that I got your attention and that you haven’t left me alone since. I promise to keep you level and put you to bed when you need it. I can’t wait to watch your hair gray and spend the rest of my life by your side. I’m stuck with you and I wouldn’t change that for the world. I love you, Tony Stark,” Peter’s eyes jumped from the small vow book to Tony’s every few seconds – his voice getting more and more watery the longer he talked.

Tony wiped a hand under his eye, Peter’s words making everyone in the room cry. Sucking in a breath, he chuckled when Nat arched a brow at him, her eyes big and wet, too. “Good luck doing better than that, Tony.”

“I think it’s funny – how much you didn’t expect me. I dreaded heading into that Ethics class every week and then all of the sudden – I’m listening to this voice impart such wisdom. Then I saw you and it was pretty much over for me. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, and you have this way of making everyone else see things your way. You’re stubborn, and when you want something, there’s no persuading you otherwise. I can’t wait to argue with you about time in the lab and whose turn it is to do the dishes. You’re the world to me and I’ll take all that comes with that. Pete, you’re everything I didn’t know I was looking for and all that I’ve ever wanted. Our brains together can do anything and today is just the first day of that journey. I promise to keep you safe, happy, and under piles of Legos. I wouldn’t change loving you, hating you, wanting you – for anything. I love you, Petey.”

When Nat finally got around to telling them to kiss, Tony gripped Peter’s cheeks and pulled him close. Their lips met in a kiss that felt different – despite Tony having tasted the other’s lips at least a million times by then. He let a soft groan slip before pulling away – his cheeks a matching shade to Peter’s. Turning around, Tony brought their joined hands to his mouth, his lips brushing the white gold band now settled there.

Later, sitting around the porch with bellies full of delicious breakfast foods, Peter sat in his lap and wrapped his arms around his neck, the position reminiscent of many times before. “Hello husband,” Peter said against his lips, the man’s eyes bright with booze and happiness. Tony pressed another kiss to his lips before answering, “Hey, Mr. Parker-Stark.” He dropped his face into the crease of Pete’s neck, breathing out a sigh of relief. It felt good to finally have his husband in his arms – the day suddenly feeling so long without this closeness. “Now you’re really stuck with me,” Tony rumbled against the skin of Peter’s neck. His lips lingering with each word. He felt Peter’s hands frame his face and pull until they were looking at each other.

“Happily so, husband of mine.”

[aboyandhisstarship]

the hunger games or the quillan games which one is worse for joe average? which games are worse etc

oh man i have spent a truly ungoldy amount of time thinking about this as a kid. 

but before we can have this discussion they need to be a few concessions. 

1. pretty much everything about  Quillan we know is from Bobby’s experice as Challenger Red, Nevva Winters and Saint Dane. Bobby was never able to talk to pretty much anyone else about Quillan they shut him down real quick. 

2 one of those sources is Saint Dane, who is an insane lying time traveler 

Spoiler's for the Quillan games under the cut: 

the other is Nevva winters who we find out is in league with Saint Dane and got another Traveler killed, and betrayed Bobby the people of Quillan and pushed the territory into chaos. so we must take all we learn from them with a small grain of salt. as they were manipulating Bobby into a controlled outcome. 

another thing worth noting is I only ever read the hunger games back in ninth grade (freshman high school) so it’s been a minute and I have not gotten that far in my Pendragon series re read for the Camp camp AU So I may be mistaken on  some detail's. 

alright with that out of the way let’s hop right into it. 

(spoiler's for at least the Rivers of Zadaa, the Quillan games and maybe more of the pendragon series)

Quillan is the seventh territory Saint Dane attacks. he is stabbed by Bobby after he kills Loor on Zadaa, he hops into the flume and sends Bobby a taunting rhyming message through the flume to come to Quillan.

The flume is in the wall of a warehouse so large that Bobby can’t find his way out for at least a couple of hours and the Quigs are robot spiders (it’s possible that Quillan may not even have animals anymore?) 

one thing Bobby is made a challenger because Nevva left him challenger clothes' by the flume, Katniss becomes a tribute to save her sister. this is another big difference between our main characters, Bobby has been running around the universe trying to stop saint Dane for years. he has a mixture of Zadaa and Denduron warrior training, to put him in the context of the hunger games...Bobby is a career.

that is not to say of course that Bobby would enter the games of either world on purpose. god no he hates death games as much as the next guy. but he is in a unique position  to experice the games differently. 

speaking of lets talk about the fundamental difference between the Quillan games and the Hunger Games.

1. Hunger games have a winner 

ok now the term Winner is pretty subjective. but in the technical sense there is usually a single winner of the Hunger Games, one person survives and is rewarded with the “perks” of winning.  on the other side Bobby straight up asks 13(?) his Dado butler if any Challenger's ever retire, and the Dado answers no, they all die playing the games. so the Quillan games have no winners (except for Blok but more on them later) 

2. There is no government, the World of Quillan is run by evil Walmart 

pretty much what it says on the Tin by the time Bobby shows up Blok runs the entire place, or at least it is claimed to be that way by Nevva and Saint Dane. they are un reliable sources for sure but  we do say the board members acting as judges and governors in cases of failure to preform to the company's liking. and we do see the punishment for not being able to sell a large enough volume of jackets in summer is death...which while a bit dramatic leads us to the final major difference between Quillan and Panem 

3. The Purpose of the Quillan Games are a tool to give the people of Quillan hope for a better life, while the Hunger games, are a truly  baffling  attempt to control an enslaved populace

honestly if Panem was a territory I would say the whole hunger games idea was Saint Danes to cause the up rising, because damn the hunger games are a god awful idea. oh you don't want a group of people to rebel...I know lets take there children by force and force them to fight to the death every year! oh and let’s make them watch!  yea not a recipe for success, not to mention the fact that they gave one of those districts nukes! (the capital are damn geniuses I swear) a rebellion is inevitable. on Quillan the rebellion is also inevitable but not because of the games (ok it’s not just the games on Panem, but the Hunger games DO NOT HELP)  on Quillan the rebellion's is inevitable because of Mister Pop and there suffering. but back on topic, the People of Quillan bet on the games in the hopes of winning extra food, money a better job house etc, you know stuff that makes life suck less. but since just about everyone is dirt floor poor. they don’t have much to bet with, except...there lives! again sorry a bit melodramatic, but also true we see on several occasions people who either lose the stand alone arcade games or the proper televised games and are hauled off by Dado’s to some unknown fate. Nevva says they are either enslaved as unpaid labor or worse, forced to work in the reactors which are impossible to survive. naturally there is some betting on the Hunger games, but it is not the poor and down trodden doing it in hope of a better life. it is mostly capital dicks being capital dicks. 

4: Challengers are “better taken care of” before they die.

a man must be healthy before he can be excuted. same basic idea, since there are no winners in the Quillan games (and they are not called the Hunger games...really flexed your legs with that one huh the capital, you guys came up with that in what 10 maybe 15 minutes) they as Leebarge claims are treated like royalty, and it is true they are well fed and given nice, if clown filled rooms to live in and they throw a party every night. a party that is already pretty hefty but even more so on the days when someone doesn’t die. the tributes generally spend next to no time with each other before the games and are to busy trying not to starve to death and killing each other to throw a party during the games proper. 

but now that we have discussed the key differences let’s talk where they are on the same footing. 

1: the “Prizes”

both games have the same Prize for “winning” I put Winning in quotes because as already discussed you don’t actually win the Quillan games  you just don't lose for a while. if you win the hunger games, you become super doper dummy rich and your entire district gets more food for the entire year. oh yea that will stop people wanting to lynch you with your entrails. then again what you get for being a challenger is way way worse. according to 13 the Robo Butler, Challenger's are chosen by Veego kidnapped from there families and forced to compete, if they win there families get food, and if they lose. and they will sooner or later there family get the ashes.

2. The rise up

both Books have people  rise up after a big scale tournament, there is one big difference...Quillan is betrayed by Nevva Winter the Dado’s destroy Mr. Pop  the last shred of Non Blok controlled Cultural history on Quillan and Saint Dane has his second territory, and Bobby almost dies for nothing.  the Hunger games if I recall correctly it actually works and things suck a lot less...hopefully anyway. 

Conclusion:

this is a difficult issue to tackle but I am going to say, Quillan is worse for Joe Average. having to bet your life for a chance for food is a bit worse because it is only the illusion of hope as Saint Dane claims.  the games them selves...depends on the year but I will say Hunger games, mostly because if I recall all challengers are about Bobby’s age or a bit older 16- 18, there are no 8 year old's being forced to fight to the death. but yea other then that I would put the two death games on Par. 

do you agree? let’s discuss! thanks for reading!

[satonthelotuspier]

A Very Untamed New Year

A gift for New Year, a small trip back to Cultivation, Wyoming to check on our boy Wei Wuxian. Follows from A Very Hallmark Untamed Christmas.

Happy New Year to everyone from the UK (in about 4 hours)

When Wei Wuxian woke up the cold air in the room soon made him pull his face under the bed covers.

At the slight movement he felt the man beside him stir; arms tightening around him possessively with a softly questioning, “Wei Ying?”

“I’m here Lan Zhan” he murmured sleepily, melting into the embrace and snuggling up against Lan Wangji’s body as closely as he could.

There was a part of Wei Wuxian who acknowledged it was sweet but that deeper, darker part of him was disturbed and guilty that Lan Wangji was still so unsure about Wei Wuxian’s commitment to the relationship his first waking thought was to check he was there.

All he could do was set the other’s mind at rest over time by being here.

Lan Wangji stroked his back gently, he always touched Wei Wuxian like he was the most precious, fragile thing he’d ever come across. To think that this amazing man had held love for Wei Wuxian in his heart for thirteen years and longer just blew his mind; he certainly didn’t think he was worth it.

Eventually Lan Wangji sat up and Wei Wuxian grumbled, “It’s too cold Lan Zhan, can’t we stay here today?”

“I have to go in to work” Lan Wangji turned to him and stroked a soft, soothing thumb over his eyebrow, “I’ll make you breakfast”

“I could make you breakfast while you shower” Wei Wuxian offered, and Lan Wangji couldn’t stop the slight freezing of his features. “Lan Zhan!” he exclaimed in shocked amusement, “I can just not put hot sauce in your eggs this time. You’d think I poisoned you”

“Yes, you’d think” Lan Wangji agreed with the tiniest smile as he leant down to place a soft kiss on Wei Wuxian’s naked shoulder.

“Even you tease me now” he complained in feigned exasperation, pushing him away playfully, “Go on then, get up, Mr Responsibility”

***

Jiang Yanli had invited the whole family over for dinner that evening, so it was agreed Lan Wangji would meet him there. In the meantime Wei Wuxian had to start putting some plans into place about moving his life from New York back to Cultivation and therefore he had a lot to arrange.

They shared a kiss at Lan Wangji’s door.

“Drive carefully” Lan Wangji ordered him, throwing his car a nasty look, “You’ll need to get something more suitable for the weather”

“I know, I know, leave it with me. Now get to work Sheriff” he pushed Lan Wangji in the direction of his own car and drove himself out to Lotus Pier.

He wanted to get everything in New York sorted as quickly as possible as he would need to sit down in January and start plotting out his next novel, and usually once he started the plotting he became engrossed and a lot of life went on the back burner. He paused as he pulled up outside the ranch house to wonder how their lives would mesh once he did start writing. Lan Wangji had only really spent time with him while he was between books which meant he could fit their relationship around Lan Wangji’s working life; when he did start writing his schedule went haywire. he could quite happily spend days living on coffee and fumes and naps and then blow out on a whole day in bed. He supposed that would be when the real litmus test for their fledgling relationship would be.

At lunchtime Jiang Cheng appeared and they ate soup and sandwiches. Jiang Cheng was unusually distracted and barely acknowledged half of what Wei Wuxian said to him. He had been a little distracted on Christmas Day too but the general fuss and craziness of them all being together under one roof, and Jin Ling’s extreme excitement had deflected a lot of the attention from him.

Yes, he had been a bit of a crappy brother with his absence for the last several years (most of which had been beyond his control and to protect his sister), but he still knew his brother.

“What’s going on, Jiang Cheng?” he asked as the other loaded the plates into the dishwasher.

The man jumped at his name and almost dropped the crockery.

“What? Nothing’s going on, what do you even mean?” he made sure his back was firmly to Wei Wuxian.

Honestly Wei Wuxian didn’t know whether at this stage it was worth pushing Jiang Cheng for an answer.

Probably not. Ninety nine percent of dealing with his brother’s emotional distance was knowing when to push him. Too soon and it would cause a nuclear explosion of temper, too late and he’d just lock his emotions down like Fort Knox. There was a very slim “I’m willing to talk about this” window and Wei Wuxian judged he wasn’t in that window yet.

***

Dinner at the Jin household was a lively affair. Jin Ling was in his element with his uncles there as new people to convince to play with his new Christmas toys with him.

Jiang Yanli bustled around filling drinks, checking on Jin Ling, throwing random hugs out, chatting to everyone; completely in her element surrounded by her family in it’s entirety again.

It was an enjoyable evening and as they sat around the dinner table conversation flowed  around Wei Wuxian, he chipped in where he wanted, let it pass over him where he didn’t and he was just so happy to be part of this again.

He was casually playing footsie with a stoic Sheriff Lan under the table when Jin Zixuan dropped the bombshell.

“Have you seen Luo Qingyang yet now she’s back in town?” he froze for a moment as the news took him completely by surprise. It was so sudden he didn’t really have time to examine how it made him feel, except worried about how Lan Wangji would react as he sought out the other’s eyes in some odd kind of guilt.

He didn’t know why he felt like that, he had nothing to feel guilty about, Lan Wangji knew he’d been in a long term relationship with Mian Mian.

The other’s face was a careful study in neutrality, which told him absolutely nothing. And didn’t ease his worry or guilt.

He realised not just Lan Wangji but the whole table was looking at him, awaiting his answer. He turned to Jin Zixuan and gave a little shake of his head.

“I didn’t know she was, it would normally have been the year her parents went out to New York. I’ll have to get in touch with her”

Jin Zixuan would have heard about it because Mian Mian’s mother worked with him at the County Attorney’s office. Still, he wished he’d had a little advance warning so he hadn’t been caught on the raw with his entire family watching.

Jiang Yanli turned the conversation on to other topics then and the unnatural silence dissipated.

Jin Zixuan pulled him aside later as they prepared to leave, “I’m sorry about dropping that on you, I genuinely thought you’d have heard from Mian Mian, Yanli said you keep in touch”

“Don’t worry about it, we do talk from time to time, she didn’t mention coming home for Christmas but in fairness she doesn’t know I’m moving back here; knowing me she probably though I’d be back in New York already by now”

***

He and Lan Wangji left together although Wei Wuxian had plans to meet Nie Huaisang for a quick drink at The Lakeside.

He was tempted to cancel them because he was concerned the Mian Mian thing was a big issue. Although he had no idea why.

“Shall I come with you?” he asked tentatively, and Lan Wangji looked at him, a slight trace of confusion on his face.

“Aren’t you going out for a drink?” he asked pulling his gloves on against the bitter winter air.

“I was, I can cancel if you want? Or you could come?”

“Wei Ying, why would you need to cancel? Just go see Nie Huaisang. Are you going back to Lotus Pier afterwards?”

“If you want me to” his voice sounded pathetically small even to his own ears.

“I don’t, stay with me. I’d worry about you driving out there with that unsuitable car of yours”

“OK, I won’t be too late” he leaned forward to press a kiss against Lan Wangji’s mouth, and the other accepted it, so he took that as a positive.

***

As he did have to drive in the snow he stuck to one beer, which Nie Huaisang had ordered for him when he arrived. He’d fired off a quick text to Mian Mian in the parking lot, figuring he’d better pull the band-aid on that one quick.

Huaisang was a little tipsy when he arrived which equalled merry and extra sassy.

“Well look here its Wei Wuxian” he purred as Wei Wuxian slid into the booth beside him, “You are looking fine my dear, dear friend. It seems regular dicking downs agree with you. We must thank our local LEO”

His brother, bar owner Nie Mingjue threw Wei Wuxian a helpless shrug from behind the bar as he noticed Wei Wuxian’s look at him.

“I’m really not sure Lan Zhan would appreciate your gesture” he said mockingly and Huaisang snorted out a laugh.

“I’m damn sure he wouldn’t” he traced the rim of his margarita glass with one black-painted nail. Wei Wuxian was pretty sure the only reason margarita was a thing at The Lakeside was because Nie Huaisang drank them and Nie Mingjue was the owner. He was also pretty sure Nie Huaisang was the only one in town who drank them. “But that’s just me being a jealous bitch, my supplier is withholding at the moment”

“Your supplier?” he smelled gossip Nie Huaisang probably wouldn’t tell him fully sober, seeing as he hadn’t mentioned anything about either being attracted to someone or dating recently, “Why didn’t I know about this?”

Nie Huaisang giggled and lifted the margarita glass to take a drink, “Because I can’t tell you that your brother and I fucked, can I? You’d go crazy”

Wei Wuxian spat out his beer and it was only as Nie Huaisang saw him desperately trying to mop it up with napkins that he realised what he’d said.

“Fuck” his face drained of all colour and he tried to get up to escape but Wei Wuxian caught his wrist and held him in his seat.

“Oh no you don’t you little fox. You’d better just come clean” he ordered, “The cat’s already out of the bag, so tell me or I go ask Jiang Cheng right now and tell him how I know”

“No you can’t do that to me bro, he’d kill me” it was Huaisang’s turn to catch hold of Wei Wuxian’s wrists then, holding onto him as if he thought the other might genuinely just get up and go talk to Jiang Cheng.

“So talk, how long has this been going on?”

“Just once, on Christmas Eve. He hasn’t even replied to my texts. Asshole” Nie Huaisang, sweet little gossip baby, had trouble controlling his mouth at the best of times; now he was tipsy it was like a stream of information.

“I didn’t even realise you liked him”

“Wei Wuxian, you sweet, innocent child, your brother is hot, and he has muscles. And a perfect ass-”

“Shut up!” he clamped his hands over his ears; he didn’t want to know how attractive anyone found Jiang Cheng because it was his brother and his brother definitely didn’t have sex. Any kind of sex. Neither did his sister; Jin Ling had literally come from the stork. He’d hear of nothing else. He removed his hands once assured of the other’s silence.

“Do you want to see him again?” he asked out of curiosity.

“What I want doesn’t seem to matter at the moment, as I said, he’s ignoring me, so it’s academic” and Huaisang genuinely did look upset by that fact; which gave Wei Wuxian all the answer he needed.

But despite his initial reaction of wanting to stick his nose in it struck him now that it wasn’t fair of him. His brother’s and his best friend’s love life were their own to deal with as they saw fit, whether it be together or not.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have demanded the details, its really none of my business. And I’m sorry Jiang Cheng is ghosting you, that’s kinda shitty of him. Just...remember it’s Jiang Cheng, OK? He’s always dealt with things in his own crazy way” he tried to offer sympathy and a little hope, Jiang Cheng really did retreat before he advanced in all things.

They changed the subject and chatted about other things but it was subdued and he could tell Huaisang was distracted now, and possibly feeling the effects of those margaritas as he started yawning.

“I should go, I promised Lan Zhan I wouldn’t be too late. You look like you need bed too” he hugged his maudlin friend and walked out to his car, confident the half beer he’d managed wouldn’t affect his reflexes behind the wheel.

He checked his phone before he turned the engine on.

A missed call and a text back from Mian Mian asking him to call her when he saw the message. It was still before ten so he deemed that to be acceptable hours to a city dweller like Mian Mian and returned her call.

She picked up at the third ring, “Yuan Dao” he felt his mouth soften into a smile as she greeted him.

“Hey Mian Mian, what’s wrong?”

“Can you come over? I really need to talk to you, as soon as possible”

“Well of course. How about tomorrow? Wouldn’t it disturb your parents if I came over now?”

“They’re staying over at relatives in Jackson tonight, now would be better”

“Alright, give me a few minutes then” he hung up and stared at his phone, torn. What the hell did he say to Lan Wangji? Hey bae, I’m dashing off to see my ex, the one I’ve literally just heard is back in town and I’m driving over there right now in the middle of the night but I promise it’s not for sex?

He dropped his head to the steering wheel in frustration.

Honesty here was probably the best policy, but also he felt like it was dangerous as they hadn’t discussed the matter yet.

It wasn’t ten o'clock yet, it was probably something really quick and he’d be able to get home to Lan Wangji before he was even expected.

He put his mobile away and drove the short distance to Mian Mian’s parent’s house. As he pulled up he saw a curtain twitch across the street, and honestly that was his big city brain to blame, of course this was a small town where everyone got up in your business. He fired off the text he’d thought he might avoid to Lan Wangji, then walked up the path to the porch.

Mian Mian wanted to talk to me, I’ll be back as soon as I can be x

Mian Mian had been waiting and opened the door before he could ring.

He felt the phone vibrate in his jeans pocket as he reached her and could only blame how distracted he was thinking about what Lan Wangji had replied with for missing a very key piece of visual information until they’d hugged, Mian Mian had kissed his cheek and closed the door behind him.

She was dressed in comfy warm pyjamas and big thick socks, and was ever so slightly pregnant!

He felt his knees wobble, his head spin and the half beer he’d had rise up the back of his throat. She moved over to catch his arm when she saw how close he was to passing out, “Yuan Dao, what’s wrong?” she guided him to the sofa; he collapsed onto it as his knees finally gave out, and she noticed his eyes were stuck on her small but obvious baby bump. “Seriously? Did you fail biology or something you nitwit?” she patted his cheek with a short sharp slap, “We broke up 8 months ago, if this was yours I’d be the size of a house side now. Also I might have said something to you about it before now if you were the father”

His stomach settled a little but he felt the need to confirm, “It’s not mine?”

“No, it’s not yours. But I figured you needed to know. I genuinely didn’t know you were still in town. I thought you’d have been back in New York for weeks by now” she patted his arm, “Can I get you a drink? A coffee or something?”

“No thanks. Listen, Mian Mian, I think your mother’s been keeping some of the town gossip from you. About me specifically. I’m moving back here. I’ve been sorting removals for the New York apartment today actually. And-I’m seeing someone”

“Lets park the moving back to Dullsville USA for a second can we, because what the fuck? But you’re seeing someone? That I am pleased to hear. Is it Wen Qing? You and Wen Ning were always close so I could see that happening”

“It’s Lan Zhan, Mian Mian” she paused for a few seconds, and he feared it was judgement, despite the fact she’d always known he identified as bisexual, but it was just because he’d not referred to him as Lan Wangji and it took her a little time to work out who he was talking about.

Her squeal could have shattered glass.

“Oh. My. God. You and Lan Wangji. That quiet little pretty boy who had the biggest crush on your for forever?”

“What the hell? Did everyone in the world know he liked me but me?”

“Of course, there just ain’t no fixin’ stupid” Mian Mian mocked him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

���Are you kidding? Tell my bi boyfriend the guy who’s three times prettier than I am liked him? Do you listen to the crazy that comes out of your mouth sometimes?” she laughed, delighted, “But seriously that was his business, not mine. So you’re moving back?”

He nodded and took her hands, “Yes, I need to be near my family. I didn’t know how much I’d missed them until I couldn’t avoid it anymore” he stroked a thumb across her knuckles soothingly, “But yeah, enough about me, you have some rather momentous news of your own”

She put a protective hand on the small but obvious bump.

“I’m sorry I asked you over here so late, but when I heard you were still in town I wanted you to know about this from me and not some gossip. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I was honestly worried it would upset you. I know we parted amicably enough but you weren’t expecting it”

That was the truth, when Mian Mian had said that though she loved him they just weren’t what she wanted anymore it had been very difficult, it had come out of the blue as far as he was concerned, and although he’d tried to be supportive and reasonable she had hurt him, even though that hadn’t been her intention.

“I’m not upset. If you’re happy Mian Mian, that’s enough for me” and he truly meant it.

Her dark eyes softened and she hugged him close, “Yuan Dao, honestly you’re too pure for this world. Do you mind me talking about it?”

“Of course not, tell me”

“So I’ve been dating someone, a commodities broker. We didn’t plan to get pregnant, it was faulty protection. But we’re trying to make it work. And I do like him, I think it’s going well?”

“I’m honestly happy for you Mian Mian” she told him more about her new partner and what she’d been up to since they’d met last time. Then she pulled on his sleeve.

“I think that boyfriend of yours might think I’ve kidnapped you if you don’t go soon, it’s getting pretty late” she told him stifling a yawn.

“And Mian Mian is tired” he laughed and got to his feet.

“Yes, Mian Mian is tired and Yuan Dao has to return to the one who’s yearning for him” she agreed and walked with him to the door.

“So cheesy” he shook his head as they paused on the doorstep to exchange a hug and he kissed her cheek.

“That’s what I thought when you used your killer pickup line on me” she stood rubbing a soothing hand on her belly, she was the first to notice the police cruiser a little further down the street, “You got a police escort?” she asked in confusion; which Wei Wuxian shared as he turned to look at what she meant.

It all became clear when Lan Wangji and one of his young deputies Xiao Xingchen escorted one of Mian Mian’s neighbours to the car.

“Drinking again” she clicked her teeth in irritation, then waved him off, “Go on, home, it’s too cold to be stood out here with you, drive carefully, at least you know with Lan Wangji going back to the station you’ve no need to rush into his arms”

“You’re hilarious” he rolled his eyes and walked back to his car as she agreed and shut the door behind him.

He arrived at his car as the Sheriff and his Deputy had secured their guest, Lan Wangji saw him and gave him the briefest of nods before climbing into the cruiser.

The first thing he did was check his phone for the text that had been at the back of his mind since it had first arrived.

Lan Wangji had replied with only “Mn” which was basically his version of OK. Lan Wangji was so undemonstrative with his feelings Wei Wuxian really had no read on him.

***

He was showered and dressed and making coffee the next morning when Lan Wangji finally arrived home.

He looked tired.

“Do you want a coffee or do you want to go straight to sleep?” he asked. It wouldn’t be fair of him to try talking about anything this morning when the other looked ready to fall asleep on his feet.

“A coffee please, Wei Ying” he requested and sat at the kitchen table. Wei Wuxian brought both coffees over and sat down too. “How is Luo Qingyang?”

Wei Wuxian met his eyes, but of course he couldn’t read anything in them. “She’s doing well. Her new partner couldn’t come back with her as he was flying to Europe to visit family. They’re expecting a baby”

“Mn, I saw last night, she’s about four months along perhaps? How do you feel?”

He tilted his head at the question, “About Mian Mian, her new partner and baby? Honestly happy for her. Maybe a few months ago it would have cut me, but we’ve both moved on now and that’s good. I’ll always care for her, we were together for fifteen years, but we’re both finding our way in new relationships”

This time he did hear the soft exhale of breath, see Lan Wangji close his eyes briefly in relief.

“You were jealous!” he exclaimed in delight.

He actually squealed when Lan Wangji got to his feet, caught his wrist and pulled him firmly in the direction of the bedroom.

He was pushed down onto the bed and pinned beneath Lan Wangji’s body, but of course he didn’t go quietly, doing a lot of wriggling and complaining.

Lan Wangji caught his chin and held his face still, “Wei Ying, of course I’m jealous of the person who had you for fifteen years that I didn’t. It makes me insane if I think about it.  But now, Wei Ying, you are mine”

“Yours” he breathed the word against Lan Wangji’s lips as the other bent to kiss him. It was a kiss of pure possession, as if Lan Wangji had funnelled all his feelings into that one contact.

Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours later when Lan Wangji pulled back briefly to let them catch their breaths.

“I think maybe you should remind me I’m yours, just to be safe” Wei Wuxian teased as his fingers went to the buttons of Lan Wangji’s uniform shirt.

“Mn”

***

He made his way back out to Lotus Pier later that day when Lan Wangji went back on duty. Unfortunately, due to...circumstances...the Sheriff hadn’t caught up on much sleep.

“Honestly, how are you not in Jail for public lasciviousness?” Jiang Cheng demanded in irritation.

“Uh...all my lascivious activities are undertaken in the privacy of the home” he went to the fridge to grab a can of soda.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re wandering around looking like that; he might as well have fucked you in the town square for how obvious it is”

Wei Wuxian shrugged and looked at Jiang Cheng calculatingly.

“You did a much better job of hiding your little liaison” he poked and Jiang Cheng stiffened, his face flaming and his temper flaring.

“What? Has Nie Huaisang ever had a thought or action he didn’t tell you about afterwards? Fucking great”

“Listen Jiang Cheng, it’s your business and I dont want to stick my nose in too much, you’re an adult able to make his own decisions. Just don’t be a dick to him OK? I think he really likes you, so if you’re not interested tell him, don’t just ignore him. And try to let him down gently”

“You think he likes me? Did he say that?”

“Not directly, but he was pretty upset you were ghosting him so yeah, he wanted to see you again”

“Why?”

“A question we have all considered without answer” he mocked. “It’s your problem now though. I’ve said all I wanted you to hear”

“I think I like him” Jiang Cheng’s voice was unusually quiet and tentative.

Wei Wuxian threw the unopened can of soda to Jiang Cheng and retrieved another one, indicating they should sit at the kitchen table. He was going to have to be big brother and listen to Jiang Cheng. Apparently he had perfectly stumbled upon that window of “I’m prepared to talk about this”.

“OK, you don’t sound too sure”

“I wasn’t. I’m not. I’ve spent enough time chasing after Lan Xichen it’s got me confused. But I think I do”

“So date him, spend time together to find out. That’s kind of what dating is for. It’s a try before you buy right?”

“Do you think he’d want to date me? What if he just wants to be fuck buddies?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t pretend to know the mind of his friend. “Honestly if he does he’ll just tell you. And then you can make an informed decision on whether that’s something you want too or not. You both have voices, use them, instead of just sitting here thinking about it”

“I’ll think about it” Jiang Cheng mumbled and got up to walk away and Wei Wuxian just sighed.

***

The next few days passed in a whirl of social events and organising.

He managed to get Lan Wangji to agree to come with him to New York in early January to help pack up his apartment, as had he convinced Jiang Yanli to bring Jin Ling so they could have a few days of sightseeing too.

Then it was New Years Eve and they found themselves at the Lakeside for the countdown.

He dropped into the booth beside Lan Wangji who threw an arm over his shoulder as Wei Wuxian moved to sit flush against his side, taking the beer he was offered with his free hand.

“So is Cultivation going to implode when you step foot out of it?”

He shook his head, “No, only if brother and I both left at the same time. As long as one of us is here the old gods are appeased”

“I see” he grinned into the soft amber eyes and reached over to kiss him gently on the mouth. “I have a good feeling about next year” he said confidently leaning his head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder.

His brother and Nie Huaisang seemed to have come to some agreement, as he could see them off the other side of the dance floor in quite an involved kiss.

Honestly Jiang Cheng was lucky it was out of line of sight of the bar or he might have a very protective Nie Mingjue to deal with.

“Next year will be good, Wei Ying” Lan Wangji agreed as he leaned in to kiss Wei Wuxian as the countdown to midnight began.

[gwenbrightly]

Ninjago Christmas Fic #1 - Decorations

Ahhh, it’s that time of year when I speed write Christmas fics because it’s fun! Crossposted from ffnet. Takes place after MOTO.

“Let’s see what everyone was able to snag for the monastery,” Lloyd suggested enthusiastically. Having never celebrated Christmas in the monastery of spinjitzu before, the ninja had been horrified to discover that Wu hadn’t thought to invest in decorations for the holiday season. Not prone to giving up easily, they had spent several days searching high and low for trees, wreaths, lights, and anything else they could get their hands on.

“Ma and pa sent some lights they swear still work properly. Left most of em outside. There’s also a bunch of garlands that look like they’re in pretty decent shape. Perks of living in a junkyard, I guess. And uh, I think this used to be an angel?” Jay stated, holding up a sparkly hunk of metal with appendages shaped vaguely like wings. He glanced sideways at it, trying to decide if it was worth keeping.  

“I… can try to fix it later, if you want?” offered Kai, “I got a lot of practice with metalworking while Nya and I were visiting mom and dad yesterday. And the whole remaking the Golden Weapons thing probably helps too, heheh.”

His sister rolled her eyes at his self satisfied smirk. Jay nodded, handing Kai the mangled decoration.  

“If you think she’s savable, go for it!”

“Speaking of mom and dad, they gave us a box of Christmas ornaments and some other stuff, too.” Nya added holding up the blue orb with swirly designs she’d just grabbed from the uppermost layer of the cardboard box she was kneeling next to.  

“We couldda brought some tinsel, too, but we decided it wouldn’t be a good idea after last year…” she continued. They all shuddered.  

“Dad convinced the tree farm that sponsors the Royal Blacksmiths to sell him a tree for super cheap. He said he’d drop it off in a little bit.” Cole informed them, not wanting to dwell on the incident.

“Dude! That’s awesome!” Exclaimed Lloyd, his eyes lighting up. The others smiled. They’d never been able to have a live tree before. Zane nodded in agreement.  

“Indeed. I’m sure it will look lovely in the living room. I managed to locate a wreath my father built. It’s made mostly from old gears, and I know that’s not very traditional, but I’d like to put it up somewhere. If you don’t mind?”

“Of course, Zane. I’m sure we can find a good place for it.” Cole assured his friend. He understood what it was like to miss a family member during this time of year.  

“Yeah. I mean this place is huge. We need all the decorations we can get!” Kai reminded them.

“We had better get started, then.” Pixal interjected, eager to finally be celebrating the holidays without being confined to a screen (or her wonderful soulmate’s head) this year.

“Heck yeah! So where should we start?” asked Nya. They glanced around at the heaps of miscellaneous decorations, considering their options.  

“Maybe we should tackle the lights outside first? I’d rather do that before it gets too cold out.” proposed Jay. Although it had not yet snowed, the weather had been growing increasingly colder.

“I vote yes to that idea. It’s usually better to test anything the Walkers give us as soon as possible to avoid unnecessary explosions. No offense, Jay.” Cole said, giving the master of lightning an apologetic grin. Jay punched his shoulder lightly.

“None taken. We do tend to end up with... Surprises pretty often when ma and pa gift us stuff.”

“Okay, then. Outside it is. Just… try to keep the dangerous hijinks to a minimum? I don’t wanna worry Uncle Wu.” Lloyd told them, heading for the front door.  

The next hour was spent watching Jay zap each strand of lights or light up decoration with his powers as he tested them to see if they worked, waiting for the inevitable explosion. Surprisingly, they made it through 5 whole strands, two light up snowman, and a reindeer before coming across their first exploding decoration. No one could be sure if the shattering of every single bulb on the rainbow strand of lights was due to Jay’s parents tampering with the wires, or the master of lightning himself sending too much electricity into it, but the display of rainbow colored shards flying through the air was impressive to say the least. After cleaning up their mess and testing the remaining decorations, the group began the actual decorating part of the process. Pixal and Zane wrapped lights around the columns that lined the entrance to the monastery, creating elaborate patterns. Cole and Jay worked together to lift an ornate sleigh complete with reindeer onto the roof via airjitzu. Meanwhile, Nya simply tried to keep Lloyd and Kai from killing each other with additional decorations. Seeing her brother wrap the green ninja in lights, she cried, “Kai no!” in exasperation.  

“Cmon, sis! You’ve gotta admit he’d make a great Christmas tree!” He defended, before launching into singing oh Lloydie tree, oh Lloydie tree, how lovely are your branches! And receiving dirty looks from his victim.  

“Listen to Nya, Kai.” Cole shouted from above them. The master of fire relented, muttering about how no one appreciated his brilliance as he unwound his brother. Their hard work was interrupted by the sounds of a (much less irritating) Christmas carol floating into the courtyard from just beyond the gate.

“We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year!” Sang Lou and his quartet as they lugged a ginormous tree inside.

“Hey, pop!” Cole greeted. He left the lofty heights of the roof, followed by Jay.

“Hello, son! You’re doing a lovely job with this place!”

“Thanks!” Jay said, “You just missed the explosion!”

“… The what?” Lou started.

“So, how was your drive?” Cole inquired, cutting him off. His father gave him a strange look, but didn’t push the topic further.

“It was fine. Building that driveway was a wonderful idea. I can’t imagine how much of a hassle it would’ve been to carry this thing up so many steps.” he answered.

“It really has made life easier for all of us.” Zane agreed.  

“This tree is beautiful! Thank you so much for hooking us up!” Added Lloyd, staring admiringly at their  

“It was no trouble, Lloyd.” Lou told him, smiling warmly.  

“Wanna come inside for some hot cocoa? We were about ready to take a break anyway.” offered Cole.

“I would love to, but unfortunately we need to get going. We have a concert at the hospital to attend. Can’t disappoint the kids, you know.” the older man replied regretfully. The master of earth shrugged. Christmas was always a busy time for the Royal Blacksmiths.  

“Okay. Next time, then. Break a leg, and thanks again!”

“Goodbye son!” Lou called as his companions burst into sing again.  

“Now bring us some figgy pudding, now bring us some figgy pudding, now bring us some figgy pudding and bring some right here!”

“What even is figgy pudding?” Lloyd wondered aloud.  

“No clue.” Kai shrugged.  

“Let’s get this bad boy inside.” Prompted Jay, rubbing his hands together and grinning in a way that was only a little bit maniacal. It took a fair amount of maneuvering, but they eventually managed to get the tree situated in the living room.  

“Wow, I hope we have enough ornaments for this thing.” Nya commented. The tree looked even bigger now that it was upright.  

“We’ll think of something if we don’t. Maybe we can just put Jay to work making paper snowflakes again.” Lloyd plotted.

“I’m down for that. I don’t get why you guys think I’m the only one who’s deserving of this honor, though.” said Jay. He had never quite understood why the others were so fascinated by his ability to make paper snowflakes with such ease.

“Because you’re better at it than we are and we like the way they look.” Nya stated simply, hanging the ornament she’d discovered earlier on the tree. Jay leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Thanks, sweetie.”

Kai rolled his eyes at them and set about digging through the boxes looking for more ornaments. He pulled out anything that looked like it was still functional, tossing a few broken ones into the garbage.  

“This one is neat!”

“Oooh shiny!” Lloyd noted. He snatched the ornament from Kai before he could protest. The master of fire decided it wasn’t worth fighting and returned to his rummaging. Kai managed to protect a few of the ornaments from Lloyd’s watchful eye, sneaking them onto the tree when he wasn’t looking.  

“Wait… how did that get there?” Lloyd asked, finally noticing one of the extra sparkly ornaments Kai had hidden from him.  

“I swear Lloyd, you’re as bad as a cat when you get like this.” Nya told him, stifling a smile.  

“Like what?” he replied innocently. Cole watched Lloyd stare longingly at another ornament.  

“All oooh shiny every time you see something cool.”  

“Nah, I’m pretty sure that stems from having a dragon for a grandmother.” Lloyd reminded them.

“Hmmm that’s a good point.” Confirmed Zane.

“Kai, I am almost completely certain that Santa was not intended to be a part of this nativity!” Pixal scolded, frantically trying to prevent the master of fire from ruining the decoration he was currently setting out on the mantle.

“Well, he is now!” Kai retorted, not caring about historical accuracy. Pixal sighed loudly.

“Can we at least discuss fixing the sheep so they don’t look like they’re fighting to the death?”

“Gee, Pix! It’s not like they’re real,” he reminded her indignantly before smiling a devious smile, “Hmmm I should add one of Lloyd’s dragon figurines...”

“Kai no! That is the most horrible idea ever.” she protested, horrified.  

“What you call horrible I call brilliant!”

“Okaaay maybe it’s time for a break before Uncle Wu comes in here and questions our collective sanity again.” Lloyd said awkwardly pushing between the irate ninja and samurai.  

“There’s hot cocoa in the kitchen, remember?” added Nya.  

“Hmmm okay, sure. Hot cocoa does sound good.” Kai admitted (totally not planning on sneaking back later to mess with the nativity some more).  

“Yeah! Let’s go eat way too much whipped cream and marshmallows!” agreed Jay.  

“Looks like we’re off to another chaotic Christmas.” Lloyd commented to Nya as they headed for refreshments.  

“Yeah, but you know you love it.” She told him with a laugh. The blonde shrugged, saying,  

“I do. Somehow this never gets old.”

“That’s the magic of Christmas for you. Or… something like that, anyway. Now cmon, let’s get some hot coco before the others drink it all.”

[coloursflyaway]

Fall On Me

Pairing: Crowley/Aziraphale

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.200

Tags: Fluff, mutual pining, love confessions, getting together, first kiss

Link to AO3

Occasionally, Crowley still thinks of Alpha Centauri. Although, no, it’s hardly enough to be classified a thought, more the hint of one, the notional equivalent of picking up just a little bit of another radio station while listening to music. Not because there isn’t enough to think about, not even because he doesn’t want to, but because he absolutely forbids himself to do anything more. He’d forbid himself from thinking about it entirely, but unfortunately his brain is not like his house plants and cannot be frightened into submission. Crowley knows this because he has tried. Several times.

So, he still occasionally thinks of Alpha Centauri. They’re not the clearest thoughts he has ever had, because all of those had come from a healthy mix of not sleeping and three hundred quid’s worth of cocaine pumping through his bloodstream, they’re more of the fuzzy and shapeless kind that leaves you a bit disoriented afterwards. Their topics include, but are not limited to:

the vast nothingness of space

the lack of gravity

Aziraphale

the problem of deciding on which of the twin stars to settle on

the possibility of solar flares feeling ticklish

Aziraphale

the new and exciting possibilities of inhabiting a new solar system

Aziraphale

Some of them, like wondering if he would be able to taste the magnetic activity of his new home, are relatively comforting thoughts, while others are quite the opposite. Anything, that is, that has to do with a certain angel. And of course, it is those thoughts which take up the vast majority of the time he spends thinking about Alpha Centauri; it’s all light blonde hair and soft wrinkles that make gentle eyes look gentler, cream-coloured suits and smiles so bright that Crowley thinks he might remember Heaven for a moment. What makes it more difficult is that it is so easy, impossibly easy, one might say, to go from there to, well. Alpha Centauri. And how it could have been if they had let the Earth implode, run away together and made a new life there. Maybe without books, without wine and without his Bentley, but with each other and with an eternity to spend.

The thought, even if is just fleeting, a minor ripple in the dark, menacing sea that is Crowley’s mind, is enough to make something bloom in his chest that is decidedly undemonic, something warm and soft and bright, something that is as old as it is new, and as beautiful as it is torturous. He knows what it is, has known it for at least four thousand years, which is the precise reason why the Feeling has remained nameless, even if it is stubbornly clinging to the door in Crowley’s mind through which he is continuously trying to push it.

It’s the Feeling which is making Crowley think of Alpha Centauri now too, because he can feel the first tendrils of it spreading in his chest, just waiting for a crack in his vigilance to strangle him. He won’t let it, he decides, while he watches Aziraphale pop another biscuit into his mouth, humming like it’s the best thing he has ever tasted when Crowley knows for a fact that he got them for ninety-nine pence at Tesco half an hour ago. But there is something endearing about it, the way Aziraphale’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, the corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly, how he throws another biscuit at a duck, hitting it square in the face, and how he looks at it with slight regret, because he won’t get to eat it. The biscuit, that is.

“So?”, Crowley prompts, before he can think of something stupid, like wonder if Aziraphale’s eyes would look differently in another sun’s light. “Hm?” Aziraphale looks over to him, his face such a perfect picture of innocence that Crowley can’t be anything but suspicious. “The thing. The thing that you wanted to talk about. That you didn’t want to discuss on the phone.” It could be literally anything, from a new cat that the angel had spotted hanging around the book shop to another bout of the Apocalypse, the this-time-actual end of the world, time, and everything Crowley has ever held dear, so he had decided very early on that he would not worry about it. Only that deciding something and actually doing it seems to be mutually exclusive. “Oh. Right. Yes.”

Aziraphale straightens almost imperceptibly, going weirdly still, and the danger scale in Crowley’s mind is suddenly tipped violently towards BAD.   “It is hardly anything, really”, Aziraphale says softly, looking stubbornly down at his biscuits, and the scale tips further. “A trifle, really. Just something that we, well, not discussed, but something that was mentioned.” Crowley waits for a few seconds if the angel intends to say anything else, but when nothing comes, he prompts, “Yes?” Not really because he wants to know that badly, but because he doesn’t want to give the building anxiety any more room in his mind than it has annexed already.

“Yes. Well. If you perchance remember, I think it was in the seventies, or maybe the late sixties, now that I think of it, I had brought you the holy water, and you…” Again, Aziraphale doesn’t finish the sentence, instead his voice goes softer, softer, until it’s gone; Crowley remembers the evening more than clearly, the heist and the hope and the heartbreak. “What I am trying to say, back then we talked about having ourselves a little picknick at some point. And since the world doesn’t appear to be ending anytime soon I figured, why not do that now? As long as we still have time.”

Crowley, just a few weeks ago, has stopped time himself, and yet Aziraphale seems to be able to do the same thing, because the Earth most definitely stops, everyone around them stops, and Crowley’s relatively useless heart? Oh, it stops the hardest of all.

Because he knows what that moment meant to him, that one second in which he thought that maybe they were on the same page after all, because he knows what he wants this to mean, because… because he knows it can’t be that. He takes a deep breath, and squashes what could be hope blossoming in his chest like he has done with a dozen ants on the way here.

“…yeah”, he answers Aziraphale what would have been several seconds too late, had time not stopped in between to give his heart the chance to break.  Another deep breath, since it almost feels like he needs twice as much air to speak even a single word right now. “Sure. Anywhere special you want to go to?” “No.” Finally Aziraphale looks up, smiling so brightly it hurts Crawley’s eyes even with his sunglasses on; as much as he hates it, he can feel his heart mending in his chest. “Wherever you want to go, dear boy.”

 They agree on meeting on Tuesday, because Tuesday seems like the right day to choose, and as always Crowley picks Aziraphale up at his book store. He looks… different. Crowley cannot pinpoint why, or how, because Aziraphale is wearing the same too proper clothes, his hair tousled, a picknick basket in one of his hands, but there is something just off about him, like something has changed without Crowley noticing. The thought is vaguely disconcerting.

Crowley doesn’t bother getting out, just waits until Aziraphale gets into the car; like always the world seems a little bit brighter as soon as he’s near. “Mornin’, angel”, he greets, and Aziraphale gives him a smile that also isn’t quite right, but too close to it for Crowley to say anything. “Does this really still count as morning?”, Aziraphale asks instead of answers, “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? I suppose it could count as a very late morning, if you insist, even if I would definitely say it’s closer to midday.” “I don’t insist on anything.”

It’s impossible to keep the amusement from his voice, and Aziraphale must notice it, because he flashes Crowley another smile; this time it feels real. “In that case, good midday to you to. Have you decided where we’ll go by now?” “Absolutely not.” He flashes Aziraphale a toothy grin and starts the car to go wherever it wants to take them. “Just as well.” The angel looks away from Crowley, out of the window to watch London’s streets pass them by, every molecule of his earthly body radiating contentment, and there is something about this too, Crowley thinks as he almost runs over a very small woman and her even smaller dog. It’s almost like something clicked in place, some part of Aziraphale’s brain that used to tick, or click or move in another rather infuriating way, and which now has found the one place it fits in and made it its home.

“Maybe somewhere green would be nice”, Aziraphale says slowly, every word crisp and clear in the warm air, “Proper green, I mean. Not the way a park is, more like the countryside. Green and… peaceful. Yes. I think that would do nicely. What do you say?”

What Crowley wants to say is something close to the lines of this: I have absolutely no preference when it comes to this, because I haven’t cared less about anything in the last century than I care about picknicks, but I would willingly walk through the Pearly Gates of Heaven with you if it meant we spent more time with each other.

What Crowley says, however, is this: “Sounds good enough to me.” Which doesn’t quite hold the same emotional gravity.

“Splendid”, Aziraphale answers nonetheless, absolutely oblivious and lets one of his hands drop down from the wicker basket he is balancing on his lap, despite Crowley, like always, driving at a speed that would make some tornados dreadfully jealous. The hand lands in the most inopportune places it could, at least from Crowley’s perspective, which is between them, palm turned towards the sky and fingers stretched out just enough that the tips brush against Crowley’s thighs every so often. It’s the perfect position for someone to take it, hold it tightly, maybe even wave their fingers together to feel the thrum of blood beneath Aziraphale’s skin.

Even taking in account the one time his entire car was on fire, it’s still the worst drive of Crowley’s life.

 They arrive… well, they arrive somewhere. Not that the where part matters much to Crowley, he just stops the car when Aziraphale next to him mutters something like, “Don’t you think that this looks nice?” In Crowley’s opinion it really doesn’t. It’s essentially a field, very green and kind of soggy, complete with a few stubborn bushes that have yet to get the memo about agriculture and an unenthusiastic crow picking at an invisible object that might, or might not, be food. It’s as boring as the English countryside can get, but Aziraphale smiles at the crow like it’s the most magical of God’s creations and transforms the entire scene into something worthwhile.

So they get out of the car, Aziraphale still holding tightly onto his basket, Crowley’s thigh burning with the residual angelic touch; when the angel has found a slightly less soggy spot, they spread the chequered blanket on the ground and when they sit, Aziraphale is just a little too close. He must not notice how their knees touch, but Crowley does.

Deft fingers pull plate after box after platter from the basket, fresh strawberries and little sandwiches, scones and clotted cream and a tiny jar of jam, slices of cold meat and three different kinds of bread rolls, and as a triumphant finale an entire chocolate covered cake. Crowley can’t do anything but watch, both surprised at the amount of food and surprised that he’s even surprised. “Angel, how long do you intend to stay here? A fortnight?”, he asks, the surprise firmly refusing to leave his voice just yet. Aziraphale’s ears turn slightly pink.

“I, er, I couldn’t decide. You see, you never told me what you wanted to eat, so I just. Brought everything.” His voice is smaller than usual, but his eyes are still bright when he looks up at Crowley through his lashes, who promptly forgets how to be snarky for the first time since his creation. “That’s – “, he starts, then chokes on the words he couldn’t think of anyway, because Aziraphale gently lays his hand on Crowley’s knee. It’s the smallest of touches, and yet Crowley can feel the warmth he hasn’t possessed for centuries burn through the fabric of his jeans, heating up his skin. “Nice”, he finishes lamely, at least several moments too late, hoping that his glasses are dark enough to conceal the fact that his eyes are glued on Aziraphale’s perfectly manicured fingers on his knee, stretching out to touch his thigh.

“That’s because I am an angel, dear, it’s what we’re meant to do”, Aziraphale says easily, no change in his tone of voice. His other hand is picking up one of the tiny sandwiches like he isn’t aware that he has just launched Crowley’s mind into space, more accurately 4,37 light years away to Alpha Centauri, where it is plucking the fantasy of the life they could possibly have had right from the gaseous surface and transporting it here. To this field, this moment, this eternity. It’s impossible, and yet this time, Crowley doesn’t manage to squash the hope completely before it can bloom in his chest.

It’ll hurt like a bitch when Aziraphale eventually breaks his heart again.

Fingers tightening around his thigh bring Crowley back to Earth entirely, to Aziraphale smiling at him with eyes that should not be allowed to look so kind. “You should try one of the scones”, he tells Crowley brightly, “I picked them up at this charming little store in Edinburgh in the morning, they’re absolutely scrumptious.”

The scone is halfway to his mouth when Crowley really, truly realises what Aziraphale has said, isn’t just taking an order. It makes him pause, hand raised and mouth hanging open before forming the first string of passably sensible words since they sat down. “You went to Edinburgh for scones?”

This time, it’s not just Aziraphale’s ears that turn pink, it’s the tip of his nose and the apples of his cheeks too, leaving Crowley with the very demonic urge to just eat him whole. “I might have”, Aziraphale admits, sounding bashful. “But I was there anyway to pick up the jam, so it really wasn’t much of a bother.” “…the jam.” A moment passes with Crowley just trying to understand what is being said, but then again, this is the angel he had to break out of prison because of crepes. The thought passes, quicker than expected, because another pushes and pulls until it can take its place. “Where are the strawberries from?”

The blush dusted across Aziraphale’s face grows deeper in shade, and Crowley cannot be absolutely certain of the answer, because it is mumbled into the rest of the sandwich the angel is stuffing into his mouth. “Trondheim.” “The cake?” “This lovely café in Vienna, really charming, you’d love the décor-“ “What about the sandwiches?” “Oh.” For the first time, no colour changes on Aziraphale’s face, instead he looks vaguely pleased, which only makes Crowley more suspicious. “Those I made myself. I even cut off the crusts, see?”

Aziraphale holds up one of the little crust-less triangles for Crowley to see, a grave mistake. “That salmon is not from Sainsbury’s though, is it?” “It could be”, Aziraphale answers, telling Crowley that it absolutely isn’t. “There is absolutely no reason to think it isn’t from a local supermarket and instead from… from a small shop in Cordova, Alaska.” His voice grows more strained with every word he’s saying, and Crowley can’t help but chuckle.

“Really, angel”, he says without any malice, but a lot of amusement. “I always knew you were crazy about food, but –“ He doesn’t get to finish, because Aziraphale interrupts him, words flying from his mouth in a way that reminds Crowley of the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. “I’m not. Crazy about food I mean. I mean, I am, but that’s not – it isn’t what this is all about, it’s not – “Aziraphale pauses, and something changes in his posture, or maybe the slant of his mouth, or maybe the intensity of his gaze. Whatever it is, it steadies the angel’s voice when he finally finishes his sentence. “None of this was for me.”

It doesn’t make much sense. “Who’s it for, then?”, Crowley asks, stealing the sandwich from between the angel’s fingers and stuffing the whole thing into his mouth. Over the past millennia, Crowley thought he had seen every possible facial expression on Aziraphale, but he’s proven wrong right here, in the English country side, because never before in all of creation has a creature looked upon another with such utter incredulity painted across his face. “Crowley”, Aziraphale says, sounding as stunned as he looks, almost desperate. Crowley chokes on his sandwich.

“What?”, he gasps out once he can speak again, having miracled the sandwich from his tracheae to Alpha Centauri, the first place he could think of. His voice is hoarse nonetheless, but it doesn’t matter, since he can hardly form more than one word. “What?” “I thought it was obvious!” Aziraphale is flailing, hands flapping through the warm summer air. “It’s what we discussed! A picknick, or a dinner at the Ritz, and since you didn’t do anything when we were at the Ritz, I thought – “ “I didn’t do anything?” Crowley interrupts him, sounding at least as scandalised as he feels. “I did everything! All the time! I asked you to run away with me to Alpha Centauri!” “Well. Yes.” Aziraphale huffs slightly, crossing his arms in front of his body. “I guess we both can agree that wasn’t your best idea.”

They can, but Crowley cannot admit that right now, especially not when his heart is finally starting to realise what exactly they are bickering about. It’s not a sudden thing, realising, it’s more like making a good cup of tea in the morning, letting the tea bag steep just the perfect amount of time, adding milk or sugar or in Crowley’s case, nothing at all. Realising takes time, time which he, after 6000 years, more than deserves. At first, it doesn’t feel like much at all, maybe like a small fit of cardiac arrest, but the sensation grows stronger, his heart seemingly sucking in blood without pumping it back into his system, growing wider, fuller, heavier. Warmer, too. It seizes up, like it wishes it could explode, and Crowley thinks, for the first time without panic clinging to the words, Oh shit, he knows.

He must know, maybe not quite the extent, or the amount of time, or the sheer mind-numbing pain of it, but Aziraphale knows, and not only that, he doesn’t mind. In fact, it seems that – and Crowley’s heart suddenly releases the blood it has been hoarding all at once, filling every vein, every vessel with warm, tingling knowledge – Aziraphale might reciprocate. An impossible thought, and yet there is a hand on Crowley’s knee still, there are the angel’s eyes on him, unwaveringly kind, unfailingly loving.

His heart beats another time, and the warmth is almost unbearable, the intensity, the brilliance of the feeling enough to make Crowley forget how to breathe for a solid minute, if not longer. After such a long time, he can’t quite recall what it was like to gaze at God, but he thinks it must have felt something close to this.

Crowley is almost done with realising, the tea close to finish steeping, but there is still something missing, there is still the need to hear Aziraphale say it out-loud and make it real. “You mean…?”, he croaks out, because he has quite forgotten how to speak, but it’s enough for the angel to understand. “I suppose you could say that I finally caught up to your speed.”

Up until now, Crowley would have said he knew every single of Aziraphale’s smiles by heart, but this moment proves him wrong; the corners of the angel’s mouth pull up in a way he has never seen before, a curve of lips that makes Crowley’s heart shine brighter than all stars of Alpha Centauri combined. It’s a small smile, a kind one, but most importantly one that tells its audience that the person wearing it harbours not a single trace of doubt in their mind. And it’s directed at him.

A small part of Crowley still wants to ask Are you sure? but he doesn’t, because he knows. He knows with an intensity that makes it feel like he has never known anything in his life before, like all dogmatic principles of Heaven and Hell could only pale in comparison to the certainty of Aziraphale’s hand squeezing his knee, his eyes filled with an amount of love that should have to be enough for the entire Earth, not just one single entity on it.

“Alright”, Crowley says instead, mostly because he isn’t quite sure what to say, can’t think about it with Aziraphale looking at him like that. In all his life, Crowley never really understood the concept of physical beauty, at least not until now. Because now he can’t even think of tearing his eyes from the angel’s face, committing every groove, every slope and curve of it to memory once more, can’t imagine anything he’d rather look at for the rest of eternity. Aziraphale is beautiful, maybe not for human standards, maybe not even angelic ones, but he’s the most beautiful thing in all of existence in Crowley’s eyes.

Something starts to grow next, maybe inside, the Feeling inside his chest, something that feels more longing, maybe a little bit hotter still, a yearning, a hunger, something that is inextricably connected to this human body he is inhabiting. It isn’t lust, but at the same time not terribly far removed from it, a craving which informs Crowley in no uncertain terms that it will not go anywhere unless it is satisfied.

A moment passes until Crowley realises what it is his mortal body wants; when he does, he’s, well. Surprised. He’s seen humans do it before, but never has been terribly impressed with the concept. All in all, it seems relatively pointless, wet and possibly unsanitary, and yet his gaze flickers down to Aziraphale’s lips, which look plush and soft and impossibly inviting. Like they would feel perfect pressed against any patch of Crowley’s skin, most of all against his own mouth.

Maybe it’s because he never expected to be in this position that Crowley never considered how it would be to kiss Aziraphale, but the second the thought appears in his mind it overtakes it completely, leaves Crowley breathless with want. He looks down on Aziraphale’s hand on his leg, then slowly, ever so slowly, covers it with his own. Aziraphale’s skin is warm, soft, doesn’t feel angelic but human, and suddenly, it’s the simplest thing in the world to lean in.

Their lips meet in the middle, since apparently Crowley wasn’t the only one thinking about it, and it’s with the first touch that his eyes flutter shut, almost an involuntary response. It’s a soft kiss, a chaste one, a perfect kiss to be the first of a million.

Beneath Crowley’s hand Aziraphale turns his own around, weaves their fingers together and holds onto Crowley’s hand like it’s the only thing that is keeping him from sinking. And Crowley, lips parting easily to deepen the kiss, eager to take every little ounce of love Aziraphale is willing to give, seconds the sentiment.

They break apart at some point, and it’s only because their surroundings haven’t changed significantly that Crowley knows that they haven’t spent a century kissing. Still, it feels like it could have been that long, because everything has changed. Not the world, but then again, the world was never that significant; the sun isn’t brighter, but he is, and looking at Aziraphale, the angel is, too.

“So”, Crowley says after another moment-slash-eternity, “This is happening now, right? I mean, for a longer amount of time. I mean, for-“ He stops, cannot say it, cannot even think it. Even if it seems like a lifetime away since he thought it impossible altogether, it still hasn’t been long enough to truly wrap his head around the concept. Aziraphale seems to know, for once takes the plunge so Crowley won’t have to. His eyes are glittering with the sunshine of an early autumn day and his own celestial light as he takes their intertwined hands and raises them up to his lips, presses a kiss to each of Crowley’s knuckles, just as sweet as their first one was. And his voice is almost as soft when he, lips still grazing Crowley’s skin, says, "Yes, dear, I think forever would be quite the right word for it."