#but even the most angsty art can be used to turn our eyes to God and recognize our need of Him

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

author-chan!! can i have angst of annie leonhardt' s/o leaving her after she confesses that she's the female titan:(((

also i wish you luck with your blog ٩( ᐛ )و

tHIS HURT ME TO WRITE, ANNIE DESERVES HAPPINESS!

On another note though, thank you! I’m having fun so far ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Oh, and to preface, this turned out a lot more angsty and violent than I had sort of planned in my head, so if you want something changed, I can easily go back and edit it.

Monster

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: Slight violence, season 3 spoilers

Category: Angst

Summary: After finding out she is the Female Titan, Annie’s s/o leaves her, leaving her heartbroken and angry.

Words: 2.0K

The most recent scouting expedition was an absolute disaster.

You thought things were going well. One of your first scouting missions, and you had made it far into titan territory without much trouble.

But then, she appeared.

An abnormal for sure. Shown to be fast and agile, plus very intelligent, the Scouts stood no chance. She mindlessly ripped through your comrades in search of Eren, pushing all the way up to the forest, and wiping out almost all of the Levi squad.

Luckily, you were able to make it out of the mission relatively unscathed, physically anyway. Mentally, you were a mess. The experience messed you up for sure, you had never been more terrified of a titan before then. The fear of death that she instilled in you had shaken you to your core, and as soon as you were allowed to leave, you ran to the interior to find solace in your girlfriend, Annie.

Sneaking into the military police dormitories, as you had done many times before, you quietly pushed to the door open, poking your head in in search of the blonde.

You found her alone in bed, staring at the ceiling wordlessly. Her roommate, Hitch, was strangely absent. You wondered if she was getting ready for bed. It was a bit early, as the sun had just began to set, but you figured she may have just been tired.

She didn’t seem to notice you at first, which was unnatural of the usually extremely observant soldier. Still you paid no mind to it, calling out her name.

“Annie?”

She turned to face you, and a small smile graced her lips. But something was very off about it. The smile looked so... pained. Not fake, but pained. Like it hurt her just to smile.

“Can I come in?” You asked, just out of courtesy, since she looked like she had something on her mind.

She nodded, sitting up in her bed and patting the space next to her.

You climbed onto her bed, and the two of your shared a chaste kiss before you hugged her, burying your head in her shoulder. You inhaled slowly, taking in her calming, slightly sweet scent.

“I missed you...” You muttered.

She chuckled just a little, before wrapping her arms around you and falling backwards, pulling you with her so you were tucked into her side. “I missed you too...”

You snuggled closer into her chest, taking deep, relaxed breaths for the first time in days.

You laid in comfortable silence for a few minutes, before you finally started to talk about what had really been bugging you.

“The scouting mission was a disaster.” You said, slightly muffled into her chest. You could’ve swore you felt her breathing hitch and her muscles tense up at the mention of it.

You pulled your head out of her chest, not even waiting for her to beckon you to continue, deciding to keep talking anyway.

“There was this huge abnormal, and she was faster and smarter than any one I’ve ever seen before!” You cried out, not even bothering you control your voice. You needed this experience off of your chest as soon as possible. “She killed so many Scouts! I saw it all with my own two eyes, I thought for sure I was gonna die!” Tears formed in your eyes as you recounted the experience, images flashing through your head and screams ringing in your ears.

Your hands covered your eyes, eyes squeezing shut so tightly that bright colors seemed to flash over your vision as your eyebrows furrowed. Quiet sobs and sniffles escaped your lips.

After a moment, you realized Annie still hadn’t moved an inch. The Annie you know would’ve been shushing your cries and petting your hair, as she’s done so many times before, but right now, she didn’t move a muscle.

Your eyes fluttered wide open, and you bit your bottom lip to suppress your sobs. You shakily moved your head up to look at her. She was completely frozen, even her breathing had stopped momentarily, as she stared at the wall with wide, unmoving eyes. Her expression looked so mortified.

You gasped out loud as it finally clicked, your hands moving from your ears to cover your mouth, and your pure shock immediately stopped the flowing tears. All the pieces fell into place in your mind at once.

The expression on her face was recognizable anywhere. God, how did you not notice it before?!

Guilt.

Confused and panicked, you sat up and scampered to the opposite side of the bed, still in disbelief.

“A... Annie?” Your whisper was barely audible, but compared to the tense stillness of the room, she heard you perfectly. “Tell me it isn’t true...”

You had ignored it. You didn’t want to think about any of it. You didn’t want to think about how similar the female titan looked to her, or how the female titan had the same martial arts technique as her, or how strange she had been acting lately, especially now after the attack. You still clung to hope that, maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.

She finally sucked in a breath harshly through her clenched teeth, lowering her head in shame and hiding her eyes from yours.

“I...” She whispered. The tone in her voice almost made you pity her. She sounded so sad, like a kicked puppy. The furrow in your brow softened, but you remained on guard until she finished her sentence.

“I’m so sorry... Y/n...”

At that moment, you felt a switch flip in your mind. This was no longer the Annie you knew. She wasn’t the Annie that would lean on you silently during mealtimes, or the Annie that would kiss you on the forehead when you woke up together, or the Annie that smiled lovingly whenever you told her that you loved her.

No, not anymore. This was a monster. She was a monster.

Burning rage and heartbreak coursed through your veins, taking over your body as you lost any control you may have had. She didn’t need to try to apologize. She didn’t deserve forgiveness.

You grabbed her by the shoulders, and before she even had the chance to react, you tackled her off of the bed and onto the creaky wooden floors of the dorm, landing on top of her with a loud thud.

She shut her eyes and winced in pain for a moment, but she opened them to look at you. As soon as her eyes met yours, you saw them widen with fear. Not fear for her safety, she could easily beat you in a fight if she wanted to. No, this fear was different, it was something she had feared since she first started to fall for you. And right now, it seems that fear was becoming reality.

“WHY?!” You screamed, still hovering over her. Despite your anger, your face appeared distraught, tears falling from your eyes and onto her cheeks. The tears she usually wiped away endearingly were now flowing from your eyes, and it was all because of her.

“This whole time, you pretended to love me, while you were really just our enemy? Do you have any idea how many died because of you?! What are you doing this for?! WHY, ANNIE, WHY?!”

Tears fell from Annie’s eyes as she struggled to form a coherent sentence.

You remained on top of her, waiting impatiently for an answer. “Well?!”

“I... Y/N please... I’m sorr-” Her sentence was cut off as you raised your fist and struck her in the nose with all your might. Her head flung to the side, blood already spurting from her face.

“Don’t give me that sorry bullshit! You aren’t sorry at all! You just want to save your hide!”

You sat up from your previous position, but your knees stayed grounded on the floor to either side of her. You stared at her, your expression broken and unremorseful.

“You’re a traitor...” Your voice dropped to a solemnly low pitch, and a pained, almost hysterical laugh ripped through your throat. You calmed down within moments, however, and stared into her eyes. If looks could kill right now, she would be dead on the floor in an instant.

“You stood there with us and swore to fight against the titans... and then you went on to kill your own comrades... do you feel no remorse?” You shook your head, looking away as if she didn’t even deserve your acknowledgement. “You never deserved to wear the uniform. You should never have joined the ranks.”

You stood up, heading for the door. You turned to look at her once again, only to see that she hadn’t moved an inch, her head still facing to the side, looking away from you.

“Tch.” You turned around, twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open slowly.

“I can’t believe I thought I loved you,” You took a step out of the door. “You monster.”

---

Annie panted in front of the mirror, gripping the sides of the porcelain for support. The blood still leaked from her nose, the metallic taste making its way into her mouth and coating her tongue.

She looked at the mirror, and a stranger stared back. A stranger whose faced was still stained with tears. A stranger who was afraid. A stranger who, deep down, ached for her lover to return.

She should’ve known. Hell, Reiner warned her several times.

“I know you care about her, Annie, but you can’t get attached to, let alone involved with Y/N. It sacrifices the integrity of our mission as warriors.”

She winced at the memory, closing her eyes and trying to block it out. Still, his words wrapped itself around her brain.

“Besides, you know it well. We’re sinners, Annie. Monsters. We have a duty to serve, but that’s it. People will hate us simply for being born into this program, for inheriting our titans. Y/N is no different.”

She stared back into the mirror. The stranger who looked back had really believed that she could do it. That Y/N wouldn’t hate her when she inevitably found out her secret. How foolish, believing that she could be forgiven.

A sudden rush of anger and frustration washed over her, and her hand left the sink and struck the mirror in front of her. The reflection shattered, and the glass fell to the ground.

She didn’t bother to wash the blood off of her hand, or even pick the tiny shards of glass out of her hand before she punched the empty wall where the mirror used to be.

*POW*

She knew it, she always knew it, years before even being given her orders.

*POW*

Of course she knew it, how could she not?

*POW*

But she didn’t want to be reminded of it.

*POW*

She didn’t even want to think about it.

*POW*

She didn’t want it to be told to her face like that.

*POW*

And especially not by her.

*POW*

No matter how she faced it, she was just...

...

A monster.

---

She huffed in the midnight air as she ran, holding her limp right hand. It wouldn’t take a genius to look at it and tell immediately that she had shattered many of the bones in her fingers, but that didn’t matter right now. You knew her secret, and it wouldn’t be much time before you told the others.

She ran as fast as she could, skidding to a halt in front of the cabin that she unfortunately knew all too well.

---

Reiner awoke with a start, a painful sensation covering his chest. As he opened his eyes slowly, the blurry silhouette in front of him delivered another swift kick to his ribs. He groaned painfully as the silhouette began to clear.

“Annie?” Confusion and fatigue laced his speech heavily. Across the room, Bertholdt began to stir awake.

“Reiner,” She spoke. His eyes widened as he gazed into her eyes. The icy blue orbs appeared as though no one was behind them. She looked broken, as if a painful realization had shattered her entire world. “Get up. Now.”

“Huh?” He sat up, noticing her battered and bruised hand, only heightening his confusion.

“We’re going to go get Eren.” She spoke, an eerie monotony to her voice.

“Whether you like it or not,” She continued. “This mission ends today.”

SAAHFKSJHLDFSKHACKJH I NEVER WANT TO WRITE ANNIE IN PAIN AGAIN I FEEL SO BAD AAAAAAAAAAA

also, i put so much effort into this, but it feels really bad for some reason :|

Also I couldn’t write Annie punching the wall without comparing her to a Kyle™ lol.

Well, still, I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if I should change anything.

[itstheimpossibledream]

Only A Play -Part 1

Word count:1297

Pairing:AU Henry & FemBlack! Reader

Warning: Angsty Drabble.smut to come (series ?)

Summary: AU Henry is rehearsing for a Broadway show but, but isn’t living up to expectations. It will be a smut series so just hold on. Request and advice always accepted. I literally haven’t thought of a name for the series yet so any suggestions are appreciated !😊

" I've never wanted anything this much before." you said looking down at your hand, feeling the pads of his fingers lightly draw your chin up until your eyes met his gaze.

" Then come with me." he bellows, blue eyes forcing their way into your memory forever.

"HOLD!" you hear from the back of the room as the lights draw up. Henry takes a step back from you,dropping his acting face and allowing a shy smile to seep across his features.The director made his way to the front of the rehearsal room, sighed to himself and dismissed everyone. " Great work today guys, thank you for your patience. Really need you to nail those beats down Henry. Important stuff.... Important stuff." You could tell he was not pleased with this particular piece, having worked with him before you noticed a stark contrast from the man who was the life of the party when you had been an assisting lead in his breakthrough play just a year prior. It would be too much to say you had started a friendship but, a work-related understanding was absolutely within reason.Steve was a solid director, who tried to be as fun as he was professional. You quickly gathered your things, and headed to the door of the studio, to find some solace in the nasty habit of smoking, you knew you should quit. But it was just one of those things that you had started in college and the stress relief of anything else legal had never been quite the same. You exhaled in annoyance, annoyance with your performance, your day, the fact that it could be so blisteringly cold in New York on a February morning. But, enjoying the feeling of laying your head against the brick wall, it was sunday morning that was the quietest it got in manhattan. You find a twinge inside yourself finally able to muster up the courage to walk home but you turn your head when you hear your name.

"Yeah- Hi, look I'm sorry for all of this my agent thought I would be a good fit for the play and I fell in love with the piece but, I really just can't seem to get anything right for him huh?" Henry awkwardly half smiled at you shifting his weight from one foot to another, digging a hole with the toe of his shoe into the snow. He had an effortless way of looking like he just left the gym.He must go regularly, you couldn’t put a finger on why that annoyed you but it did, it made you even more frustrated that this nervous,quirky hot guy routine was working.

"Well-" you began quickly inhaling a breath of cold air "you could start by being off-book. And not movie off book, like actually off book. He knows you don't know the show." you say moving your eyes up from his shoes to read his expression. You took a long drag of your cigarette,he didn't move. He seemed somehow stuck by your words.It seemed,moving the snow with his foot was becoming more of a tick.Maybe the insecurity was more genuine than you were giving it credit for.

"You know, it must be so comfy knowing you can always secure a job because of your face." You said almost laughing and tilting your head in his direction.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snorted, he was really working on that snow cavern now.

"That means we all know you booked this job, because for some reason horny housewives can't seem to stay away from you. You have to admit your name on a marquee is guaranteed ticket sales and the producers value that over actual art anyday." you say smugly.

"Is that what you really think of me?" he asked.

"That's what I know. " you responded not missing a beat or avoiding his eye contact for a second. " Do you know the actor you beat out for this role? He's a Tony award winner, a purely brilliant performer and on top of that he's gorgeous but you beat him out. Because he's black and in America a mediocre white guy wins everytime." you stepped closer into him and continued , wondering if you were digging into him too hard.But, finally being able to say the truth you had been feeling for so long was too cathartic. "See, what I think of you doesn't matter, because I'm going to be professional, and I'm going to do my job. And I'm going to fuck you onstage infront of thousands of people everynight and none will be the wiser but, I want you to know. I want you to know that your position has not been earned and everyone knows it." you say really laying into him " So, the least you could do is act as though you cared about the project and learn your lines. Some people don't have their own homes and multi-million dollar bank accounts to go home to, for some of us this is our lives." You finish stomping out your cigarette and turn on your heels to walk away.

"I'm not as bad as you think" he says, you spin back on your heels to face him.

" You are though.” you shrug “ See I do my research, I know about your weird,sordid history with the me too movement, with having to apologize to co-stars during a sex scene. Dude-you dated a college student and then broke up with her in front of the whole world! And if you really cared about this project you would have more of an understanding of the societial implications of being in an interracial relationship to begin with. The fact the the dramaturg sent us endless links and information and you obviously had the time to read none of it doesn't bode well for you as far as not being an ass hole."

"So you think I'm an ass hole?" he whispers, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know what to think of you. I don't know what I should think of a man who admits in interviews that the best part of being an actor is the money. I mean god- do you even like it?" you scoff, knowing your face must be burning with rage at this point.

"Truthfully, no." he shrugs, the city falls exceedingly quiet as you meet his eyes and realize it must be the most honest thing he has said in a long while. Your eyes trailed back down to the hole at his feet, you chuckled to yourself. Of Course he didn't care about acting.

" I used to though-" he says,his deep baritone breaking the silence "Before I got the big jobs,that's when it was real for me. I think - I don't know the - the money and the fame, and the parties" he laughed to himself " It started becoming about more than just the art. Started becoming about being popular, being liked, gaining fans all the shit that makes you an ass hole I guess. " a smirk begins to play at the corner of his lips.

You pull your jacket sleeves further down over your hands,and see him adjust his hat to protect from the breeze. It was raw, it was honest, it was exactly what Stephen had been trying to pull out of him the entire time.

"Bring Kal." you said switching your weight to your back foot "Steve likes dogs." you shrug, stepping on your cigarette butt again before turning on your heels to leave.

You see him break into a large smile. It hadn't exactly been an ideal first two months, but with a dog in the mix at least rehearsals may be more fun.

[mspufflehuff]

It’s Too Late For That

Pairings:  Steve Rogers x plus size!reader (past relationship), Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader 

Prompt: “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, hm?” This prompt is from @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​ 1000 follower challenge. 

Word Count: 1.2k 

Warnings: Implied smut, cheating, lots of angst (for the most part)

Masterlist!!

Author’s Note: This is for my entry in @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​ challenge. I hope this turned out good as this is my first time writing angst. It has a happy ending for a few people in this fanfic and you can probably guess who for. I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it and checks out my other fanfics that aren’t this angsty. Love y’all!! 

"Dearest, didn't you say this was going to be a Christmas party with everyone?" You asked your husband as you picked up some steaks from the front of the deli counter. "I did, doll. Why? Do you think something is wrong?" Your husband asked you, coming up from behind you and setting a hand on your waist. "No. No. I just wasn't sure if we should get steaks or we should bring a dessert for everyone." You thought to yourself, giggling as you felt stubble rub against your cheek. 

"Bucky, that tickles. You need to start using that beard conditioner I got you from my trip to Italy." You kissed his stubbly cheek, smiling happily at him. "Whatever my beautiful wife says." He purred softly and kissed the crown of your head. "Well, if you think we should bring a dessert, you can make that delicious carrot cake you make for me for my birthday," Bucky tells you as he walks over to the shopping cart, a babbling toddler sitting inside the cart. "Ba ba ba!!" The little girl cooed at Bucky as he got closer. "I know, sweetheart!" He leaned down and kissed her nose, agreeing with her babbling. 

"She's a charmer just like her father." You teased Bucky, putting the steaks back on their counter you picked them up from. "Well, let's go get more carrots since I'm gonna make that carrot cake. You have to promise me, Barnes, that you won't eat it before the party." You pointed your finger out to him, giving him a teasing look. "That's gonna be hard, doll. You know how much I love your baking." Bucky smiled, following you with the cart over to the produce section of the store. 

Like you and Bucky, a man in a hoodie, jeans, and sunglasses made his way over to the produce section. You soon reached the carrots and started picking out the larger of the carrots you could find. As you were pulling away to look at the other produce, you heard a soft raspy voice. "Y/N?" You lifted your head up and looked towards the voice. It was the man with the sunglasses you didn't see earlier. "Yes? Is there something I can help you with?" You asked in a questioning tone. The man pulled off his sunglasses and moved the hood off his head. It was Steve. Steve Rogers. Your ex-boyfriend. 

You blinked a few times and looked at him. "Oh… hi Steve. It's been a long time since we've seen each other, hm?" You asked him, tightening your hand around the bag of carrots you held. "Uh… yeah, I guess it has. It's been a few years, right? How have you been? Are you still working with kids?" He asked nervously, watching your face in desperation. "It has. I think about 5 or 6 years. I am still working with kids. I'm actually gonna be moving after Christmas. I got an offer in France to teach children." You gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I actually have a kid of my own. Her name is Winnifred. She is turning one before New Year's." 

"Wow… you have a kid… You always talked about having one." Steve smiled softly at the memories of talking about having children together. "What are you doing nowadays?" You asked, tilting your head softly. "I'm drawing and doing art commissions when I'm not on missions." He rubbed the back of his neck, watching your eyes move across his face. "Oh, that's good. I'm glad you got back into drawing-" "Hey doll, I grabbed the powdered sugar since I know you ran out-" Bucky stopped when he saw Steve. "Hey, Steve… long time no see, huh?" Steve looked at Bucky, then you, then at your daughter, who was babbling and reaching for Bucky. 

"Yeah, Buck. So, you two got together?" Steve asked, a little color draining from his face. He couldn't believe his best friend and his ex-girlfriend had gotten together after you two broke up. He talked with Bucky every so often, but Bucky never mentioned who his wife was. It was making sense to Steve now. You were married to Bucky. That's why he slowly stopped going on missions and eventually left the Avengers. "Yeah. We met about a year after we broke up." You told Steve, picking up Winnifred and bouncing her on your hip. "After we hit it off on our first date, we started seeing each other a lot. After about 3 years of dating, he asked me to marry him. I said yes, and then after a year, I found out I was pregnant. Then I had this little angel." You explained to Steve, kissing Winni's nose. 

Bucky came up behind you and rubbed your back. Bucky knew it was hard to talk with Steve after your breakup. "But enough about me. Are you with Janice? Do you have someone waiting for you at home?" You asked, tearing stinging eyes as you looked at Steve. 

*6 years ago* 

"Answer me, Steve!!" You cried out to Steve, tears falling down your face. "Was it worth it? Was she worth it?" You asked softly, falling to your knees on the floor of your shared apartment with Steve. Steve said nothing. He stood there, looking at you. Steve watched you, regretting everything he did to hurt you. He hurt you by sleeping with one of your best friends. You had been gone on a business trip, and while you were gone, your now ex-best friend came over to your house and slept with Steve. You found out after finding clothes and lingerie that was definitely not yours in your closet. 

This was a week after coming back from your business trip. You then asked your best friend, at the time, if she had left some of her underwear at your apartment. She then spilled everything to you over the phone while Steve was gone on a mission. You cried after finding out. You were upset, pissed, confused, and obviously hurt at Steve's actions. So when Steve got back, you let him walk into your shared apartment before you showed him the lingerie. After getting no answer from Steve, you packed all of your stuff and left the apartment, leaving your key with him. You stayed with your mom until you got back on your feet. 

*Now* 

"Uh… no... I don't have anyone waiting for me. I didn't talk to Janice after what we did. After you left, I stopped talking to her. I couldn't see her again after hurting you." He told you, keeping strong so he wouldn't break into tears in front of you. "Ah… well… I hope you find someone, Steve. Well, we need to be going. I have to get dinner cooked and give Winni a bath. It was good seeing you, Steve. Have a nice life." You gave him a tiny smile, putting the carrots you had in your hand in the cart. Bucky told Steve a bye and good seeing him before following you to the checkout counters. 

Steve stood there while you, Bucky, and Winnifred checked out and left the grocery store. He couldn't hold his tears in after you left. You, on the other hand, felt calm and free. You had been trying to find the words to tell Steve for years. So seeing Steve in the store, having the life you've always dreamed of, you were happy. You loved Bucky and Winnifred and thanked whatever god could hear you for giving you this amazing life you had been blessed with. 

You thank Steve for cheating on you. If he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have gotten the life you had now. Even if it took a heartbreak and some healing, you found your true love and had a beautiful angel as your child. 

Hi everyone! So I know I already put an author’s note, but I wanted to start adding a taglist for people who wanted it. So if you are someone who wants to be on my taglist, message me and Ill start putting you on my taglist for my fanfics. Thanks everyone! ❤

Taglist:

@velvetcardiganbucky​

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Hi y'all!

So I realized today that it's been about three months since I started cross-posting my stuff to ao3 (those of y'all who were here for After Each Midnight while it was still a wip will know that I've been writing for longer than that but anyway). With the latest fic I just posted, I now have 30 works published to ao3 within those three months! Which is wild to me!

Since that averages out to ten fics a month and I like round numbers, I decided to celebrate by listing my 10 favorite fics...of my own lol. Narcissistic? Maybe! But it's fun anyway!

This is a really long post as each rec includes a summary, an excerpt (or a few), and some personal notes/anecdotes about the writing process or what inspired me to write the fic, etc. so I'm putting it all under the break. If this doesn't sound like your cup of tea then of course please just skip over this one, but for anyone who wants to revisit some of my older works with me, or if you're curious about which fics I personally like the most, or if you want to talk about your favorite fics of mine in the replies or anything, then that's cool too! I just wanted to find a way to mark this down because it feels like something of an achievement ^_^

Thank you!

1. After Each Midnight Begins A New Day, (54,401 words, Rated E) Ship(s): 3zun, Wangxian Summary: When Lan Xichen wakes up the morning after the fifth anniversary of his life crumbling to rubble around him in Guanyin Temple, he's shocked to find both Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao in his bed, both whole and alive and...married to him?! (A time travel fix-it in which the time traveling and fixing of things has already been done by Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, and Lan Xichen accidentally gets dragged along for the happily ever after.) Excerpt(s):

1. “Poor da-ge,” [Meng Yao] teases again, this time with a bit of an edge, and Lan Xichen cracks one eye open just enough to see him stripping first out of his shoes and socks, then his third layer of robes, then his second, until he’s dressed much as he had been the prior evening - in nothing but a black under-robe so sheer that it actually almost looks gray. It clings to all the petite, lithe curves of him and the sight makes Lan Xichen’s mouth practically water. “What if I want my turn with you now? What if I’m jealous that er-ge got to have you all to himself for hours , while your poor A-Yao had to go have a drink with Xian-didi just to pass the time.” “Oh gods you’re a beast too,” Nie Mingjue groans as Meng Yao slips on top of him gracefully to lean down and pepper kisses up and down his neck and shoulder. “Get off of me, foul creature. Go tempt our husband, I’m temporarily immune to your wiles.” “You’re never immune to my wiles, da-ge, and er-ge is meditating oh so diligently. He’s certainly not smiling and watching us through his lashes as if we’re not well aware of his tricks and what he likes to watch.” - 2. “It took years of practice, you with your painting and I with my answering, but when you were a teenager I finally decided on the best advice I could think to give you: Do not seek for every answer in this life all at once, Xichen,” he instructs with a smile as he returns to painting. “Let them come to you gently and in their season, and trust that all will be as it should in the end.” Lan Xichen takes another breath and returns to his painting with a slightly trembling hand - a trembling that ends up creating a lovely branch on the tree he is painting that, when he turns his head to look, is modeled almost exactly after the one growing in the garden behind the Gentian House, just beyond the window. “I don’t remember ever seeing this tree,” he whispers and Qingheng-Jun hums across from him in clear understanding. “And yet it flows from your brush all the same. Now we can all know that you have nothing to fear, your memories will also come to you in their season. Until then, allow yourself to rest, and remember that you have the support of your family whenever you need it.” “Yes, father,” he replies with a whisper and a tremulous smile, feeling lighter than he has in days. - 3. “I will go into seclusion.” The statement is a stone dropped into the gently rippling water of a spring-fed pool. The stone is jagged and pitted with all that the world has done to chip away at it, to make it rough and painful to the touch. It is sharp in his hands, heavy with all the hurts he still carries in his chest, all the grief he has no more room to hold. He feels lighter with it out of his grasp, the words settling into the ensuing silence with some bittersweet relief.

Notes: I know I've said it before but it bears repeating: this entire fic exists solely because of the smut scene in chapter 1. I thought of the smut first, and then the lead-in to it, and I intentionally left the end of chapter 1 ambiguous - it could have ended right there as an angsty one-shot with Lan Xichen believing that it was all a hallucination, and there's nothing really in the text to say that it's not because Lan Xichen is a very unreliable narrator in this fic. But then I wanted to write the backstory for the smut if, in fact, it wasn't a hallucination - and everything kind of...butterfly-effected out from there to become what it is now, along with all the extras in the series that's now roughly 120k long altogether and still not finished. Oops. Oh and also: this fic that started the ball rolling only exists because for some reason the servers for Omegle went down for months where I live, and prior to that I used to spend hours rp'ing. Without that creative outlet, I filled the vacuum with writing fic instead and now here we are. So if you're grateful for my fics then thank Omegle for sucking for a few months lol --//-- 2. Loving, Loud, Wild, and Theirs (7386 words, Rated T) Ship(s): Xuanli & Gen (kidfic), 3zun (briefly) - an extra for AEM Summary: A brief look at how in this kinder world, Jin Zixuan managed to find and legitimize his three siblings as well as a snapshot of the chaos of love and fun that is his family with his siblings, his beloved wife, and their seven children. Excerpt:

He had listened to [Madam Qin] and her handmaid, and he had believed them, and he had been unsurprised to find himself thinking quite uncharitably of his father following his promise to Madam Qin that he would do everything in his power to make it right, as much as he could. [Jin Zixuan and Meng Yao] return to Jinlintai the day after the next, once their business is concluded. He’s relieved when nothing needs his immediate attention as it means he’s free to retreat into his and Jiang Yanli’s quarters so he can tell her everything that’s weighing on his mind. “No more surprise siblings from now on,” he sighs into the comfort of Jiang Yanli's chest when he’s finished outlining what has happened and his plans to prepare a new suite of rooms in the family wing of the tower. For Qin Su. His sister. Jiang Yanli just laughs her tinkling laugh and kisses him, her hands gentle as she combs his hair back from his face with her fingertips. “You’ve got more siblings now than any of the rest of us,” she teases with a mischievous smile down at him that is a bit too reminiscent of, weirdly, both Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu for comfort. “Two brothers, a sister, and of course we must keep Mianmian in her spot on the list. If you would like to count brothers-in-law as well you’ve also got A-Xian, A-Cheng, Huaisang, Wangji, Xichen, and Mingjue...” He groans and hides his face properly in the soft silk of her robes even as she laughs again over his head.

Notes: This fic is actually a request fill for someone and I had some trouble ending it because there's a lot more I want to write with this wild family, though I did eventually find what felt like a good place to cut it off with 3zun arriving in Jinlintai for the visit they leave for at the end of AEM. There is something of a follow-up floating around my wips that - if it ever gets written - is a direct sequel to AEM that continues where this extra leaves off, with 3zun getting to spend time with their hoard of niblings in Jinlintai. No promises about if/when that will get written though. --//-- 3. Performance Art (8106 words, Rated M) Ships: 3zun, Wangxian (briefly) Summary: A Modern AU inspired by the 'Hysterical Literature' performance art project. Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and Meng Yao take turns doing their best to read aloud from chosen written works as they're filmed. The twist is that they're trying to do so as they're being pleasured with a vibrator controlled by one of their partners off-camera, each of their turns ending when the partner being filmed/played with has an orgasm. Excerpt(s):

1. “Engage people with what they expect; it is..- it…it is what they are able to discern and.. ngh.. confirms their projections. It settles.. ah settles them into predictable-“ He cuts off suddenly to set the book down flat and slap one hand down sharply on the tabletop. Meng Yao simply clicks another button and Nie Mingjue groans as his newly unoccupied hand twitches back to rest on the edge of the table closer to himself, as if about to drop down beneath it. Lan Xichen and Meng Yao both shift forward in their seats but Nie Mingjue catches himself before they have to intervene, returning his hand to the middle of the table and forcing a deep breath into his lungs so he can continue. “-Predictable patterns of..of response, occupying their minds while you w-wait for the ex- extra-“ he huffs out a sharp breath and curls his hand into a fist as he tilts forward and forces out the rest of the sentence in a rush. “Extraordinary moment — that whichtheycannotanticipate. FUCK!” - 2. It’s a few hours of quiet, peaceful work later when Lan Wangji shifts his weight in the way that means he wants Wei Wuxian’s actual attention and not his ‘ I’m sculpting so I’m periodically looking at you ’ sort of attention which he is, of course, quick to grant. He pauses in his muttering half to himself and half to Lan Wangji to say, “Hm? What’s up Zhanzhan?” “From Xiongzhang,” he says by way of explanation, holding his phone out for Wei Wuxian to squint at the screen. It takes him a moment to understand what he’s looking at, his eyes needing a second to adjust to the small black and white video that’s playing after having spent hours looking between Lan Zhan and the clay form taking shape under his hands. “What is this?” he asks as he leans in closer and squints a little harder. He blinks and his eyes go wide in the next moment as he realizes what’s happening on the screen as the woman’s tension climaxes ( literally ) - and then it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump to figure out just why he’d been asked to create an eerily similar setup in his own studio the previous afternoon for three men he might as well consider his sort-of brothers at this point. His next exhale is a wheeze as his ears go hot and Lan Wangji is instantly shrugging into a robe to stand from his lounging position and approach, concern written all over his features. “Wei Ying?”

Notes: I don't really have too much to say about this one except that it brought me so much joy and laughter to write and it honestly kind of surprises me that it's one of my less popular fics - it's nothing but a fun, sexy time! But I'm also terrible at guessing trends/what people will want to see so that might be on me haha. Oh! Also - a minor thing but something I'm very mildly proud of: the narrator voice is dependent on who's behind the camera! I wanted a way to make the person filming feel just as involved as the other two and I thought that was a fun way to do it since within the narrative it's technically going to be their perspective used for the video they're recording. Just to give y'all a little insight into my decision-making when it comes to my writing style for this one. --//-- 4. Anything For My Nie-Zongzhu (6411 words, Rated E) Ship: NieYao - pre-canon (just barely) Summary: Meng Yao is Nie Mingjue's trusted right hand, intelligent and valued by his Sect Leader, at least, who has learned lately to appreciate him a hell of a lot in private too - and for much more personal matters than the minutiae of running the Nie Sect. Seeing as Nie Mingjue trusts him so much, he finds it in himself to ask for something new - for Meng Yao to top him. [Technically an extra for AEM but can be read as a standalone] Excerpt:

“Am I to play into this boorish act you’re putting on tonight?” he teases instead as he steps closer until he’s near enough to feel the way the steam from the bath has turned the air sticky and humid. Nie Mingjue finally looks up at him and Meng Yao is internally crowing with triumph as he watches the lines of tension around his eyes and mouth fall away, his expression smoothing into quiet contentment. He did that. His presence alone is enough to help Nie Mingjue relax. It feels nearly as good as the day the man had angrily defended him to his own disciples and promoted him on the spot. “It’s not an act, I’m plenty boorish,” Nie Mingjue gruffs, returning his gaze to the letter, but this close Meng Yao can actually watch his eyes do nothing but try to glare a hole through the center of the page. “Of course you are, Zongzhu,” Meng Yao allows, his tone openly humoring - as is the smile tightening the corners of his mouth. “Therefore I can only suppose that you would prefer it if I returned to my walk and left you to continue your...correspondence in peace.”

Notes: Once again not really many notes on this one! I just love NieYao, I think their dynamic during Meng Yao's Nie Sect days has so much potential and I love exploring it every so often. --//--

5. Bite The Hands That Feed (1590 words, Rated E) Ship: XiYao Summary: After being forced out of the Nie Sect, Meng Yao has to come to grips with the hunger that's been chasing him his whole life, and he finds temporary satisfaction over and over in Lan Xichen, who is always so generous with his time and his body and is willing to help him feel less empty even just for a night. Excerpt:

He would never bite the hands that feed him, that stuff him full enough to make him believe for a moment that he’s no longer starving. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t inflict pains. He bites and he scratches and he plants himself in the bloody furrows until flowering moans reward his violent care, until pleasure bursts sun-warmed and sweet between them, berries ripe for the picking. He stains his mouth red with them, his fingers purple with the bruises he paints so delicately on his devotee’s body. If Meng Yao is being clawed to a slow torturous death from within, then it stands to reason that his other half will be ripped to shreds from without. He keeps his nails sharp and his teeth bared to tear into his flesh and drink sweetly of the vintage he offers - sweat, spend, blood, saliva when their mouths meet for crushing kisses. All of it is his to consume. He puts his mouth to the feast of Lan Xichen’s body and eats until the hunger pangs are satiated, drinks until he feels dizzy with it.

Notes: So I wrote this one when I was getting a little tired of the straight narration style of all my other fics and I wanted to try my hand at something looser, a little more prose-like but also a little darker than my usual fluff. I'm not sure how successful I was - this is actually one of my absolute least popular fics, number-wise! - but it's one of my favorites anyway. --//-- 6. A Figure, A Mouth (2788 words, Rated M) Ship: Wenzhou Summary: A quiet, intimate evening spent in the comfort of the Four Seasons Mountain Manor sometime between their arrival/fixing up of the place and the confrontation with Ye Baiyi. Excerpt:

After a while of warming each other up Wen Kexing urges him back up to push the bed under the window just as he’d said he would. Zhou Zishu takes the opportunity to blow out the candles before he rejoins Wen Kexing in their bed, the sudden darkness leaving them free to admire each other clothed in nothing but broad swathes of cool, sweet blue light bisected by deep black lattices of shadow from the trees out in the yard, the shadows from the contours of the wall and decorations around the window blocking and revealing them in turns. Lao Wen is, of course, as beautiful like this as he has been in every way Zhou Zishu has ever seen him, and he takes the time to savor it, to indulge in the decadence that Wen Kexing presents for each of his remaining senses. He’s a feast for the eyes, all hard muscle and skin glistening with glittering diamonds of sweat along his shoulders and the soft curve of his cheek. He’s a symphony for the ears, breathless desire and tender calls of his name that Zhou Zishu never lets go unanswered when they’re like this. By now Wen Kexing is an expert at drawing pleasure from him in every unlikely way there is to make sure that the effects of the nails don’t keep him from reaching his peak at least once, occasionally more in spite of his fading sense of touch.

Notes: Wenzhou makes me so soft and emotional, y'all. The next one on the list is also a Wenzhou fic and I just can't seem to stop writing them in fluffy/smutty situations because it's what they deserve. I really don't have anything more interesting to say about this fic, I just love them haha. --//-- 7. Tease Him Just Enough (2537 words, Rated M) Ship: Wenzhou Summary: A possible outcome if the conversation post-face reveal in episode 6 had gone differently - i.e. if Zhou Zishu had called Wen Kexing out on all his flirting and challenged him to do something about it - and then he does. Excerpt:

They don’t need words to communicate that at least right here in this particular moment there’s no one else they would rather have in their arms, pressed up against their bodies, no one else’s tongue who would find a new home in each other’s mouths or any other body their hands would rather explore. Wen Kexing has already known that they’re fated, but for the first time it feels like they’re agreeing to be so. Even if it’s just for a night. (Not that he thinks it will be just one night for them, but getting Zhou Xu to agree to anything remotely of the kind is like trying to drag a stray back-alley cat into a bath so he’ll take what he can get.)

Notes: My first fic for Word of Honor! The whole time I was watching the show (read: obsessively binge-watching) I was like 'Okay I like this show a lot but it's not nearly as compelling as The Untamed, idk if I'll be motivated to write anything for it'. Then I got to the end and I was like NEVERMIND YES I AM. I played myself. --//-- 8. You Need Tending (12,108 words, Rated T) Ship(s): Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji & Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren & The Jades & Wei Wuxian (this is a kidfic so nothing romantic!) Summary: Wei Wuxian is alone and homeless on the streets of Yunmeng, unaware of the presence of his parents' old friend so nearby. Lan Wangji is a child grieving for the loss of his mother in silence, overwhelmed by the world his uncle keeps dragging him out into. It takes their paths crossing more than once for Lan Qiren to realize just who Wei Wuxian is and that he needs their help, but he gets there eventually. Excerpt:

He watches on as the man comes to a stop next to the boys and squats down to check over the one who had been lost and suddenly he remembers lying on the ground and looking up at a stern-faced man with gentle hands and a ribbon across his forehead. The man who had given him medicine and bandages after a small boy had defended him from dogs, and an older boy had talked to him so kindly and helped him to sit up off the dirt. Wei Ying gasps as the memory hits and he scrambles back down off the roof, landing on the packed dirt of the space between the buildings with an oof, excitement bubbling in his chest. Along with the memory comes a name and it flies from his lips as he scrambles up off the ground to push his way into the crowd again. “Master Lan!” he shouts, his tiny voice lost in the din of the market. He tries to shove closer but the little family is already walking away, their backs to him as he strains against the flow of people much bigger and stronger than him. “Master Lan!” he tries again, desperation lending extra strength and emotion to his cry. Wei Ying stops struggling as he watches the two boys in white walk away, the pair of them flanking Master Lan in his sky blue robes as they move through the market, radiating serenity in the midst of the chaos. His vision blurs and he scrubs his forearm against his eyes angrily to dry them, trying to keep the three of them in his sight for as long as he can just in case they turn around and spot him. Just in case they remember him and maybe want to tell him to come with them.

Notes: Baby Wei Ying T-T He just hits me right in the heart, and so does baby Lan Zhan! And baby Lan Xichen. All the babies. This fic was actually completely inspired by an utterly adorable fanart of Lan Xichen giving a grumpy baby A-Zhan a piggyback ride! I'd been wanting to write a kidfic type fix-it for a while and that art was the spark I needed to come up with something workable. (Edit: here’s my reblog of the art I’m talking about!) --//--

9. Familial Circumstances (5393 words, Rated G)

Ship(s): Lan Qiren & Original Characters, Lan Qiren & Jin Zixuan, Lan Qiren & Qin Su, Lan Qiren & Mo Xuanyu - An extra for AEM

Summary: Another kidfic extra for the horde of children in Jinlintai, this time as seen through the lens of their beloved Great Uncle Lan. It's a simple relationship-study-type look at how all the children love their Great Uncle and how much he loves and treasures them in return.

Excerpt:

An unusual stillness accompanies [Jin Ruhai's] playing. Jin Lu stops fidgeting with her fingers, the twins slip into the perfect stillness of those who are utterly aware of themselves at all times - a trait [Lan Qiren has] noticed in every skilled fighter he’s ever come across - and even Jin Ye relaxes, slumping further and further backwards until she’s slouched down against his stomach, legs dangling over his crossed shins.

The piece isn’t a terribly long one, nor as complex as the next score Lan Qiren intends to teach the boy, but Jin Ruhai’s mastery of it is impressive. Again, Lan Qiren is forcefully reminded of Lan Wangji, always most at peace when behind his instrument to play with and/or for the people he loves.

There’s silence in the room until the last note fades with a shiver into the air and Jin Ruhai pulls his hands back from the instrument. The stillness lasts for one more moment before it’s interrupted by Jin Lu sneezing suddenly and her siblings laugh as the quiet breaks.

“I had to hold that in the whole time !!” Jin Lu laughs as she rubs her sleeve under her nose, one eye screwed shut as she giggles. “I didn’t want to mess up A-Zhuang’s song, it’s so pretty!”

Notes: I'm definitely biased because they're all my oc's except for Jin Ling, but I genuinely love all of the Jin children in the AEM AU. If anyone is ever interested in knowing more about their individual personalities and the like please don't hesitate to ask me, I've actually put quite a bit of thought into all 6 of the kids I created wholecloth and I have a lot of feelings about Jin Ling getting the chaotic siblings and loving parents he was robbed of.

--//--

10. Opportunities To Practice (5710 words, Rated M) (*WIP)

Ship: Xuanli - An extra for AEM

Summary: Jin Zixuan is nervous for his..marital activities with Jiang Yanli - after all, who could he possibly ask for advice? His father? No thank you. Thankfully Jiang Yanli is sweet and patient and knows her husband well - he just needs a bit of time and he'll get it figured out.

Excerpt:

She shivers with an interesting combination of want and intense vulnerability as she stands there, feeling bare in spite of her remaining layer. It’s of a material so sheer as to be practically nonexistent, nothing more than a delicate veil of a red so pale it’s nearly pink that sits on her body like a second skin. Until it falls gently away at the knee to flutter around her ankles, it clings to every curve, every contour, and as she watches Jin Zixuan doesn’t even bother to hang the robe he had just removed on the screen. He lets it drop into a soft pool around her bare feet, his gaze roaming her newly exposed figure - she would perhaps feel strange about it did he not look so devoted , so in awe of seeing her practically naked in front of him.

Yanli gasps softly as he suddenly drops to his knees at her feet and oh - that’s heady. Her body, which she hasn’t really thought of too much in the past beyond the occasional irritation that it’s weaker than she would prefer, has put the man she loves on his knees. He’s looking up at her now, his eyes wide and his hands reverent as he raises them to rest on her thighs, thumbs caressing her too-warm skin through the barely-there robe that bunches up softly under the pressure of his grip.

“You’re right,” he finally breathes, sounding slightly strained. “I’d like this to stay on. If that’s - are you alright?”

“I am,” she reassures.

Notes: This last fic is technically a wip, the only one in the list! However! - it's going to be a collection of one-shots centered around Xuanli and their sexual exploits that lead to their seven children, and possibly also the ones that are just for fun (horny Yanli rights forever). It's not currently high on my list of priorities or anything and the one chapter that's up so far can stand on its own so it's a wip but it's not? I just love Xuanli so much and I want to explore their relationship in my happy fix-it AU whenever the mood strikes, and whenever that happens this is where those one-shots will go.

--//--

And that's it! My personal top 10 favorite fics of my own as of right now. I thought about doing my top 10 according to statistics like hit counts or kudos, but I genuinely love some of these unpopular fics and I wanted to give them some love and attention even if it's just for me. I know there's a lot here to sift through but if any of y'all enjoyed the list or any of the specific fics on it let me know! I liked taking this little pause to take a look at what I've actually been producing these last few months.

Thanks for reading!

[free-pool-trash]

talking too fast - peter maximoff

this is my first peter maximoff fic, i actually really liked writing for him and i wouldn’t mind doing some more for him and maybe even warren if you guys would want that? idk this blog is kinda dead rn but i liked this request/idea a lot so show it some love if you like it <3

comments and reblogs are appreciated  <3

Request: Can you do like fake dating that end up in real love or something idk big cliché for our speedy boy. 'cause why tf not ksjdjdn

Word count: 3.7K (Jesus ok)

warning(s): swearing(it’s me, are we shocked? no), kinda angsty tbh, everyones a lil insecure but don’t worry it’s happy to end :)

(gifs not mine! he’s so cute oh my)

Peter Maximoff always had a tendency to go fast. That much could be seen in literally everything about him. The way he moved, the way he thought and if he was excited enough or angry enough, the way he spoke. You, of course, figured all of this out the hard way.  

It had started out innocently enough, some of the younger guys, mainly Scott, had made fun of Peter for not having a girlfriend, Peter, in response to the teasing told them that he did. He definitely didn't, but they didn't need to know that. And that's how you found yourself in your current predicament.

Peter was sprawled out on your bed, his legs hanging off the foot of the bed as he whined, “(Y/n) please! I need to prove I have a hot girlfriend!" 

Not looking up from the work you were doing at your desk, you laughed at him, "But Pete, you don't have a hot girlfriend."

The silver haired boy sighed audibly, lifting himself to sit up on your bed, at the same moment you spun around in your seat to face him.

"Nooooo…" He drew out and you shook your head in agreement, "No." You confirmed.

"But!" Peter shouted, pointing an accusing finger at you, a cheeky grin on his lips and his dimples peaking through.

"I do have a hot best friend!" He stated, wiggling his eyebrows at you, his grin turning pleading.

Peter was your best friend, ever since he'd joined the school of mutants he immediately became your favourite person and soon enough he'd claimed your best friend position. And vice versa.

You knew him better than he knew himself. So you also knew exactly what he was suggesting and you wouldn't lie and say that you never entertained the idea of being in a relationship with your doe eyed best friend, because you have, you've thought about it, you've thought about it way too much. 

For that reason you shook your head furiously at what he was insinuating, "Pete, no." 

He huffed, jumping off the bed and speeding infront of you, his eyes boring into yours. 

"Come on, sweetheart! It's not like we don't act like we're dating already, it's foolproof!" He reasoned and you couldn't dispute that you and Peter did act like a couple, and often got mistaken as already being a couple.

But still, you just couldn't put yourself through that sort of emotional stress, you wouldn't do it for a total stranger so you definitely wouldn't do it for your best friend who you've been harboring a huge crush on for the bones of a year. 

The risks it posed for your heart and your friendship with the speedster were just too high.

You couldn't help the laugh that fell from your throat as you watched Peter Maximoff, king of pranks and master of meaningless flirtations literally graveling on his knees in front of the chair you were sitting on. 

"Peter just because we cuddle in the common room and you call me 'sweetheart' sometimes does not mean we act like a couple."  right?

You told him only to be met by a frustrated whine, "Come on! I'm begging you! Just for like a week! Just to prove that I can get a hot girl to date me!" 

You stayed silent, looking at him expressionlessly. Don't give in.

"Please!" He pressed again. Don't.

"Pretty please! Hey, I'll even let you set the ground rules??? Huh???" He tried to persuade you, although he was speeding through every word he said, if you weren't used to him you probably wouldn't have caught half of what he was saying.

Don't. Fucking. Do. It.

His hands grabbed yours as he pulled you both up into standing position, he held your hands softly and gave you the puppy dog eyes that he knew always made you almost melt before releasing a final pleading, "Please?" 

Furrowing your eyebrows you let out the most dramatic sigh you could muster, but you couldn't hide the small smile growing on your lips "Fine, but you owe me." 

You're a fucking idiot. You scolded yourself silently. But how could you ever say no when he looks at you like you're the answer to everything? God you were more screwed than you thought.

"Yes! God I love my girlfriend!" He told you excitedly, pulling you in for a tight hug and kissing your cheek.

When Peter left your room that night your head was spinning and you couldn't be sure how things would go tomorrow.

Maybe you were overthinking it? You'd hold his hand for a few minutes and try and convince a bunch of sixteen years olds that your best friend could successfully obtain a girlfriend and then that would be it. But did you really want that to be it? No, you wanted more, but that you already knew. 

You'd set some ground rules with Peter to "protect the sanctity of our friendship" to which he'd laughed, but in reality the rules were to protect you from your own feelings.

Rule 1) No Kissing on the lips unless absolutely necessary

Rule 2) The lie would only be told to the students and not any of your colleagues (because you knew Peter's first stop would be rubbing your fake relationship in Warren Worthington III's face, they had some kind of light-hearted competition going on, you don't really know what it's about but you made it very clear to your best friend that you wanted no part in it.)

Rule 3) Peter cannot make comments about your fake sex life 

Rule 4) You had to wear an item of Peter's clothing to, in his words, "really sell the story."

And the final rule was, of course, no telling anybody it wasn't real.

The next day you and Peter walked hand and hand toward the common room where you could already hear Scott, Kurt, Jubilee and Jean chatting and having fun.

"You're so immature you know that, babe" You whisper quietly to your "boyfriend" while bumping his shoulders with your own which was clad in the material of his silver jacket. 

Abiding by the rules was all you were doing, you definitely weren't enjoying the way the sleeves were slightly too long so they covered your hands as far as your knuckles, or the way his scent covered you, that cologne he always wore which you happened to love the smell of and you definitely weren't enjoying the fact that despite the jacket being about two sizes too big for you it seemed to just fit. No, definitely not, you were just following Peter's rule.

He only laughed, "What's immature about wanting to show off my beautiful, stunning, hot, loving, smart, talented-" 

You had to cut him off before he could say the word "girlfriend" because you weren't his girlfriend, and hearing it would surely make you want to cry, right there in the hallway.

"Alright Romeo, I've already agreed to your babyish plan to psych out some teenagers, you don't have to butter me up."

As you entered the common room, Peter's face broke into a mischievous grin and you had a deep feeling in your stomach that this little show was going to go way too far. Hoping that this wouldn't be the end of your little show wasn't serving you very well at the moment.

You were absolutely screwed.

"Hey, nerds." Peter called out, pulling you into the room slightly behind him.

"Seriously, Maximoff? (Y/n)?" Scott asked as soon as he noticed your linked hands, his voice was disbelieving, you were a little offended honestly.

What's wrong with me? You wondered, if a pubescent sixteen year old boy could find faults in you maybe Peter was seeing the same things? Maybe that's why he doesn't really want you to be his girlfriend.

It seemed Peter noticed your panicked train of thought as he let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulder protectively, "What's that supposed to mean, Summers?"  

One of the things you loved about Peter was that he always defended you, even if you don't need defending he always has your back. But now wasn't the time to think about that, you could obsess about the feelings you so desperately try to hide for him later.

Noticing the growing irritation between the older 'couple' Scott shook his head, "No, nothing! (Y/n)'s hot, it's just, you two definitely aren't a thing."

At least they don't think I'm ugly, I guess.

 He stated, crossing his arms as the other teens nodded in agreement. All except Jean who was looking at you suspiciously.

"Why not?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow. 

As the two boys entered what was essentially a pissing contest about how Peter couldn't handle you which turned into how Scott couldn't handle Jean and as it went on and on, Jean entered your head.

'You're not really dating are you?' she asked you, something hiding in her voice, a question within a question, there was something more she wanted to say.

'Why's me and Peter being together so hard to believe?' You asked her in response, sure Jean was a telepath but you've mastered the art of manipulating what she could see when she peaked in your mind, which is probably why she was so confused.

Not that you really had anything to hide from her, what you felt for the man arguing with the teen in the middle of the common room was genuine and authentic, but better safe than sorry.

'It's just… Don't you think you could do a little better?" She pushed and then you understood that had been what she really wanted to ask in the first place.

The question made you angry, how quick they were to lessen Peter's worth. This wasn't just an issue with the younger X-Men, but with the older ones too. It seemed that nobody could appreciate Peter Maximoff for the amazing person and mutant that he is. You knew it made him insecure, he'd confided in you on so many different occasions about his self worth and because of this you'd developed a need to throw hands with anyone that treated him like a joke.

He saw himself as a loser, so he let people treat him like one.

Before you could respond to Jean's question you were interrupted by Peter whining in your ear, "Baaaaaabe, tell these guys we're together!" 

Letting out a sigh to calm yourself, hiding your angry string of thoughts from Jean was exhausting, you let a small smile settle over your face and wrapped both your arms around Peter's middle, if they wanted a show you'd give them one.

"Okay kids, Peter and I are dating, we have been for the past while. We didn't say anything because we wanted to keep it on the down low but since it's out there now, yes, we are in fact, a couple." You confirmed, confidence clear in your voice, you were asserting the facts.

Peter nodded in agreement, a smug smile on his face, he looked so proud to call you his girlfriend and you felt a pang in your chest when you reminded yourself that it was only for show.

"How'd he manage to get a girl like you though? I don't get it." Scott piped up again and you couldn't hide the exhausted expression that crossed your face.

It got to Peter, the blatant disbelief towards him, you could tell his face fell ever so slightly before he regained his composure. So you squeezed him a little tighter.

"Well, he's sweet, he's caring, he's loyal, he knows me pretty much better than I know myself, he makes me smile and laugh, he knows exactly what to do when I'm sad and sure, sometimes he can be a little much and a huge pain in the ass but it's worth it." You told the group, squeezing Peter with every word you said, smiling at the little "hey" he let out when you called him a pain in the ass, the way he was looking down at you was so pure and loving that you completely forgot to remind yourself that it was just make believe.

Your description of your fake-but-wish-it-was-real-boyfriend received an "aww" from Jubilee and a smile from Kurt, Jean and Scott however, still looked apprehensive.

Keeping the red head out of your business was giving you a headache.

"Prove it." Scott challenged as you and Peter looked at each other in confusion, how were you supposed to prove it? These kids sure were ballsy.

"Kiss." Jean added and you couldn't physically stop your eyes from rolling and your lips from forming a smirk.

You were about to break your biggest rule, but you didn't care. The whole interaction with the teens had brought Peter's self-esteem way down and you could predict he'd be crying on your shoulder because of it later on tonight. You weren't going to deny him a kiss and you absolutely weren't going to embarrass him in front of Scott fucking Summers.

"Ok." You removed your arms from around Peter's middle and brought one hand to his cheek and let the other tangle in his Silver hair, he didn't miss a beat, immediately he pulled you flush against him and placed his hands on your hips, his movements were deliberate as if he'd been imagining kissing you for as long as you'd been imagining kissing him. You pushed that thought away, the truth that he didn't think about you that way hurt too much.

His lips met yours and you could've sworn you felt sparks flying from where your lips connected. The kiss was short but it was passionate and really, really, really good. His lips were chapped but soft and the way that they moved in sync with your own sent your head spinning and your heart flipping.

When you pulled away, Peter's lips chased yours and you giggled as he placed pecks on your lips multiple times before he finally allowed you to push him away.

If you weren't so caught up in the moment you would've cried, that was everything you've been wanting for so long, but it wasn't real. You didn't think about it though, it would get a chance to bring a tear to your eye later. When you're alone.

"Alright you're dating, Jesus, get a room." Scott scowled as he scrunched up his face in disgust at the display of affection he and his own girlfriend had demanded.

Laughing, you grabbed Peter's hand in yours and began walking back towards his room, you didn't feel like answering any more awkward questions and you needed a minute to recover from Jean's constant attempts to get into your subconscious.

Once you'd both entered Peter's room and shut the door behind you, you finally let your guard down with a loud sigh, flopping down on Peter's bed and throwing an arm across your eyes to block out the light.

"Jean's mind poking really is relentless huh?" Peter said, flopping down beside you. 

"Tell me about it. She's persistent as fuck." You laughed, turning your head to look at Peter, who was already looking at you.

"That no kissing rule didn't last too long, couldn't resist?" Peter asked jokingly but you could tell that he wanted to know what caused you to abandon your number one rule.

Chewing on your cheek, you debated on whether or not you should spill all or just tell him what he needed to know at this moment in time. Going this the latter you sighed again.

"They were being assholes, I wasn't gonna embarrass you by saying no, was I?" Peter's smile was soft but it didn't reach his eyes, your voice was quiet when you added, "Besides, you looked like you needed a kiss."

His face was now turned to the ceiling with a thoughtful look adorning his features. 

As you both laid side-by-side on the unmade double bed, close enough that your arms were touching but not close enough for your fingers to be intertwined, you, a hopeless romantic, hopelessly falling for your best friend as you wear his favorite jacket and lay on his bed. And Peter who looked like he was trying to figure out the universe's greatest mystery. As you laid with each other, a heavy silence settled over you both, until Peter turned his face back to you, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Can I ask you something, (Y/n)?" Nodding wordlessly, you turned your entire body to face him, so that you were laying on your side.

"Am I really that bad?" He asked, his brown eyes staring into yours.

"What do you mean?" You asked him, you knew where this conversation was about to go, but he had a lot to say and you wanted to let him let it all out.

"All those guys back there, they didn't think I could really be your boyfriend… and hey they're probably right, you could do better. But is it really that unbelievable that someone could love me?" His last question came out cracked and tears filled his chestnut eyes.

Your own eyebrows furrowed now, you put your hand on his face and brushed the tear that slipped from his eye away. "No, Pete. What's unbelievable to me is that people can't see how fucking incredible you are." You told him, your emotions coming through in your voice, anger and sadness taking over.

"No," Peter shook his head, again returning his face to look at the ceiling before he went on, "they're right, I couldn't get a girl, especially not one like you."

That hurt, you have to admit that it hurt you so bad to hear him talk so badly about himself but what hurt most was the fact that Peter didn't want a girl that was you, no, just one that was like you.

"You have a girl like me, Pete." You reminded him sadly, turning your own face to the ceiling.

Who knew one outing as a fake couple would be all it took to make you fall apart? You did, you knew from the beginning.

Peter was upset, it was obvious by the way he spoke next, too fast and before he thought.

"No, I don't, not really. You're this incredible, pretty girl. You're talented and your mutation is useful and everyone loves you! I'm just this loser who people don't take seriously and pretty soon you're going to realize that and just leave like everyone else." 

The pit of your stomach has never felt so deep before, it was so clear to you now, in his voice, it was there, he didn't trust you to stay. And that fact hurt more than any heartbreak of rejection ever could.

Sitting up on the bed, you looked down at him, fighting the tears that were attempting to gather in your eyes.

"I know you're not a loser, Peter. I know you're incredible and talented and maybe the best friend I've ever had. But if you think I'm shallow enough to leave you behind, for some preppy asshole, you really don't trust me as much as I trust you." You finished, tears falling freely as you got off of the bed and made your way toward the door before he sped infront of you, standing between you and the door.

His eyes were wide, like a deer caught in headlights, "That's not what I meant to say!" 

You didn't say anything, just stared at him, tears falling and waiting for him to say his piece.

"I trust you more than anyone, you know everything about me, I'm sorry my mouth was going too fast and it came out all wrong." He was still rushing through his words but he took a deep breath before going on again.

"What I was trying to say is," he swallowed thickly, he was nervous, scared even, "you're amazing, you're my best friend and I've had this scenario running in my head of maybe being more than just friends. But I was afraid if I told you and you didn't feel the same you'd leave because of how awkward it would be." 

Your heart was pounding, if you had a few broken ribs after this conversation  you wouldn't be surprised, "oh."

"And when I suggested you be my fake girlfriend you were so reluctant that I figured I never had a shot. But then we kissed and I just can't come to terms with a kiss like that meaning nothing." He told you, hands finding yours, carefully.

This time it was you who was speaking before thinking, "I'm in love with you."

Hearing the words fall out of your mouth, your eyes widened, months of trying to hide the fact and you managed to let it slip out into the open without it even crossing your mind first.

Taking a shaky breath you decided to speak again and hopefully ease Peter out of the shocked state your declaration put him in.

"I didn't wanna fake date you because I wanted to real date you and I was afraid it would hurt too much. That kiss, it was real for me, I had kinda been wanting to do it for a while." You confessed to him, squeezing his hands that were still holding onto yours.

A smile overtook his face, his dimples showing and his eyes brightening, his face was lit up with what seemed like pure happiness like a puppy who's owner just got home from work.

"I love you too." 

Oh thank God.

"I knew you couldn't resist." He added shooting you a cheeky wink before he pulled you against his chest, his face was so close to yours, your noses touched and his lips met yours again.

This time was different, though. It was real and you both knew it and both wanted it.

His fingers intertwined with yours as he pulled his lips away from yours, his boyish smile coming back as he rested his forehead against yours.

"So, um, do you maybe wanna be my girlfriend, like really be my girlfriend?" He asked, still nervous about asking you despite the fact you'd both just made your feelings toward each other perfectly clear.

"I'd love to." You replied, connecting your lips to his again.

Safe to say, fake dating Peter turned into a total shit show but you're really glad it did.

let me know what you think <33

[officialthiamlibrary]

Hi guys, welcome to our new weekly segment: Feature Friday. Once a week, we’ll be hyping up one of your favourite authors and recommending five of their fics, some old and some new, so that you can re-read all of your old favourite stories, or maybe even discover a new favourite! If you have someone you’d love to see in this segment, send us an ask here on Tumblr, or message one of our helpful mods on discord.

This week, our author is none other than parttimehuman. From the 116 Teen Wolf stories she’s published, 61 include our Thiam boys. She’s known for her powerful works that have you looking deep inside yourself, connecting with the characters and her worlds in incredible ways. Whether it be angst or fluff you’re looking for, there’s also a smattering of hope and a journey to redemption that you can find as you dive into her works. She’s a true master of her craft and the Thiam fandom would not be the same without her. 

Right Here [ Teen // 9K // Complete ]

Someone's been covering Beacon Hills in pride art for all of pride month. Theo is the son of the sheriff who's looking for the vandal, and he has a secret. He's the only person in Beacon Hills who knows the artist.

This fic will definitely tug on your heartstrings with its powerful messages scattered throughout, weaving an intricate tale that will settle deep in your soul. If you’ve ever felt a little lost or unsure of your place in the world, this fic is for you. It reminds us all that we have a part to play and that we matter, regardless of who we are and how we identify. We belong. We matter. We exist. And the world is a better place because we are in it. 

***

Behind His Smile [ Explicit // 34K // Complete ]

In this High School AU, the beginning of the relationship with everybody’s darling Liam couldn’t come anymore out of the blue to introvert Theo. He’s been in love with the boy’s incredible smile forever, but when things go great and move fast between the two of them, he can’t help but think it’s all a little too good to be true. Although he’s half expecting for everything to turn out to be just a really amazing dream, he’s still deeply shocked when he hears that Liam set the treehouse he’s been building in his backyard on fire, almost burning the Geyers’ house down as well. Liam shuts himself off completely, nothing makes sense to Theo until he learns about Liam’s diagnosis with bipolar disorder. ‘Behind His Smile’ is the title of a comic book Theo creates for Liam, telling the story of a man who was robbed of his magical smile, a hero who has to fight evil and himself to get it back.

Oh. My. GOD. This fic is powerful and a beautiful description of what it’s like to battle with mental health issues and how it can impact the lives of the people closest to you. She holds no punches here, diving into the ugly reality of mental health and bringing these characters to life. We laughed. We cried. We hoped. We got so much more than we bargained for and we could not be happier with this masterpiece. She provides justice to mental health with this narrative and it will truly take your breath away. It’s raw and honest and painful at times, but it’s beautiful through and through. 

***

Highway to Hope [ Mature // 41K // Complete ]

Theo has been obsessed with this youtube guy who posts videos of himself singing in his car. Watching every video there is of Liam, Theo finds himself falling in love. When Liam's songs get more and more sad and dark, Theo starts worrying. The shadows beneath Liam's eyes get darker in every new clip, his voice huskier, his driving a little too fast, a little too reckless. Paying close attention, reading between the lines, Theo can tell Liam is not okay. And then the catastrophe happens.

This is one of the most heartbreaking and emotional fics we at OTL have ever read. It’s about friendship and mental illness and recovery, and your heart will be in your throat for nearly every word. Not for the faint of heart, but we promise that this story is definitely worth it!

***

Truth or Chimera [ Explicit // 18K // Complete ] 

The pack playing truth or dare and it escalates quickly for Liam.

For a date that was based on a dare, boy does Liam go out of his way to make it a nice one. He’s so awkward and begrudgingly sweet that you can’t help but grin through his fumbled attempts. If enemies to lovers is your jam then this is definitely for you. Angsty and sweet and deliciously smutty, you’ll be hooked from the moment Liam asks Theo on a date right through to the steamy end. 

***

Compared to the Moon [ Explicit // 143K // Complete ] 

Theo Raeken is back in Beacon Hills. He is an outcast in a world where people show their true colors as actual colors beneath their skin, because Theo himself is a blank page. Joining the lacrosse team, he hopes for one last shot at finding a real place to belong. But things don´t start off too great, especially not between him and the team captain, Liam Dunbar.

From the beginning to the end, this story will hook you in and keep you immediately spamming the next chapter button, and scowling every time the “you have already left kudos here” alert pops up. This story is completely immersive, highly emotional, and will bring you to the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. It’s the sort of fic that changes you by having read it, and we hope you enjoy it as much as we do!

[eijiroukiriot]

hello! here it is! my shittyman stinkboy playllist! i have way, way more krbk-adjacent playlists than just 3, but since i’ve written abt my krbk playlist and my kirishima playlist i figured i should complete the trilogy! i wish i had smth real to post for bkg’s birthday but exposing what i imagine his shitty taste in music to be like is something, at least. happy birthday trashman 

Spotify Link

song descriptions under the cut!

this is so much longer than my kirishima playlist solely because half the songs in here are just randomly-selected emo hits. for convenience’s sake and to justify not explaining most of them, i’ve split them up into categories! 

Category One: Emo Kid Repertoire (read: songs that are on here for no particular reason, other than that i strongly believe bkg has bad taste in music) 

i. Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down - FOB ii. Punk Rock 101 - Bowling For Soup iii. Teenagers - MCR iv. My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark - FOB v. The Phoenix - FOB vi. You’re Gonna Go Far Kid - The Offspring  vii. Somebody Told Me - The Killers viii. I’m Not Okay (I Promise) - MCR ix. Addicted - Simple Plan x. Hope Less Romantics - Make Out Monday xi. Next Ex Girlfriend - Bowling For Soup xii. Don’t Let It Be Love - Bowling For Soup xiii. I Don’t Wanna Rock - Bowling For Soup (can you tell that my BFS phase was my emo phase)  xiv. A Walk Through Hell - Say Anything xv. Gives You Hell - The All-American Rejects xvi. Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na) - MCR xvii. Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Green Day (i wasn’t gonna put this on here and then i thought of the shots of bkg sulking around in the dark in the most recent op and started laughing) 

Category Two: Edgy JRock Songs I Put On My Workout Playlist

xviii. Lost Time Memory - Jin xix. Children Record - Jin xxi. Goya no Machiawase - Hello Sleepwalkers xxi. Kyouran Hey Kids - The Oral Cigarettes 

Category Three: Explosion Puns

xxii. Pow Pow - Elris xxiii. Bboom Bboom - Momoland 

Category Four: Songs From My Krbk Playlist That Remind Me Mostly of Bkg

xxiv. Bad Enough For You - All Time Low (please read the desc on the krbk playlist post because i feel like this one doesn’t make sense otherwise)  xxv. My Best Friend’s Hot - The Dollyrots (ok this one explains itself)  xxvi. Idfc (acoustic ver) - Blackbear  xxvii. Crush - Weki Meki xxviii. Animal - Neon Trees

Category Five: Kiribaku-ish Songs That Aren’t On My Krbk Playlist Because They’re Almost Entirely About Bkg

xxix. Su-suki Nanka Janai! - bandori lol 

“Even so, your face is too close, and you’re pressuring me with those eyes!!

It’s not like that! It’s not like that, so - listen, I’m not that—— soft!!!” 

-okay listen the dialect used in the chorus is REALLY tough-mean-teenage-boy (i’d expect the words it uses to be said like “that’s not it, stop it!!” but really it sounds like “you’re fucking wrong, shut your mouth!!!”) so i thought of bkg and laughed bc this song really doesn’t fit him at all 

xxx. Kissaphobic - Make Out Monday 

“It's cute when you do it, but Cupid is stupid -

He shot the wrong lovers” 

-this song is...really good! very dramatic, very full of deep-seated anxieties that the person who loves you must just be mistaken because you’re not ready to be loved like that. very reminiscent of the boy imo 

xxxi. I Drew You Once In Art Class - Antarctigo Vespucci 

“When will I ever get it right? Maybe I’ll never treat you right

I’m gonna leave when you say you wanna leave, and shut up when you say you need to sleep” 

-i love this song so much the actual music is so goofy and lighthearted while the singer is taking himself SO seriously. it’s like a perfect musical representation of spiraling thinking “oh god i fucked up this is the end of our relationship for sure” and then realizing. “oh wait i’m fine. i’m gonna do better” and then having one (1) less than ideal interaction and spiraling all over again. there’s something really funny abt it to me i always imagine bkg giving kirishima a cd and kirishima being like “i don’t really like this band though?” and then bkg flopping face down on his bed like “it’s fucking over. i did it. it’s over now” 

xxxii. Everytime We Touch - Cascada

-it’s everytime we touch 

xxxiii. Bad Mood - The Vaccines 

“Oh, you look disappointed in me

Oh, am I not as thoughtful as you thought I’d be?” 

-i highlight that line in particular because that’s what MAKES it for me. that’s what makes me picture a krbk breakup scenario every time where bkg wakes up the day afterwards still fuming and thinking abt it nonstop, and everyone’s like “hey man are you okay?” and bkg’s like “are you fucking surprised that i was never as good as you thought i was? fuck off i’m not some perfect boyfriend” feeling very edgy 

-in reality no one’s thinking that but he’d sure convince himself they are 

xxxiv. Give Myself To You - Vista Kicks

“I know you can do better than me

But I cannot do better than you”

-all of these are so angsty but i see this as like, a quiet self hatred anthem...aw i don’t want to describe it any more because i’m making myself sad on my own boy’s birthday but yeah i think of him w this one 

xxxv. No Lover - Jetty Bones 

“Romance seems like a means to an end

Maybe I don't need a lover, I just need the friend who carried my weight when my back was sore” 

-i don’t...remember why i put this on here...huh...i guess it’s just a punky song abt being mad about being in love 

xxxvi. Everyone But You - The Front Bottoms

-i’ve gotten this song suggested as a krbk song so many times and while i don’t actually like it much i do agree that i see the bkg energy so it’s here (i actually listen to my krbk playlist sometimes unlike this one lol) 

xxxvii. Teenager In Love - Neon Trees 

“There was a point when we were cool, 

And it never went bad 'til you were holding his hand” 

-i just heard this for the first time pretty recently, but i really love the balance of the “oh god being young and in love is the worst” and “oh to be young and angsty and be convinced being in love is the worst”. softly laughing from the future about how resistant you were to something that’s turned out so well for you

Category Six: kpop songs about thinking you’re better than the people around you or as i like to call it Bkg Trying Desperately To Hype Himself Up 

xxxviii. Don’t Matter - Produce 101 

xxxix. You Think - SNSD

Category Seven: Other

xl. RBB - Red Velvet

“OH MY GOD (he’s a really bad boy) he’s a really bad boy he’s a REALLY BAD BOY” 

[heartbreak-of-a-marauder]

Perpetual Sensitivity (3)

Title: That’s Life

Pairing: Remus Lupin x OC

Summary: Things remain tense between Rosie and Remus as they try their best to work together, but hurt feelings are difficult to ignore, and they learn that sometimes it’s better to rant and rave than let it eat them up alive.  

Words: 1,769

Note: Feelin’ more than a little angsty with this one, please enjoy! Links to the previous parts are below:

<- 3 ->

~*~*~*~*~

Present - Rosalia

Quietly I slipped into the duelling hall, but still managed to catch the attention of everyone’s favourite werewolf. Years of training allowed me to see how his demeanour turned cold momentarily as we made eye contact but as soon as his focus returned to the class of First Years in front of him, he resumed his usual warm demeanour. I couldn’t help but feel a little putout but, it was to be expected. Instead of making a fuss I walked around the mixed group of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw First Years and stood with Remus at the front of the room because whether he liked it or not, we were going to have to work together.

“Now I would like for you all to get into pairs as we will be practising the formalities of duelling and the body binding spell – Petrificus Totalus. Now don’t get your wants out yet, just say it nice a clearly… Petrificus Totalus” He spoke clearly in a commanding way that had all of the student’s mesmerized. 

“Petrificus Totalus” the class replied back in unison. 

“Well done” Remus praised, almost like he knew how much a little encouragement could go.

“One more time please,” he asked and their reply shortly followed. 

After that he allowed them to split off into their chosen pairs to practice the spell, many didn't master it and all their wands produce was a small whining noise that soon died out but never the less Remus continued to support them by giving them snippets of advice that could vastly improve their skill much like he had done for me during our Second Year at Hogwarts. For the lucky few that did manage to successfully produce the spell, I was left to help out their partner and answer any burning questions they had about today's lesson. After 30 minutes of the exercise, Remus called the room to attention to announce that they would be getting the chance to witness some of the spells they would learn throughout the year as well as proper duelling etiquette. 

“Miss Black, if you would be so kind as to accompany me to the platform…” Remus politely asked.

I was a little surprised by his request, not because of what he was asking me to do but because he addressed me directly – all be it without casting so much as a glance in my direction.

“Please gather around but keep a safe distance from the platform itself for your own safety.” The young children did as they were told.  

We faced each other in the middle of the platform and at this proximity, I could see how much the fifteen years had actually aged him. We brought their wands up to our faces before dropping them to our sides, bowing low as a sign of respect before walking five paces away from each other. In our Hogwarts days, Remus was the better dualist but after all of my training and experience as an Auror, we were more of an equal footing. We assumed the starting stances and waited in silence. The children watched, eyes wide, mouths open expecting nothing less than a fantastic show.  

“Petrificus Totalus!” I exclaimed, but just like in our childhood Remus was ready for the attack, and countered it with the spell ‘Protego’.  

The dual continued, spells being shot back and forth, one after the other in a ceaseless flurry that made the watching students wonder if the pair were too equally matched. Both had vast experience in duelling from their schooling years as well as the First Wizarding War but surely one had to be better than the other. The minutes that flew past saw us both gain the upper hand but subsequently lose it, this continued for a while but sometimes one of us would be moments away from victory however the other would snatch it away allowing the duel to continue. The longer the battle the more tired Remus and I got, meaning we weren't as sharp in casting spells, countering attacks or defending ourselves.  

With slightly ragged breathing we looked at each other before I seized the opportunity.

“Expelliarmus!” I had expected to have the final say in our duel and finish it but Remus wouldn't give me that victory not with the mood he was in. He cast a defence spell before quickly following it with ‘Expelliarmus’ too. hadn't expected the follow-up attack and was surprised to feel my wand leave my hand. 

The room erupted into applause. We bowed once more and as I made a mental note to never underestimate Remus Lupin again. He went on to talk about how etiquette should always be upheld in any duel as a sign of respect - even if they didn't like their opponent. Smiling to myself I couldn't help think that even though what he was saying was true, it may be slightly aimed at me…Maybe. Then again it might not. The only person that would know is Remus Lupin himself. 

Once Remus had finished his speech, he gave the first years homework then dismissed them leaving us alone. I watched his back as he walked to the door to leave.  

“You always were a great teacher” I offered in a bid to get him to stop, however, he never missed a beat and continued away from me, I had to widen my steps in order to catch up with his retreating form. It may have looked a little odd to anyone watching, our pace was so fast someone may have thought that we were running away. I struggled at first to keep the same pace as Remus, his longer legs giving him the advantage, once I'd fallen into step alongside him, I tried again to strike a conversation. 

"What topic is tomorrows lesson with the third years going to be?" Although the question was innocent it still earned a quick scowl and was met by silence. 

I sighed through my nose before carrying on "I understand that nocturnal beasts won't be started for weeks so that leaves things like Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks and Salaman-"  

"What I teach is to be no concern of you Miss Black" he spoke calmly but the indignant way he said my name had me thinking something different. 

"No concern?" I replied, slightly baffled. 

"Precisely" 

I was quiet as we walked the remainder of the corridor and crossed the threshold of the classroom, once the door had closed, I spoke again copying Lupin's indignant tone.  

"Actually Mr Lupin I think you'll find that I am here to assist in the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts, so it is my concern too"  

"I am not going to be in need of your help" 

"I think you find you are, which was one of the reasons why Dumbledore recruited me"  

Remus didn’t reply and went about his business setting out textbooks ready for his next lesson. 

"If it was anyone else you wouldn’t mind working with them... would you?" I questioned after a while. 

Showing me his back, he stopped what he was doing allowing me to walk around the room until there was just a desk between us. He studied the cover of the books he was currently holding like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. 

"Remus say something please"  

"Your sudden reappearance opens up a lot of questions but I have nothing to say to you" he replied with the same calm tone as before. 

"Look, there's no need for any sort of friendship or anything but you need to talk to me" I reached out and touched his arm, the worn fabric of his cardigan felt rough under my fingertips and I could feel the heat he was emitting but soon after all I could feel was the coolness of the air, he had moved away at such an impressive speed you could've sworn that I’d burned him. Crossing my arms over my chest I continued to look at him, his gaze still trained on the hardwood floor. 

"Fifteen years..." His whispered barely audible. 

"Pardon?" I replied in a similarly soft tone. 

"Fifteen Years," Remus repeated clearly, his head lifted and he locked eyes with mine. I opened my mouth to speak but Remus beat me to it. 

"For fifteen years you let me believe that you were dead. Fifteen years I have been alone while you've been off gallivanting, but that’s just typical of you, isn't it! You never were one to care for the feelings of others though were you?-" He tried his best to keep himself composed but with every passing syllable I knew he was losing his grip.  

"Remus that’s not fa-" 

"Life is not fair!" His voice was raised slightly, not enough for others to hear but loud enough that I flinched. 

"That’s your response to everything! Always was, always will be" I replied in the same way, beginning to feel equally upset. 

"Because it's true!" He slammed the remaining textbooks onto the nearest desk. 

"No!" I shouted "You think that everything is unfair simply because of your blasted condition" 

"And there is nothing I can do to change that! But you one the other hand, you could've reached out! It takes mere moments to send a message"  

"I... Remus, it's..." I tried desperately to quickly form an argument against him but came up with nothing 

"That's all I needed, one message, something that let me know that you were alive, for God's sake is that too much to ask?!" He was right, it would've taken only a moment, but that could've compromised everyone's safety. 

"Remus you wouldn't understand,"  I said exasperated. 

"Why? Because of my condition," He seethed.

"Keep your voice down! That’s not what I meant and you know that" 

"How am I supposed to know anything when you won’t tell me!"  

I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a harsh huff of air, it was no good shouting at each other and if we carried on we would undoubtedly get louder and continue on in circles, there would be no way to explain the reasons why when we were both in a mood. It would only lead to more frustration. Casting him one last look I turned on my heel and left him standing in the middle of the classroom.  

As I left part of me hoped that he would follow and try to stop me but he didn’t. So, I continued on my way back to my rooms. My strides long and fast, my expression like thunder; matching my mood. 

[shirorozutriea]

Experienced a Loss, but dared to Confront it

I don't know how would you guys react to a certain OOC here. I hope you don't mind it. This is an AU, so yes, there's bound to be OOCs, I hope you would still like it nonetheless. Day 5: Loss

Months have passed since the beginning of our beloved couple's relationship bloom. The two will admit that that day was the best thing that happened in their life. And so far so good, everything is all happy and fine. No drama, no angsty walkthroughs, no fights except for the countless of debates of who's the most wonderful girlfriend.

 “O Romeo, Romeo, where art thou, Romeo—again why?” Asked Yang looking Weiss.

 “Why what?” Said Weiss tapping at her laptop.

 “Why Romeo and Juliet?” Asked Yang. “I get that its classical and it's made by William Shakespeare.”

 “I just happen to relate with the main heroine.” Shrugged Weiss.

 Blake picked up the book and scanned it. “Juliet Capulet.”

 Weiss nodded without looking away from her laptop. “Yes. Lady Capulet.”

 Blake gave her a look.

 “But why? Juliet is like, blinded? Or something like that.” Said Yang, looking incredulous.

 “Blinded?” Asked Weiss and Blake, blinking at her.

 “Yeah. Blinded by love. Y’know, falling for Romeo at first sight and then agreed to marry the guy despite the short time they knew each other. Like, that's ridiculous. Seriously.” Frowned Yang.

 Weiss blinked.

 “I didn't know you read Romeo and Juliet?” Asked Blake, looking flabbergasted.

 Yang pouted. “Hey! I can read classical too ya know.”

 “Yes, yes. Just surprised.” Chuckled Weiss. Yang continued to pout, which earned a giggle from the two.

 “Where's Ruby anyways?” Asked Yang, looking around for her wonderful gay sister.

 “Bought some cookies.” Replied Weiss.

 Yang laughed. “Ruby and her cookies.”

 “Yes. Just a little bit and I swear she's going to marry those cookies.” Scowled Weiss.

 Yang laughed while Blake snickered.

 “Are you serious? You're jealous on a peace of flour?” Laughed Yang.

 “Aah, young love.” Teased Blake.

 Weiss glared at the two. She then looked at her laptop and frowned.

 “What's with that frown, Weiss?” Chuckled Yang. “You look like you're on the verge of killing someone.”

 Weiss sighed. “As a matter of fact, as much as I want to, I can't. I don't want to be classified as a murderer.”

 “Who is it, Weiss?” Asked Blake, concern etching from her voice.

 “You know. The usual. Father and his persuasive arguments.” Said Weiss. “And—oh no…”

 Weiss face etched into worry and downward horrified. She can feel the cold sweat in every part of her skin, and her eyes began to water. The couple shared a look, before looking at their friend in worry.

 “Weiss.. tell us what's wrong..” Pleaded Yang.

 “He—he knows…” Said Weiss, her breath hitched in horror.

 “He knows what, Weiss?” Frowned Blake as she look at her friend whose in any moment might palpitate.

 “Ruby.. a-and I…” The two gasped.

 “Crap..” Cursed Yang. Blake looked at Weiss and held her hand.

 “Whatever happens, we're here for you, okay?” Said Blake, her ear twitching.

 “Ye-yes.. and he wanted… to-to meet her.” Weiss looked at her friends with a pleading look. “I-I don't know what to do. What if.. what if he hurt her? Oh god..”

 Blake hugged her and shush her, then brushed her hand in her hair in comfort. Yang patted Weiss’s head.

 “Don't worry. We'll be here for you. If you need to fly to Atlas with Ruby, we'll be there. Maybe not directly on the mansion you're going, but nearby, okay?” Assured Yang as she also hug Weiss.

 “Weiss?!”

 They heard Ruby shout from the door as she made her way to her crying and terrified girlfriend.

 Ruby looked at her and kissed her in her forehead and hugged her, whispering to her to help her calm down.

 “Weiss, what happened?” She asked as she wiped her tears.

 “Father.. wants to meet you…” Stuttered Weiss, taking a deep breath. Ruby's face scrunched up in anger as she brushed her hand on her hair.

 “I'll be there to face him.” Said Ruby, lightly growling. Weiss shook her head.

 “I don't want you to get hurt…” She muttered. Ruby raised a brow at this.

 “And you won't? Weiss, I love you, and I swear that I will be right beside you with every step you take.” Declared Ruby as she cupped her lover’s face.

 “Well, looks like we're on board on raiding a Schnee douche.” Grinned Yang, earning a jab from Blake.

 Ruby kissed Weiss’s forehead. “I love you and I will always be here for you.”

 And almost instantly, Weiss relaxed.

***

They were already on air towards Atlas. The skies are bright blue, with clouds ever so gently pass by. The flight towards Atlas was barely bearable, with Weiss constantly fidgeting on her sit with Ruby beside her. Ruby saw how her girlfriend tap her fingers to her knee, which is often displayed when she's anxious or nervous.

 “Weiss, it’s all going to be alright, okay?” Reassured Ruby, holding the latter’s hand entwining them. Weiss only nodded in response and rest her head to her lover's shoulder.

 Ruby brushed the white locks from Weiss’s face. Her eyes are closed and there are visible dark circles under her eyes due to a few sleepless nights before the initial flight to Atlas. Ruby couldn’t help but to worry, not for her sake when she meet the father, but for Weiss’s sake when they meet the father. To Weiss, her father was nothing but a tyrant person and an unloving father. She may had been given her necessities and others, but all with a price. From what she remembered, it was either recitals just to show face or meet the suitors.

 All passengers, please remain sitting for the duration of the flight. The plane will be landing in thirty minutes. Thank you.

 “Hey Rubes, wanna see if I can jump while the plane is landing?” Asked Yang from her right.

 Blake elbowed her girlfriend. “Yang, no.”

 Yang pouted and slouched on the chair, while Ruby giggled at the sight.

 “So, how is Ice Queen?” Asked Yang.

 Ruby's eyes drooped at the question. “Still restless. She's very anxious right now.”

 Yang frowned. “Whatever this bastard did to her, did give her a pretty bad reminder.”

 “And that bastard you're talking about is her father.” Said Blake. Yang face contorted into anger.

 “I still don’t get how a father could treat his child like that.” Grumbled Yang.

 “There’s no perfect fathers. But Jacques is beyond imperfect.” Said Blake, sighing.

 Ruby is very thankful to have a family like them. Aside from her dad, Yang and Blake had been the greatest family she ever had.

 Ruby shook Weiss to wake her up. “Weiss, we're nearly landing.”

 Weiss groaned and her eyes fluttered, showing those beautiful blue pools. Ruby grinned and kissed her forehead.

 “We're here?” Asked Weiss, groggy.

 “I think so.” Said Ruby.

 As if on cue, the speaker blasted off sentences. Along the lines of it are get ready to go down and get your things.

 The four grabbed there bags and head out to the exit, heading outside the airport only to be greeted by cold air.

 “Really? Is winter already the season here?” Asked Yang, rubbing her palms.

 “This is normal in Atlas.” Said Weiss, as if the cold never bothered her in anyway(ELSA!).

 “What are you? Elsa?” Said Yang.

 “I didn’t get the title of Ice Queen for no reason, right Yang?” Smirked Weiss. Yang gasped.

 “She accepted it!” Guffawed Yang.

 Weiss shook her head while smiling. “Come on. Father needs to see us.”

 Ruby looked at Weiss and hold her hand. Weiss jumped in surprise and looked at her, then she smiled at her and hold hers as well.

 “Well then, and off we go.” Said Ruby.

***

“What a surprise for you to bring the whole… uninvited visitors..” Said Jacques, his voice laced with sarcasm. Weiss didn’t said a thing and just held a steely gaze.

 “Now, I know you know why I called you and your undesirable choice of a suitor. I’m very disappointed to you, Weiss.” He said as he stared at the two.

 Ruby glared at him and her fist curled in anger.

 “Look how she behave. Glaring at the host of the house. Such dreadful manners.” Spat Jacques.

 Weiss snapped.

 “I can stand with you spouting nonsense at me. And the occasional stomp to my ego and pride, as well as my feelings. But, I cannot let you insulting my girlfriend and my friends slide.” Growled Weiss.

 Jacques scoffed. “Is this the result of you joining in the wrong sorts? How inadequate. Are you even worthy of a Schnee?”

 “The only not worthy of the Schnee name is you!” Snarled Ruby. Weiss looked at her in surprise, but regained her composure and didn’t oppose on her outburst.

 Jacques glowered at her. “What did you say, brat?! I’ll have you know, I made the Schnee name more well-known and more powerful. I made it grow. I shaped it to what it deserves to be.”

 “Grow? All I see is your egotistical sorry ass grow. You changed the Schnee name from what it supposed to be. And I am certain that grandfather is disappointed to you.” Spat Weiss.

 “How dare you insult me at my own house?! You ungrateful little twat!” Bellowed Jacques. He stood up from his chair and prepared to slap Weiss, but Ruby took a hold on his hand.

 “Dare? Yes, I dare. Because what you are doing as of now is unworthy of the Schnee name. You have caused millions of people out there, pain and suffering. You belittle everyone you deemed unworthy of your praise. You made countless mistakes, and have yourself involved with countless of crimes. And you ask how dare I insult you in your own house? May I remind you that this house doesn’t belong to you, but belongs to my grandfather who spent his life shaping up the good name that is a Schnee. But what did you do? You blemished the Schnee name, and polluted it. I should be asking you that question. How dare you?”

 Weiss growled at the man and glared at him. Her hands balled into a fist, her palms turning white.

 “And on top of that, you neglected your daughters and son. Well, you may have pamper Whitley because he’s a boy and would be the sole heir of yours, a carbon copy if I do say honestly. But, the question is.. is that how should a father act?”

 Weiss voice quiver and soften. Her eyes glisten and her shoulders droop. She gripped the hem of her blouse and quiver in her spot.

 “Do you even know how we—I feel? I'm like a piece of trash thrown into a pit because I don’t serve anymore purpose to you. I’m like some paper, only to be crumpled because you made a mistake and that mistake is me.”

 Weiss inhaled and sighed. Her eyes fluttered close. Her mind reeling. She wanted to tell him how she feel, what she had always felt. And now is the time.

 “You know, as a child, I've always admire you. How well you seem to cooperate with others or how well you negotiate with them. I've admired you from afar. And as a child, a father with a heart of gold is an admirable one. Also, you had this streaking determination to do what's best for everything and everyone, including us.”

 Weiss opened her eyes and looked at Jacques. His gaze was hard yet soft. Like there was a mist hidden in his eyes that are slowly fading away. She rubbed her arm and her gaze diverted from him.

 “You were a father figure… a great.. Dad. But you changed. The moment that incident happened, you changed. The day where mother had left you, you changed. And my opinion, adoration and admiration, slowly withered away. You became harsh, strict, and arrogant. You were not the same person I used to admire.”

 Weiss exhaled and swallowed the lump on her throat. There was a long pause before she continued.

 “You were lost. You lost yourself in the heap of melancholy and confusion. You lost your light… your warmth.. and you lost your love. And now, I know why you resent me and Winter. We look like mother, and I am an exact spitting image of her, both personality-wise and physical-wise.”

 Weiss was tightlipped and her eyes stared to water.

 “I lost my Mom… now I’m losing my Dad.. just exactly how fast she left us.”

 Weiss suppressed a sniffle and walked away, leaving a gaping Jacques Schnee. Blake and Yang quickly followed to comfort Weiss, leaving Ruby looking at him with a melancholy look in her face. Jacques sank in his chair and put a hand on his eyes while deeply sighing. His fingers tapped at his desk and Ruby saw familiarity at the motion.

 “She acts like you.” She spoke. The man looked at her in confusion. Ruby sat on a nearby chair and smiled sadly.

 “Deep down, she still admires you. She kind of acts like you. With the way you fidget with your hands just as the same as Weiss.” Smiled Ruby. Ruby bit her lip and looked at him. “I’m sorry for saying you are unworthy of the Schnee name, despite not knowing you in any degree.”

 Jacques slowly sighed. “You were.. right for that matter. Weiss is right. My daughter is right.”

 Jacques looked at Ruby and bowed. “I, too, apologize, for insulting you, your friends and your relationship with Weiss. I knew nothing about you to spout some.. atrocities.”

 Ruby blinked at the man. She then smiled understandingly. Jacques looked Ruby intently and spoke.

 “Have I been a bad father?” Asked Jacques, even though he knows the answer he still wanted to hear it.

 “In some degree, yes, you have been.” Ruby answered. She closed her eyes and sighed, leaning on the chair tilting her head up before opening her eyes. “But just like Weiss said, you are lost.”

 “Lost…” Mumbled Jacques. He interlocked his hands and rest his elbows on the desk, his hands covering his mouth. “I may… perhaps been lost..”

 “I know how you feel, Mr. Schnee.” Said Ruby, smiling sadly. Jacques looked at Ruby. Ruby continued to look at the black ceiling.

 “I was once.. lost. I lost and drowned myself in sadness and loneliness. It may have been in a different circumstances, but you and I were the same once.”

 Ruby sighed and draped an arm on her eyes covering them. Jacques listen intently and had gain a different light towards her.

 “True, you may have been a bad father to them… but that could change. It can change. You still have time to correct your mistakes. And that's all that matter. For you to make things straight once again.”

 Ruby sat up straight and smiled at the man. His eyes widen, tears brimming in his eyes.

 “I.. I'm sorry…” Apologized Jacques, his eyes clenched shut.

 “Don’t say sorry to me. Say sorry to your family.” Grinned Ruby. Jacques nodded and smiled at her. His eyes no longer hard and steely, instead it was warm and soft.

 “Would you mind listening to me?”

 Ruby nodded.

 “Willow.. their mother… left. And of course, as a person who loved, it hurts. I couldn’t bear the fact that she would leave us—me. But she did anyways. And after that, I drowned myself to work and neglected my children. I support them, financially, but not as father would do, but as a business man who didn't care for anyone. Self-centered, if you may.”

 Jacques sighed and tapped his finger in the desk.

 “I am a bad father. I didn’t support them as a father would do. All they had left was me, and yet, I didn’t do my responsibility. Instead, I worked and worked, and drowned myself to my own thoughts, ignoring everything and everyone.”

 Jacques chuckled sarcastically. “Pathetic, am I right?”

 Jacques sniffled and gulped. “But… if I were to be given a chance to change.. I will. I have been lost for so long..”

 Jacques looked at Ruby and smiled genuinely. “I think it’s time for me to find myself.”

***

“Weiss, are you alright?” Asked Yang.

 There they stood in the middle of the estate in the fountain. Weiss stood in front of the fountain with her head down. Yang and Blake behind her, trying to comfort her.

 “I missed my Mom. I missed Winter. Heck, as annoying as my brother is sometimes, I missed him too. And I also missed my Dad.” Weiss sighed and looked up. She covered her eyes from the sunlight, before the clouds moved and covered the sun.

 “I wish.. everything was the same as back then… but no matter how many times I wished for that to happen… the results are always the same… nothing..”

 Yang looked at Blake and stepped forward to Weiss and grabbed her arm pulling her to her chest, hugging her.

 “It's alright, Weiss. Everything is going to be alright. Let it all out.” Yang coped while running her hand on the latter’s head.

 Weiss gripped the back of Yang’s clothes and wailed. Yang held herself back from crying. She doesn’t want Weiss to feel anymore bad by adding to the fuel. Meanwhile, Blake called Winter and informed her about the talk with Jacques and asked her to take care of her sister while she go back to the estate. Blake also told her to call Whitley and come with her, the latter hesitated but agreed and ended the call.

 Weiss just sobbed and cried her pain and sorrows. Blake walked towards the two and hugged them both. It was jarring to see her like this, the Weiss who is proud and confident. Crying, sobbing… broken.. it was shocking, but she understood how she felt. If she was in her shoes, she would act the same, she would feel the same.

 Minutes later, Winter arrived with Whitley behind her. She looked at how miserable Weiss looked right now. She felt her insides churn at how her beloved sister looks right now. Meanwhile, Whitley was shocked. She may have seen her sister cry, but not like this. He felt a stinging feeling inside him after looking at her sister.

 “Winter… Whitley..?” Weiss pondered. “How? Why?”

 “Blake called and informed me of the circumstances. I brought Whitley along with me.” Said Winter. “What did he do?”

 “Nothing extreme… I just.. snapped at him and told him how I felt..” Mumbled Weiss.

 Winter looked down and sighed. “I wish I had the courage as you do, Weiss.”

 “Is that father with Ms. Rose?” Asked Whitley.

 The group perked at the question and looked behind. They looked at Jacques and Ruby. Jacques looked nervous, while Ruby is calmly smiling.

 “I guess the whole family is here.” Chuckled Ruby. She looked at the man and nodded.

 Jacques nodded and steeled himself. “I.. I am sorry for everything.. I don’t expect for you to forgive that easy.. but I want to do things right…”

 Jacques looked at Weiss. “I know I can’t bring back those old days, but I would at least make those old days as possible as I can. Your mother left.. I don’t want you to lose me once again…”

 Weiss had her eyes wide. She brought her hand to her mouth, tears running down on her cheeks. Winter was shocked, as well as Whitley. Weiss ran towards her father and hugged him tightly and sobbed in his arms. Jacques smiled and run his hands to be hair and brought his free hand to ask the other two to join, and they immediately joined.

 And that’s how everything had ended.

***

“I am so sorry to cut this meeting short, but I need to make amends.” Said Jacques. “I need to start over again.”

 Weiss smiled and nodded. Winter raised a hand.

 “Would you like me to give you assistance.. Dad?” Smiled Winter. Jacques looked at her wide eyed, but smiled and nodded.

 “Yes, please.” He said. He ran a hand on his hair and tapped his fingers on the desk. “I hope I'll get to meet you again, Ms. Rose.”

 Ruby laughed and shook her head. “Please call me Ruby. We’re family here.”

 Jacques smiled and pondered. “Family, huh? Very well, Ruby. You may call me..”

 Jacques thought for a minute. Then he looked at Weiss and Ruby, then back at Weiss. His eyes glinted mischievously. Weiss blinked at the mischievous look of her father and suddenly got nervous. Jacques smiled teasingly and spoke.

 “You're my future daughter-in-law, might as well let you call father or dad. And, don’t be formal around me.” Shrugged Jacques. Ruby looked at him bewildered, as well as the rest.

 Ruby then grinned and looked at the blushing Weiss. “You got it, Dad.”

 Weiss blushed brightly and Ruby laughed.

 A few months later…

 “Winter, do we have anything in schedule next week?” Asked Jacques as he viewed every papers in front of him.

 Winter browse to her tablet and looked at the calendar. “Nothing of some sorts, Dad.”

 Jacques hummed and thought for a minute. “Call Ruby.”

 Winter blinked and grabbed the phone from his desk and called Ruby putting it in speaker.

 “Yello? Is there something wrong, Dad?”

 “Nothing. Is Weiss there?” He asked.

 “Nope. She's with Blake right now. Why?”

 “That's good.” Coughed Jacques. “Are you and your family free next week?”

 “Next week? Hmm.. yeah. Pops is on break and our schedules are fine.”

 “Very well. Please do pack necessities. We're going to a resort.” Smiled Jacques.

 “Resort?! Whoah. Sure thing, Dad! Shall I tell them?”

 “Please do, Ruby.” He chuckled at his future daughter-in-law’s enthusiasm.

 “Okay. See ya soon, Dad.”

 “You too, Ruby.” Said Jacques and ended the call.

 “Resort, huh?” Smiled Winter. “I’ll inform Whitley.”

 Jacques chuckled and nodded. “Go ahead, Winter.”

[sssuperbartola]

Drastic Measures - Part One

kinda angsty, kinda lemonish at the end, a drizzle of comic stuff and a lil’ bit of softness on the side. Enjoy!

Rated K+ for language 

“Motherfucker!”

If she hadn’t already recognized the blaring voice from across her home’s backyard, then the cacophony of stuff being slammed on the ground from just outside her house definitely proved who was awake in the early hours of the morning in the whole house, if not in all the neighborhood even.

Dragging a long sigh of exasperation, Kagome slowly rose from her soft pillows to then sit on her side of the futon she and her loving, caring - and currently loud husband - shared, then proceeded to mentally prepare herself for the imminent tasks: wake up her brain and give her hanyou a piece of her mind on how to not wake up people.

Not a single ray of sun had made its way into the house yet, the air still lingering with the fresh but humid smell of the previous night, a mixture of wet grass and stingy resin which broke through the only wooden window of that section of the house. A light chill suddenly shocked Kagome from her last ounce of slumber and, securing the front of her yuka, she stood up from her beddings and waddle on cold feet towards the fire area to see if she could start a fire. All the while, the noises from outside never ceased, but they were more and more replaced from lewd curses and shouts.

“Why won’t you fucking stay up!? Ahhrg! Goddammit, piece of shit wood!” Inuyasha kept going, then proceeded to slam something heavy on what one would assume were logs of trees.

Kagome deeply inhaled some air to calm herself before she got herself to throw a shout as well. She halted her steps as soon as she glanced over the other side of the room where the suikan of Inuyasha’s firerat laid all crumpled and tangled on the floor. Kagome rose a curious eyebrow at the unusual sight, it was not like him to be separated from his only piece of clothing he ever wore, especially if he had to go in the crisp air of the morning like today. Another cold draft broke through the frame-built wall and Kagome had to suppress a small whimper while she miserably attempted to fasten again her night yuka; as she glanced again at the firerat, she resolved that, since he didn’t probably need it, she might as well make some use of it while she waited for the house to heat up. After all, he was the one with demonic blood, a bit of cold won’t kill him unlike her.

Circling the fire pit in the middle of the room, she quickly bend to grasp the fabric and then just as quickly draped it over herself, her small frame not even managing to fill in the large sleeves of the suikan but that was not a problem at all for Kagome, given that now it was five times warmer than before. She loved to wear his firerat from time to time, and so did Inuyasha, who always felt a spike of pride when seeing her wife adorned in his coat, even more, if it was just his coat she was wearing. It was a habit she picked up during the quest of hunting shards, especially after a rather violent battle where she almost got herself dangerously hurt. Inuyasha would sit close to her and wordlessly take his firerat and put it on her as if to protect her ins his own way: by simply being there. She collected the long sleeves and deeply inhaled the fabric permeated with Inuyasha’s scent and surrounding Kagome in her favorite smell in the world: musk, rain, fresh leaves, and something remarkably him altogether in the shape of a grumpy man with adorable ears and a golden heart.

The overwhelming sensation Kagome was immersed in almost made her forget the reason why she was there in the first place, but another yell from the man outside quickly made her regain her original mood.

“Don’t you fucking dare fall do-! OH COME ON!” was the last thing she heard from him before a loud cluttering of several objects all falling at the same time. A few spare seconds of silence were the only break allowed to Kagome before the madness started again.

“For once that I go to buy some wood, I just had to buy this low- ass quality, worm-eaten shit of wood?! “You will avoid so much work buy just buying this one”, they said! “Best woods you can find” MY ASS!”. The situation was degenerating yet again, and Kagome had enough. It wasn’t just the fact he woke her up with his enthusiastic speech with a shed of wood - it wasn’t the only reason at least. What irritated her was how reckless he was with his mouth and his actions, and most importantly, the outcome of those two combined. Kagome didn’t think of herself as a prudish woman, in her life she had had her slips of the tongue on many occasions, whether it was about an argument with her mother, her friends or a very specific person and his tactless shenanigans. However, there was a fine line between losing one’s temper and just causing chaos just for the sake of it, something she didn’t approve that much of her husband right now.

Collecting the exceedingly long piece of red cloth, she then marched to the backdoor which opened to their little green space right outside the house. As she lifted the mat covering the entrance, she was greeted with what she could only describe as a homicide scene.

Scattered on every single corner of the garden laid several chunks of broken wood, some more intact than others, but still heavily damaged. Spots of dirt and soil currently replaced the once healthy green of her beloved garden, and she swore she has never those rocks last time she went outside. But regardless of the hell of a nature surrounding her, there he was, Inuyasha, the cause of this disaster standing right in the middle of it, swinging left and right a rusted-looking ax ready to crumble to pieces. Kagome slowly took in the destruction in front of her, her eyes wide and mouth open in silent shock as ire started to boil in her veins. She took so much time preparing the soil to harvest their vegetables, she cared so much and he annihilated it. Her eyes snapped to the half-demon in front of her. Breathing heavily, he looked completely disheveled: his torso was completely bare, having discarded his under kosode a while ago,  and covered in a light layer of sweat, while his hair was barely held in a failed attempt of a bun. On another occasion, she would have ogled at that picture but right now all she wanted to do was to literally jump at him and kill him.

He didn’t notice Kagome’s presence behind him, which gave the woman an opportunity to observe him before going for the kill.

“I can’t fucking believe it, these pieces of wood are complete shit!” Inuyasha huffed while reaching for another of his victim. He placed the log in the middle of a flat rock he used as a pedestal, looked at it and, with a hand on his hip, gripped his ax more tightly. “Those vendors were fucking lying about you” he pointed at the piece of wood with the cutter, tone threatening, “and I, like a fucking idiot, believed it. God fucking damn it, Kagome is going to kill me, and all because of those fuckers”. As soon as he said those words, a cold voice reached him from behind.

“Oh do you now, Inuyasha?”

He froze on the spot at the all too familiar sound of his wife’s voice. Eyes wide in pure fear, he slowly put down the ax not wanting to move any further. However, Kagome was not having it. 

“Inuyasha”, she called back, her tone leaving no room for objection. He loudly gulped and, with a dreadful chill crawling on his back, he all too slowly turned around to face the inevitable. If Inuyasha had to choose a moment in his life where he seriously dreaded death, he would probably say it was this exact moment. His eyes locked with Kagome’s and all words died instantly on his lips. She was fuming with rage, he could tell that. He could feel her aura whirling with such anger he thought he could touch it with his hands. He didn’t even register the fact she was wearing his firerat, but could spare only a brief glance at the way her arms crossed on the fabric, her right index tapping nervously on her forearm. He has never seen so angry, and that’s telling a lot given their past arguments. The silence between the two was becoming too heavy for Inuyasha, who wished her to stop throwing daggers with her eyes. He deeply inhaled through his nostrils and was about to say something, anything! but he immediately regretted that.

“Ka-”

“What the HELL did you do to the garden!?” Kagome exploded, making him wince and lower his ears completely flat on his head at the loud yell. A few seconds of silence passed and he tried to answer her but with no avail.

“Kagome, I ca-” “I don’t give a rats-ass about your excuses! Look at this mess! It looks like some wild youki just fucking dismantled our backyard! What were you thinking of doing?!” Kagome angrily inquired more, her control clearly lost.

Inuyasha was was so scared he almost didn’t even register the series of curses she blended with her scolding. Tentatively, he tried to step closer to her, his arms gradually rising towards him as a peaceful sign of surrender, the last thing he was was to upset her more than she already was. “Kagome, just let me explain-” “What’s there to explain?! You thought you could test that excuse of wood you bought, that I understood pretty much, what about the rest of the fucking garden!?!” she argued back, and Inuyasha decided it was better to make a step backward. That move though resulted fatal for him, since she took that as an invitation to come closer to him, and he did not want that. He quickly put his arms forward to stop her from moving, “ I-I guess I went a bit…uh, over the top..b-but I swear it wasn’t my intention-” “Oh, well why, Inuyasha, I didn’t think of you like a casual gardener in your spare time! And it’s a work of arts, too! Were your taking inspiration from a bloody battlefield perhaps!?”

“Listen, Kagome-” “No! Now you listen up.” she cut him off abruptly, an accusing finger pushing at his chest. His eyes zeroed to that single finger as if it could trespass him like a sword. He quickly glanced back at her with full attention, since his life was apparently depending on that.

“I can get over the fact you woke me up with your shouting at an inanimate object, I can tolerate you cursing around for every goddamn reason, I can even understand the fact you are clearly angry at those vendors who gave you bad wood, but destroying our backyard, that we spent so much time preparing for planting our food, without any consideration of how I might feel, to just smash wood at random, that, sir, I won’t let it pass. At.All.” With every word she spat, she kept poking and poking at his chest until he was touching the stone pedestal with his ankles. He glanced briefly at his back before looking back at her, with no idea of how to get out of that situation. 

“Kagome, I’m so, so sorry”“Oh you better be, mister.” she urged on, “I expect you to pick up everything and make this place look twice as beautiful as before you step foot in it”, she came so dangerously close to his face he had a hard time breathing. 

“If I came back and see even just a strand of grass out of place” she gritted to him, her finger picking at his skin, “You better watch out because I won’t be so kind then” she whispered, but the threat behind those words made it way scarier. He stepped back to get some room to breathe but his feet met the hard pedestal and so he stumbled hard on his butt while looking up at Kagome’s figure. She regarded him one last glare, before quickly turning around and stomping back inside. If she had a physical door instead of the mat, she would have slammed it on his face, but that was the feudal era. After stepping into the house, she stood in the living room again, taking deep breaths to regain some sort of posture after the scolding of her life. She didn’t know how she said those things, but she couldn’t always be the understanding, soft-spoken girl all the times, not since her husband liked to put their house upside-down. That was a desperate situation, and in those cases, the only thing to do is calling for desperate measures.

She felt too hot all of the sudden, and only then she remembered she was wearing Inuyasha’s firerat, and so she quickly undressed before reaching the fireplace and make some breakfast for herself, since her husband would not join her anytime sooner.

Outside, Inuyasha was still left sprawled on the grass, mouth agape in shock, still unable to process the fury that had just left him. If anything, he was just glad she didn’t purify his ass on the spot, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t about to.

His hand unconsciously reached for where her finger dug on his chest, rubbing gently as if to shoo any wound that wasn’t there. His heart raced into his ribcage, adrenaline going crazy in his veins and all he could think about was the fire in Kagome’s eyes, how resolved she was with asking - no, demanding him to what she said, and the power she emanated when she came up to him, even if she barely reached his shoulders.

She was fuming, she uncontrollable, she dominating, she was…

“So damn hot” he breathless said, a smirk making its way on his face while amber eyes hid a spark of promises.

[marie-lamb-b]

The Ink DeMonth. Day 3: Stuck.

Keep your keys at hand…

I know I’m delayed, but I’m still into it until I say so! (And it won’t be soon~)

Alright, taking again these two goofs, I decided to put a bit of pepper (and vinegar and onions and blood and tears) and make a thing a tad angsty. I really enjoyed writing Sammy’s part and his growing suspicions, as oblivious as I think he is he can really get things aside for what he cares~

Tumblr Version under the cut!

(Tag Warnings: Claustrophobia, Religious content)

6.30 PM and most of the JDS employees already left the building. Only the workaholics, the ones that had no sense of time whatsoever, and those in charge of making sure everything’s left shut and closed were the only ones remaining. And between that bunch was Wally Franks.

As the time settled it, now he was holding his closet’s door open while he was checking his last chores in the list. Assuring everything was in order; tools in store, keys at hand –well, actually hanging from the knob but he still was using them to lose them so quickly. Yep, everything in order. Now he just needed to take out his notepad, cross it out from the list and check what else he needed to do before leaving… if only it weren’t for that ludicrous new system installed that made the doors to close shut whenever they were left open. That’s why Wally had to keep it held open.

“Wally, my boy!” Joey came from behind greeting the young janitor.

“Yes Mr. Drew, sir?” He answered peeking his head from over his shoulder.

“I trust you’ll leave everything as pristine as a fine china cup before leaving, won’t you.”

“Absolutely, sir.” He turned around to face him

“And don’t forget to–”

“–Shut off the lights, the heater and the front door locked close.” He completed his sentence as he reached with his free hand to the notepad. “Everythin’ in check to be done as soon as I can.” He assured to his boss.

“Excellent! Then I have nothing to worry about.”

“No, sir. Everythin’ll be a-ok, sir!” He stood straight and saluted him, unaware of releasing he door and it stumbling against him as it started to close itself. “Ouch! Sir, Mr. Drew, can I ask ye something?” He waited for a permissive nod to continue. “I get it that most of the fellas in here agreed about these doors closin’ alone, but we had to put that thing in every door?” He shoved away the door of his own closet to emphasize, with a large pleading look.

“Sorry, my boy. But this measure was taken to improve the productivity of all my crew. And you know I need them to be happy so they work hard.”

“I get it, boss.” He sighed in defeat.

“Good. Now, please don’t forget to add to that list of yours send Sammy to his home. I don’t wanna have him passed out in the break room couch again and have a grumpy music director all day tomorrow.” He requested as he pointed the musician right behind the glass of his office, slouched over his desk and quite probably muttering something.

“Send Mr. Lawrence to home…” He picked up a pen and started to scribble in his notepad, all the while he left the door loose and stumped once again against him and releasing a huff over it. “Right above shuttin’ the heater. Got it sir!”

“Very well, Wally. See ya tomorrow!” He saluted as he walked away, and the janitor granted him goodbye as well.

Alright, time to keep moving. Next thing on list: Sammy’s last cup of his special coffee. It didn’t matter whether Joey have requested it or not; it became an agreement between them two that this very last cup was Sammy’s cue to leave as soon as he emptied it. That, if he wanted Wally to keep preparing that coffee as he liked –with all that little pantry that the janitor fixed inside his closet only for him. Why Wally didn’t ask something more in return of that special treat, he didn’t know but couldn’t care less; all that worried the young janitor was the wellbeing of the oblivious music man and this guaranteed at least a proper night of rest for him.

But if he wanted to prepare his ‘specialty’, he needed to reach the hidden spot over the shelves where he built that secret pantry, and would need both arms to do it. So he glanced to the door, thinking –and quite wishing– for the door to not close as he was on the task. And resolving to hold it open, at least a sliver, he leaned his foot to support it, all the while he stretched to reach in the upper shelf.

Tapping with his bare digits, he came close to almost everything he needed. He got a clean mug, a tiny bag with bean-like stuffing –a coffee portion just for 1–, sugar, sugar, sugar… he found the shaker! Now only left the tiny cup of cream… that thing always rolled further back…

He stretched a tad more, only his middle and ring fingers used as some sort of tongs to try and reach behind. The door was barely hold by the toes of his foot as he tried to get upper. C’mon, c’mon… where’s the cream…? He could feel the little container but was simply out of reach.

He recoiled and stood firmly, crouching a little. Maybe a little quick hop would help. A glance behind; the door was still open and his foot holding it quite well. Alright, he prepared.

1… 2… 3!

A hop. A successful reach! A landing with both his feet.

“Yes!” He cheered way too quickly, as soon he heard the squeak of the hinges and the door slammed closed.

He turned his head back as soon as he heard the shutting door and the darkness consumed every single corner of the space. No light was inside the tiny closet except by the thin sliver that came from below the door’s frame.

“Ok. Ok, just– just calm down, Wally.” He tried to reassure himself as he slowly turned as he could to face the door. “You– you need to… need to use your keys! That’s it!”

Although that spark of hope rapidly faded, as he started to pat around himself, looking where could have put those –again. His patting turned into slapping, and within second his breaths also turned more and more raged. He just had those damn things! He used them to open…! To open the door…

…He left his keys hanging from the door’s knob…

…Oh, no…

Realization hit him like a truck and he barely felt his breathing hitching. His mouth turned into a dreadful wobbling smile as he tried way too hard to not fall in panic.

“Heh… he heh… Alright, this– this is– is– is not so bad! I– I just havetta– to– Sammy will notice I ha– haven’t shown yet! …Yeah! He– he’ll notice me. Right?”

…

“…Right…?”

He kept reassuring himself, feeling each hammering second like excruciatingly. Ignoring the rivulets of tears forming and descending from his eyes, clutching painfully his chest with his nails dug in just where his rosary was hanging and his pocket bible was kept.

He just had to wait and soon he’d be out, right…?

He focused on his breaths; he focused on his surroundings. He closed his eyes, as he rather be in a known darkness before than the one from his very own closet. He heard the pipes flowing, the outside lights buzzing, a voice… singing?

Oh God, no…!

Sammy. Sammy’s voice. Sammy was singing. Sammy was vocalizing out loud and way too into his own mind!

This was bad.

This was bad.

This was bad. This was bad. This was bad. This was bad. This was bad. This was bad. ThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbadThiswasbad!!!!!

“SAMMY!!! SAMMY!!!” Wally started to shout as loud as his panicked voice allowed. He started to bang the door as well, but with how narrow the space was, he couldn’t swing his arm without hitting it with the shelves behind. He didn’t mind. He needed to get his attention somehow. He had to notice him. Anyone had to! “SAMMY!! SAMMY, HELP!! ANYONE!!! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!!!!!!”

Nobody.

The only thing he was able to hear was Sammy, still singing, and his very own crying.

He turned again, back facing the door and leaned there, trying to slide down, ever so slowly, bending his knees so he could fit sitting even if he had to press against the shelves. All as he kept crying, distressed, and painfully gripping his chest.

No one heard him. Sammy didn’t hear him.

He let a wild and grieving wail to escape his throat, in hopes to be heard and rescued, but aside of not being heard at all, it only helped to harm his own cords as he kept crying.

And as tired and hurt he was, as hoarse his throat was, as burnt his cheeks were, only one thing he could thing to ever do, even if the desperation consumed him.

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.” [Psalm, 56:3]

“Our Father, Who art in Heaven.” He started to pray as he picked out his rosary. “Hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread…”

And he kept praying, faith into that at least his prays would be heard.

*-*-*-*-*

Sammy was singing. He needed to do so. He had to vocalize out loud what he was composing in order to assure his work was spotless. For whenever he noticed a single mistake, call it a misplaced note or wrong length, it would lead into a little fit of rage against himself, muttering profanities only audible for those in the range of, let’s say, the whole hall until reaching the infirmary’s entrance. It would be followed by him tearing apart or crumpling the music sheet, just like he was doing right then. Sure, he could cross out the wrong part, fix it, and then he could transcript what was already done in a new page, but usually that was not his style; was something that Wally has been trying to help him with.

Talking about, where was he anyways? Normally he would appear right before he started to tear the sheet and help him breathing and cooling down his mood…

Huh, probably was down in the toy factory or something…

Sammy took seat and clenched his head, an ache about to grow. Ugh, he needed his coffee.

He picked up his mug and held it against his lips, only to notice that it was empty. That’s weird. Did he already drink his coffee? But he can’t even remember… He clicked his tongue, trying to catch any lingering flavor; nothing.

Wally didn’t refill his coffee?

Now that he thought about as he rubbed his neck, he didn’t even remember his usual kiss when he warned about ‘the last cup and then at home’.

Where’s Wally…?

“WALLY?” He called out loud. Nothing.

He stood up, ready to leave his office and a dreadful feeling tingling all over his chest. He opened the door and peeked out, moving, each step ever so slowly and eyes darting in every single direction.

“FRANKS?” He called out again. Still nothing.

The tingling expanded, taking place now along his arms and until the very tip of his fingers. He started to flex them, ready to attack if something ever got to happen and he needed to act rather quickly.

“C’mon, Wally, where are you?” He muttered, picking on every single buzz around him; the pipes dripping, the boards creaking, the door… sobbing and mumbling?

He shot his gaze towards the janitor’s closet, closed and keys dangling of the knob itself. With slow steps, as delicate as a deer peeking through the woods, he approached to the door. Fearfully tender, he leaned both his hands and an ear pressed against the door, focused, listening.

“…blessed are you among women…” A hoarse voice prayed, sobbing in between. “…And blessed is the fruit of your womb.” Sammy’s eyes widened in realization; it was Wally.

“Oh, God. Wally!” He claimed although voiceless.

He hurried up, picking the keys and turning them albeit clumsily due the desperation. He managed to open it widely, and Wally stumbled back, just in the part about praying for the sinners which was cut off by the huff he released when hitting his back against the floor.

Eyes shut tightly at first, Wally slowly opened them, hit by the lights as he already was customized to the darkness of his closet. First thing on sight was a blurry, backlighted silhouette above him, and seemed to be panting. And although he got used to the light out there, the shape was still blurry; his eyes were too tired and swollen to focus properly.

“Oh, God. Wally, are you okay?!” His voice –Sammy’s voice!– exclaimed with so much concern and anguish. And he couldn’t hold it any longer.

As if there was still water in him to freely pour, Wally started to cry out loud again. And Sammy crouched, lowering to his level so he was able to hold the upset young man between his arms.

“Shh… It’s okay, Wally. I’m here.” Sammy soothed, stroking his hair and holding him close to his chest, as much as to comfort him as to contain himself. “I’m here.” He repeated, burying his face in his neck and muffling a tad his consolations. “I’m here. It’s okay now. I’m here…”

Three and a half loops of his rosary was what it took Wally to be found. But it didn’t matter now, for his prays were heard and now he was out in the arms of the only one he really cared of.

[notskam]

         So I’d made a fic rec master post before where I included my fave fics from the Evakteket Best of 2017 nominated fics, and then June came with some incredible fics and I was like, I have read so many fics that are so good, especially in June alone, which was like this magical thing to me as I got to read them in pride month. Some of these fics are not written in June but I included it in here anyway. So, the intention here is to be able to share this with others who, maybe, are coming across any of these fics for the first time and I will feel so lucky and honored to be able be that person who made you check it out and give it a chance. All of these fics are incredible and I promise you that. Also, if you are a reader/fan of fics, please try and spread the word about it. The writers put their heart and soul in the work they put out in the world, and if you liked it, and if you stumbled across a rec post from the author of the fic you liked, please try and reblog it. It’s the least you can do for free stuff that moves you and makes you feel.

four movements on a first wedding by  chevythunder / @icelandcurry

Tags: Accidental Marriage

Summary: Sonja catches sight of the crumpled marriage certificate that’s fallen out of his bag. The crooked smile on her face is enough for Isak’s eyes to burn.

“I’m still hoping that’s fake,” Isak says, going for a laugh. It bounces back to him, the faux joy making him nauseous. She stares at it for a few seconds longer, zoning in on the signatures, running a thumb over Even’s. “I- God, that’s... Seeing his name on one of these.”

Isak looks down, keeps looking down. Tries to block out the hurt he’s causing, the hurt he’s feeling. He hugs her tightly before letting her out the door. Her answering embrace feels like going through the motions.

Isak's spent years keeping his distance to Even, worried that any kind of closeness could trigger feelings he won't be able to suppress. Waking up married to Even after a blurry night in Las Vegas throws a slight wrench in those plans.

(--bla bla: this fic, i have re-read it an embarrassing amount of times. at first, i was skeptical about it because i don’t like the vegas accidental marriage cliche but i love the author’s style and the way they portray isak and even with utmost care, i am so glad i read and i can’t wait for someone to find it from my recs. this fic will give you all the feels, i promise--)

if you must live, darling one, just live by grinsekaetzchen / @hotchocolatenthusiast

Tags: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse

Summary: The world has ended and Even is still alive. He steps into the street, takes in the way the sun is shining onto the ruins. The silence of the town is at odds with the way the sun feels on Even’s skin. A distant warmth. The beginning of a movie. A sunrise, the hero turning his back on a ghost town, leaving.

Cut. Darkness. Fast forward to the light again.

Even starts walking.

(--bla bla:  this is an amazing fic, it’s like you are watching a movie, you know? and you would want to read multi chapters of this verse because it’s such an addictive thing. i have recently discovered that i kind of have a post-break and post-apocalypse kink, oh well, if you do too, check it out. and check their other fics as well, they are really talented and i just discovered them last month--)

Cathedrals of Light, Salt and Snow by shoulderbone (lavenderforluck) / @odeto-psyche

Tags: Canon Compliant, But also canon divergence

Summary: What he wants to say, and cannot bring himself to admit: Before you there was no real me. Only a person pretending to be. Or, alternatively: Isak comes back to face death, and in the meantime, finds rebirth.

(--bla bla: i discovered this from @evakteket recs, bless immy and kit for maintaining such a cool rec blog, my rec post would look like a joke to the work they and @evaksbinder does, but i’m trying my best to show my gratitude here, i think it’s cute,, ok? so this fic, i have a high threshold for angst, as long it’s not there for angst sake and it’s realistic in the scenario, i love angst. and this fic is angsty. it’s isak who lives in germany and is not in a good place emotionally and comes back to oslo because his mother has died, and it’s his journey through grief and self acceptance. i love how isak and even come together in this fic (it’s hardly a spoiler, psst), it’s epic in all it’s glory and i love post break up getting together fic sooooo much. There’s an Even’s POV WIP sequel to this fic which is not as angsty but is equally wonderful. oh, i forgot to mention they include really cool art recs and song recs within the fic, which just.... enriches your fic reading experience ten fold. someone who puts that much effort deserves all the love in the world. i love you! --)

All the climbing, all the falling by Alene / @tristealven

Tags:  Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary: Isak and Even never saw each other after that night at the Plaza. Five years later Isak studies molecular biology in Bergen and keeps running into someone tall and blond.

It rains a lot, there are mountains to climb, and some things start to fall into place.

(--bla bla: this fic. this beautiful, beautiful fic. i can’t rec this enough. elina’s writing just transports you to that gloomy, cloudy aesthetic, especially this is a great read in this awful summer. elina and i bonded over our great love for ‘all stories are echoes’ and i didn’t even know she wrote too? and i was like mad at myself and others for not reccing me soon enough. since then i have read it three times and there’s a wonderful sequel too, so makes sure you read that as well. definitely in my top 5! --)

let's not waste it feeling wrong by @prettyisak

Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks

Summary: Isak has always been skeptical of the soul mark.

Instead of your soulmate's first words to you written on your skin, it's the last words you ever hear them say, so you don't know who your soulmate is until you lose them.

(--bla bla: this fic is a gem, the introspection and the characterization within the plot is just so refreshing and i love their writing. i love the pacing of this fic too --)

On call by MinilocIsland / @irazor

Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Summary: Isak knows what he's meant to do in life - surgery. And he can't wait to show everyone that he's good at it.

That is, if he'll ever get a goddamn chance. Not getting hindered by ridiculous, charming guys whose main advantage in the operating room simply is the length of their legs.

Or - a hospital AU, with both Isak and Even as intern physicians

(--bla bla: never thought i’d like a fic were even is a physician? this was so great, i loved it! look out for a delightful magnus here --)

i always knew by GayaIsANerd / @greathalesonfire 

Tags:  Alternate Universe – Soulmates

Summary: The dreams start on his 19th birthday. A woman screaming, a basement, a man slamming the door behind him, a dark bar, a kind voice telling him he’ll be okay, a blurry shot of another boy. Those are the most clear but there are other images, emotions and sensations lingering even after he wakes. There’s no clear timeline, no names or addresses or anything that could give more definite information.

The information Even doesn’t have, tells him his soulmate is younger than him, not yet 19.

The information he does have, tells him his soulmate is suffering and Even’s heart aches for him.

(--bla bla: gaya is a legend around here, and rightfully so. READ THIS. --)

dancing past the point of no return by @fxckxxp

Tags:  Alternate Universe - Afterlife

Summary: Even has 24 hours to test drive the afterlife, where at the end he can either decide to 1. live for eternity or 2. let his existence dissolve into nothingness. Isak has 21 of those 24 hours to convince him to stay. 

(--bla bla: afterlif au? yes, please. i love how isak is portrayed here. it could have easily been a whiny!isak which i don’t enjoy. it’s not. isak is wonderful here.  --)

Far From Heaven 2.0 by grallonsphere 

Tags:  Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary: When Even chooses to go study film-making in America, without first being upfront about it with Isak, he sets in motion a chain of events that will leave them both lost and damaged...

(bla bla: i found this fic from a commissioned art that popped up, and i was travelling and i wanted to read something long in one go. i forgot to check the tags, if i would’ve have, i wouldn’t have read this fic. and it would’ve been a shame because i loved it. it was really well written and if someone told me the outline of this story, i wouldn’t even give it a chance. it’s one of those fics which you have to read to get why someone liked it. useful tip: read this like an original story instead of a fanfic, it might help? i don’t know if this makes sense?? i bullied @art-vandeley into reading it and she did like it, though, so.. it’s not just me!

 Phosphorescence by unsungyellowraincoat / @isaksbestpillow

Tags:  Canon Compliant

Summary: Maybe they will all get there one dayTo a place of no fear. They go to Latvia. 

(--bla bla: a year ago all i read was canon compliant fics, because my stupid brain could not imagine them in other scenarios, now i do love an au that doesn’t butcher their characterization, but a good canon compliant will always be my top priority and this is one of the best! the line in the summary is something you won’t forget. and it’s isak,even, eskild and linn! a combo you never saw before. it’s delightful and this feeling of ‘i wanna read 10k worth of isak and even just being themselves and bantering’ stayed with me after reading it.  --)

daffodils, daisies, snowdrops & roses by  puddingandpie / @annecuthbertshirley

 Tags: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism

Summary: Even is a Spring. He’s new life. Renewal. Hope. Good things. It follows him everywhere he goes, seeping out of him like he has no idea how to control it.

Isak can’t take his eyes off of him. It’s intoxicating, the way he exudes happiness and warmth in a way that should be typical of a Summer, but somehow seems to suit him just right. But just watching him makes Isak’s own body run colder, the icicles that have taken up a permanent home on his hands weaving more intricate designs than usual. It’s the same response as he once had with Jonas, but this time, Even does not have the heat to break the pattern. Isak knows that if he even dares get closer to Even he will ruin him, just as is the natural order of things. Winter kills plants. Winter kills Spring.

tldr; in a world where u are assigned a Season at birth which defines your magic, isak is a Winter, even is a Spring. they shouldn't work. somehow they do.

(--bla bla: someone who just read canon compliant stuff for a while, all of these AUs just blows my mind and how well isak and even fits in those universes and are still their soft, dorky self. *enter the audio where jvn says ‘love’* --)

waxing, waning by @vesperthine

 Tags: Post-Canon

Summary: They’re in a car, heading towards the E6. Streetlights become blurred dots in the watery dark, and the shadows pass over Isak’s face ( – waves of lights, waxing and waning like the moon, the tide, the moods – ) as they’re navigating through the currents of traffic.

(--bla bla: vesper is so good with real emotions. it annoys me when people dismiss fics because it’s “angst”, i’ve come to associate angst as a negative word now. i wouldn’t call the stuff she writes as angst. raw / real / emotional / introspective - all this, maybe? what do you think? --)

Naturlig seleksjon by Allieverwas, Artemis2121, Kikki1

Tags:  Alternate Universe - Soulmates, PrisonAU

Summary: Livet i fengsel er tøft. Her gjelder den sterkestes rett både for innsatte og ansatte. Even jobber hardt for sin plass på rangstigen. Bare synd at han må holde kortene tett til brystet på så mange områder i livet sitt.

(--bla bla: @vildenooras recommended me this and it was a roller coaster. i wouldn’t deliberately read a prison au and i’m so glad you did it babe, it was feel train for me and thank you for literally holding my hand when i freaked out at twists in this fic. we hate larson in this house, don’t we? --)

tender (is the night) by kittpurrson / @towonderland72

Tags:  Alternate Universe - Soulmates

Summary: His whole body aches, like he’s regrown his limbs overnight, stretched out muscles he never knew he had.

Isak knows, in that moment, that his life has just been turned upside down.

“You bonded,” Even’s girlfriend confirms, and the pity in her eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. “Try not to move.”

(--bla bla: this fic, god this fic.my first soul-bond fic, can you believe that my first time was that good? at first when it everyone was talking about i dismissed it because the concept of soul-bond was meh to me. now i can’t get enough. i can only imagine the thought process that went in to writing this epic, oh my god. i read it one go and at one point i didn’t have internet for a few days and i was grumpy af and my friends abandoned me. apparently, i was “hard to be around with”. whatever. anyway, this is definitely in my top 5 and i’m pretty sure everyone has read it already! check out this fanart by ayesha, OMG?!!! --)

  you and me from the night before by colazitron / @fille-lioncelle

Tags: Travel AU

Summary: There are only two reasons to wake up before eight in the morning: emergencies or romance. When Isak wakes Even on this particular February Friday, it's the latter.

(--bla bla: oh. cola! sweet, sweet cola. one of my fave writers in this fandom who is so consistently great with their writing, I CAN’T. SOO GOOD. exactly why i have you on subscription😎. remember  SKAM Fic Week 2018 ? 7 days of awesome content. i remember telling them about wanting multi chapters  of all of the fics they wrote that week. i hope you don’t hate me for that! in this fic, isak an even are just being their sweet, soft, ridiculous self. it’s nothing really. also, it’s everything and just the kinda thing i. can’t. get. enough. of! --)

A Beginner's Guide to Living with Isak Valtersen by riyku 

Tags:  Canon Compliant

Summary: Or, how to live with the love of your life, in five easy to follow steps.

(--bla bla: i discovered this author when @art-vandeley recommended bassline to me. of course, i read it one go. and i’m waiting for it’s update like i haven’t waited for anything else, ever. and then i went ahead and read all of their one shots. they write isak and even so well, the introspection is just so well done and it’s like poetry, like, seriously, read them. it’s breathtaking. i desperately want you to check it out so here’s a little snippet - 

Rule 4: Never allow him to wake up alone. Isak hates it, and you hate the idea of him finding a you-shaped hole beside him. You will lay in bed and watch the sunrise color in his face with broad strokes. Study the way his curls lick the skin behind his ear and the perfect fit of your palm on his hipbone. You will create patterns in the moles on his back until they become constellations in your mind, complete with their own mythologies. The stories change and you will never write any of them down. Isak will reach for you before he opens his eyes, gasp like the simple act of waking up is a shock to him every single time, then he'll bury his pillow-creased face in your neck. Sometimes you'll fuck around. Sometimes you'll make him breakfast.It will be two months before you realize that on the very rare occasions where Isak wakes up first, he's doing it too.>>  see?? --) 

Eventyr by imminentinertia / @skamskada

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale

Summary: Once upon a time, humans knew about and feared the wights in the forest. Now the wights are all forgotten, and perhaps they have left their hills and trees and ponds.

Perhaps some are still there.

(--bla bla: enchanting is the word. this fic is enchanting. so gorgeous and i really want  more, more, more...  --)

to love you every day by @skamz​

Tags: Canon Compliant, Advent Calender

Summary: Advent calendars are nice, but the ones you buy at the store are not really what Even wants to offer Isak. And so he decides to make one for him instead.

(--bla bla:Cristine got me for secret santa (poor girl) and wrote this incredible fic, for me?? I just re - read it recently and can’t believe my luck. also, read all of their works. they are incredible.--)

you’ll always wait for me to come home by iriswests /  @juilawicker

Tags: Science Fiction

Summary: In a world where time may be arbitrary, but perhaps not linear, Even looks for Isak.

(--bla bla: i believe this is ceecee’s best work yet. it is so well written and it had me in the edge of my seat through and through. just gorgeous and i love isak and even in a sci fi setting! even and sana teams up in a refreshing way and this fic just is like watching a movie, i love it when a fic can do that. like in an all encompassing  way you shut your internet off and just want to immerse in this verse. --)

All this and heaven too by @champagneleftie and @nofeartina

Summary: The first time, it’s just a hookup, a quick blowjob in a club bathroom.

The next time Isak pretends he’s never seen him before. But maybe that’s because they’re at church. And the pastor is Isak’s dad.

Even shouldn’t want the closeted pastor’s son like this, but it’s impossible not to. Especially when he’s already had a taste.

(--bla bla: this was a fantastic read. spoiler alert: look out for the romeo and juliet parallel. i swooned . you will too. --)

Dear Friend by bri_ness / @brionbroadway

Tags: Enemies to Lovers

Summary:  Isak and Even work together in a failing video store, and they cannot stand each other.

Isak and Even both signed up for the Love Letters dating service, and they’re both falling for their anonymous pen pal.

Or, a She Loves Me AU (kind of, sort of).

(--bla bla: god, isak and even in this fic is so eloquent, i can’t with them. and it’’s pacing is wonderful. it’s not rushed or slow, just perfect. high-key wants a follow up to my fave bri fic. please read this fic ok. it’s very soft.  --)

I even made a not so good edit for this fic, that’s how much I loved it. Bri liked it, that will do ;) check out her fics and drabble, all of them are wonderful.

Must read short fics: 

 you don’t have to carry the weight of your sin, we didn’t rise to cave in by @evenbechneiheim

@thefancyspin drabbles: seriously, read em all, it will be time well spent, trust me.

Also, this amazing fic/drabble by @greathalesonfire about sex is something I go back to and re-read, because, why the hell not? It’s so breath taking.

This drabble by  @fxckxxp which sort of is like a missing scene thing between isak and even’s first kiss in the pool and the cuddle marathon the next day. It’s incredibly well written and easy to imagine that this is exactly what happened.

 WIPS that rocks my world

Shaky målinger av livet (uten deg) by Frieda Echte (Plommesill), Peer

Tags: Canon Divergence

Summary: this is a little bit tricky. but hear me out, I have their consent to read this fic using google translate (desperate to a whole new level, eh?), they even said to ask them if i have any doubts (how kind??) and I get help from @vildenooras, amalie and sofie. SO, in this fic, Isak is in Germany due to his studies and Even is in Oslo, and they do the long distant relationship thing, it’s hard but they make it work, but life throws them few curve balls and this fic is basically about how they deal with it.

It’s so realistic and wonderful. Freida writes Isak’s POV and Peer writes Even’s, which is like, so cool, right? So, if you can read Norwegian, please, please, please read this.

Bassline by riyku

Tags:  Alternate Universe - Rock Band

Summary: Isak opens up the email from his editor, skims through it for the tenth time, snagging to a stop on phrases like serial piece and North American tour coverage, boots on the ground and big opportunity. His response is quick and vague, that he'll let her know tomorrow morning, although he's known the answer from the jump.

(Or, Isak is a Norwegian ex-pat, fresh out of NYU with a journalism internship, who bags an assignment covering a band from his former hometown of Oslo on their first North American tour. It takes him about three seconds to realize he kinda has a thing for the bass player).

(--bla bla: first of all, i do not enjoy Americanized fics,, but this is not that, and it is GLORIOUS. this is the sexiest even i’ve ever read and isak is not a helpless pining dork here, he is just so grounded and in tune for his desire not being realistic to be with even, but they do get together and it’s hardly a spoiler, i wanna mention the pacing here too. wow. it wasn’t stretched to keep the will-they-won’t-they thing going the last update is at such a delicious point I AM STARVING FOR AN UPDATE LIKE YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE. also nooreva is a thing, which is like, yayy! --)

lover of my impossible soul by shoulderbone (lavenderforluck) / @odeto-psyche

Tags: Canon Compliant

Summary: We don't often reveal ourselves, when we don't actually know what there is to reveal yet. Or, alternatively: Isak returns to Oslo, and most importantly, to Even.

(--bla bla: this the Even’s POV sequel to Cathedrals and one of those fic that just makes you feel like you’ve been transported to Oslo and is invisibly stalking isak and even, which exactly how i feel when i watch s3. the music rec, the art rec, i can’t thank you enough and just reminds me of the time I read ‘all stories are echoes’ (am i plugging it too much, why wouldn’t i? it’s my #1 fave after all) it’s got that movie like feeling to it, which i’m addicted to and cannot get enough of. also, isak is so smooth here. master of wooing and even melts. and swoons. i can’t with these two. and this fic. this is also the fic where me and ayesha messages each other right after there’s an update and we gush and gush, gdkjngk  --)

ok, so after the not so pretty rambling about great fics that deserves to be recced in an elegant way, i just wanna say i had this thought, that, the places the writers in this fandom has taken isak and even, all the parallel universes and all the brilliant characterization and introspection, julie could only dream of. not a diss, i will never diss the queen. forever grateful. and grateful to all the writers for your generosity and brilliance. 

god sommer. vi chattes 💖

[metalandmagi]

August Media Madness

Well, August may have sucked for me personally, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t keep track of all the media I consumed this month! And spoiler alert, I watched a lot of movies involving adorable talking bears. Although, I have a feeling that as soon as the fall television premieres start, I’ll be watching a lot less movies.

July’s media

Movies!

Dear Evan Hansen

Thank you bootlegs. This isn’t a movie, but I didn’t want to make a separate category for plays when I’ve only seen one this month. Anyway, if you haven’t heard of it, Dear Evan Hansen involves an incredibly anxious teenage boy who is tasked by his therapist to write motivational letters to himself. Unfortunately, Connor Murphy, an angsty boy who goes to Evan’s school sees one of the letters, takes it, and promptly decides to kill himself, with the letter still on his person. Everyone ends up thinking he and Evan were friends and that this letter was a suicide note that Connor wrote to Evan...and a beautiful fake gay relationship friendship was born. Call me basic as hell, but I’ve watched this show twice now, and listened to the soundtrack more times than I can count, and it’s turning into my favorite musical. There are so many important messages in it, and it takes you on a roller coaster of emotions. Every character does good and bad things, and no one is blameless or innocent...except maybe Zoe Murphy. If anything just listen to the soundtrack. 10/10

Night on the Galactic Railroad

Cats...on a mystical train...This seems like the kind of movie they would show you in film school. Very dull plot and characters with the themes being the main takeaway. What even is the plot of this movie? Darker, grittier, furry version of the Polar Express? Incredibly boring slightly more religious version of Over the Garden Wall? I just kept watching it because the main character looks like a cat version of Kagayama Tobio in middle school...cat-gayama. 4/10

Paddington

An adorable bear from South America travels to London and gets into all sorts of trouble with an English family. It’s very charming and sweet, and the aesthetic in this movie is on point, like Wes Anderson directed a children’s movie. This is one of those movies you hear about where everyone loves it, and you think it can’t possibly be that good, but then you watch it and you were wrong! So wrong! 10/10

Paddington 2

Naturally. This time an adorable South American bear goes to prison, and his family tries to clear his name. Again, A+ aesthetic and imagery, but I think I preferred the plot of the first movie a little more because everyone was all together. 9/10

Christopher Robin

Do you like Winnie the Pooh? Do you like jaded adults finding happiness in their lives again? Do you think the movie Hook had a good premise but was extremely long and kinda boring and could have been a better movie with a little tweaking? Well this is the movie for you! Christopher Robin has grown into an overworked adult, and his old friend Winnie the Pooh inadvertently helps him reconnect with his wife and daughter (and also his inner child) just by being the sweet, clumsy, dry humored bear we all know and love. I was so skeptical of this movie at first, and I was absolutely blown away by how funny and meaningful it was. 100/10

The Road to El Dorado

Two lovable Spanish con men named Miguel and Tulio are accidentally swept away on a journey to the fabled city of El Dorado, where everything is made of gold. Once they reach the city, the locals believe they’re gods due to an (un)fortunate series of coincidences, and the con men try to keep up the charade with the help of the best character in the movie, Chel (who I’m pretty sure caused an entire generation of lesbians’ sexual awakening). This is one of my favorite animated movies of all time and one of the reasons I wish Dreamworks would go back to their 2D animation days, where the visuals and music were just as stunning as 3D movies are now. This movie is a classic, and I desperately want a sequel! 10/10

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

When Lara Jean thinks it’s a good idea to write 5 secret love letters to 5 boys that she’s had crushes on over the years, everything is fine until her little sister mails the letters to all the boys (because even a 6th grader knows Lara Jean is lonely and emotionally stunted as fuck). This is a Netflix original movie that was adapted from the book by Jenny Han...which I haven’t read, but now I really want to. Overall, this was super cute, but I wasn’t really crazy about the boys. They weren’t horrible people or anything, and they never pressured Lara Jean or made fun of her for being “innocent”, but they were just kind of bland. I’m much more interested in the other boys we didn’t see in the movie! But the family relationships were so heartfelt, Lara Jean’s fashion sense is AMAZING, and the acting/casting was awesome. 8/10

Summer Wars

I...don’t even know how to describe the plot of this one. A teenage boy named Kenji goes on a country holiday and pretends to date an acquaintance of his in order to impress her enormous family...but it’s really about an AI that becomes sentient and wants to mess up the world through this universal internet program called OZ that’s kind of like a mashup of Facebook and Second Life...but actually no it’s about family sticking together and using a Japanese card game to save the world…but apparently it’s got the same plot as the Digimon movie because they’re both directed by Mamoru Hosoda. Yeah...

Guys, I have a confession to make...this has always been my favorite Mamoru Hosoda movie. Everyone falls all over themselves saying Wolf Children is the best Mamoru Hosoda movie, and that’s great for them but it doesn’t even come in second for me. Summer Wars means a lot more to me personally because I come from a big extended family, and when I first saw this movie, I was blown away by how accurate the family dynamic was. There are so many characters, but everyone has their own personality. Not to mention the music makes the summer atmosphere so on point. And I’m not going to lie...I bawled like a fucking baby the first time I saw this movie. So anyway, I like Summer Wars more than Wolf Children, thanks for coming to my TED talk. 10/10

Atlantis: The Lost Empire

Unappreciated researcher Milo Thatch goes on an expedition to find the lost city of Atlantis.

Okay, there are two kinds of Disney fans in this world: Treasure Planet fans, and Atlantis fans. And I will support Treasure Planet as the best underrated vaguely steampunk inspired Disney movie until you can pry my 15 year old dvd copy away from my cold dead hands. But Atlantis is pretty good too. I could write essays comparing the two and why both of them should be successful but weren’t. My main problem with it is that the characters are great, but I feel like we don’t see enough of them, and as a kid a lot of the humor went by so fast that I completely missed it. Also the glowing eyes and spirits taking over the Atlantian princess’s body freaked me the fuck out as a child. NEVERTHELESS! This really is a great movie, with extremely well developed lore and well designed characters that chills me to this day. 8/10

Deadpool 2

The merc with a mouth is back, and man there’s so much going on in this movie I won’t even try to explain the plot. I literally had to go back and add this in because I was so into this movie when I was watching it that I forgot to write it down! Even though I really liked this sequel, I think I liked the first one better, just based on how much I laughed. There was so much going on plot wise, but it really seemed to work for this movie. There were also a lot of great new characters (Domino is my favorite character of the franchise now), but since there was so much stuff going on, a lot of jokes and plot lines were sort of hit and miss. Anyway, I’m sure everyone’s seen this one by now but just in case, I highly recommend it. 9/10

Books!

The Adventure Zone Graphic Novel: Here There be Gerblins by Clint McElroy (technically all the McElboys) and Carey Pietsch

Yeah yeah, for anyone who doesn’t know I’m Adventure Zone trash okay. TAZ is a DnD podcast where 3 brothers and their father create one of the most famous campaigns in history involving three idiot adventurers going on a quest to find a missing person and getting sucked into a much larger grand plan to protect the world. This graphic novel is a visualization of the first arc. I don’t even really like Here There be Gerblins all that much, and yet here I am. Oh well, the art was amazing, and of course I already knew the story. But it was kind of hilarious to see the name changes they had to make to some of the characters and places. I was a little disappointed that the ending was so rushed, and we don’t really spend time around the moon base before The Director is in our face changing the Lunar Interlude parts but whatever. 10 dead gerblins/10

The Darkest Minds by Alexandra Bracken

When a disease that only affects children kills off nearly all the kids on the planet, the survivors are left with supernatural powers and are taken away to concentration camps in order to “protect” the public. I’ve been wanting to read this for a long time, and since the movie just came out I thought it was the perfect time. This is one of those books that some people adore and some people hate. I thought it was just okay. For everything that I didn’t like, there was something to make up for it. Personally, I felt that Bracken focused on the wrong part of the story. Everything takes place years after this disease has come, and I think it would have been more interesting to see everything from the children’s points of view when this disease was first starting. I would focus on each different character as a child and how they wound up in their respective camps. Oh well, there’s way too many pros and cons  that I could delve into, but you like the YA dystopian genre then I say go for it. I didn’t like it enough to read the other two books (not yet anyway). 7/10

TV Shows!

Camp Camp

You know how there are summer camps that specialize in science, or acting, or space, or whatever? Yeah Camp Camp is about a summer camp that throws literally everything you can think of into one summer camp. If you don’t believe me, just listen to the theme song. Seriously though this is one of the best shows I’ve watched all year, but boy howdy this is not one for young children. It’s like Gravity Falls and Rick and Morty had a baby! Anyway, the characters are both surprising and hilarious. David the camp counselor (voiced by Miles Luna) is genuinely likable when you think he’d be the most annoying person on the planet, and the kids are so accurate it’s scary. Also Yuri Lowenthal is in it. And Griffin McElroy has a recurring role where he plays A GHOST! I’ve never been into Rooster Teeth stuff, but they have a winner with this one. 10/10

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

After her husband leaves her, Midge Maisel gets super drunk, goes on stage, and gives a hilarious rant about her relationship at a small comedy/talent club and somehow gets sucked into becoming a rising comedian as a woman in the 1950s. It’s good. Great acting pretty funny, but Midge and her agent/manager Susie are the only likable characters. Everyone else just kind of...sucks 8/10

Voltron Season 7 (spoilers)

Okay, I know everyone had mixed feelings about this season, but I did come out liking a lot of it. It had a lot of flaws (I really thought it would be Shiro’s season, and man was I wrong), but this is the sort of thing we can’t really judge until the last episode of the series is finished. I like to think of the positives: the action was amazing as usual, HUNK IS GETTING MORE AND MORE DEVELOPMENT EVERY SEASON, I refuse to believe the team introduced Adam just to have him killed off immediately so he’s still alive in my mind, we get to see everyone’s reunions with their families, the lost in space episode was cool, and say what you want about the game show episode, but I loved it! There were a lot of good things so it was easier for me to look past the...not so great aspects of the season. 7/10

Galavant

A musical comedy mini series involving a renowned medieval hero named Galavant on a quest to rescue his ex girlfriend from her “evil” husband King Richard. But maybe she doesn’t want to be rescued. Well, that’s just the first season. It’s best to go in knowing as little as possible. I remember liking it when it first came out, and it’s still pretty cute...but sometimes I feel like it’s trying too hard. A lot of the music isn’t really...memorable, but the characters are likable so it’s still worth the watch. 8/10

Disenchantment

Speaking of medieval comedies...Princess Bean doesn’t want to get married, mystical elf Elfo doesn’t want to live in an enchanted forest where everyone is happy all the time, and Bean’s personal demon Luci just wants to watch people suffer. Honestly, I wasn’t very into this show at first, but something compelled me to just keep watching, and by the end I was totally into it! This is one of those shows where you think there isn’t going to be a plot, but then the last few episodes come up and smack you in the face! 7.5/10

Round Planet

A documentary parody...mockumentary...satire...That’s really not a great way to describe it. It’s a nature documentary with funny commentary. I like nature shots and animals so I liked it, but there’s a lot of tangents and running jokes and British references that sometimes don’t land. Oh well, if you like unconventional documentaries, just watch it. 8/10

Honorable Mentions

DnDnD: I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this podcast before, but there’s a DnD podcast made by Practical Folks (aka the Drunk Disney youtube channel). It’s pretty good! I want an Adventure Zone crossover now!

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild: Every time I think I’m out, it pulls me back in. I finally got the DLC and spent most of this month playing this freaking game AGAIN!

The Heathers soundtrack: I finally listened to the Heathers musical soundtrack...and I didn’t love it. There are some good songs in it, but overall I’m unimpressed. And I never could really get into the plot, I’ve always thought it was really weird and over dramatic.

Legendary by Stephanie Garber: I’m about halfway through this book, which is the second in the Caraval series. And it’s pretty good! More on that next month.

[winetae]

⇾ tessellate 02

⇁ hoseok x female reader x jungkook

⇁ smut, slight angst || fuckboi!au

⇁ public sex, exhibitionist themes, angsty sex;

⇁ 10.1k

. . .

“ Triangles are my favorite shape Three points where two lines meet.” (tessellate)

Triangles are supposed to be the strongest and most stable of all geometric shapes. You wonder how true this statement is if applied to real life situations. The way you see it: triangles aren’t a reliable structure for relationships, especially if the parties you’re involved with find commitment to be a foreign concept.

↳ or : a fuckboy’s guide to polyamory

⇀ start | 01 | 02

.

.

Your life is a mess — figuratively and literally. Empty coffee cups fill up your wastebasket; messy notes are strewn across your desk. Your sheets are in desperate need of washing — not that you can bring yourself to care when you’ve been falling asleep at your desk for the last three days. 

Sleep itself has become a foreign concept. Cup ramen and dry shampoo are now your trusted best friends. Although you do require ten different alarms on your phone to make sure you don’t miss class, your body miraculously manages to function properly enough for you to trudge through the week more or less unscathed. 

The past week in question is a blur; one never-ending, miserable routine that starts and ends with schoolwork. When your days aren’t eaten away by your part-time job and classes, you spend the rest of your time cram studying in cafes or finishing off your semester project in one of the available art studios on campus. You’re too caught up with your mountain-high pile of workload to dwell on any relationship troubles, especially when finals are knocking at your door, ready to promptly drag you down to your grave. 

"Rough night?" 

One of the only classmates you’re acquainted with, Joo, slinks into the chair beside yours, her leather messenger bag dropping to the floor with an audible thud. The familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts under your nose, and your sleep-deprived eyes are immediately drawn to the venti-sized cup she nurses in her hands. Your stomach growls — a loud reminder that you’ve been living off nothing but shots of caffeine and instant noodles.

"Is it that obvious?" You cover the undersides of your eyes self-consciously with your sleeve-covered hands. 

Has your concealer worn off already? The drugstore brand isn’t renowned for being long-lasting but it should, at the minimum, last longer than an hour… What the hell? You had been relying on the product to make you look somewhat human. You grown inwardly, already imagining how frightening you must look with your panda eyes and greasy hair haphazardly tied into a poorly put together bun. You make a mental note to stay away from the sight of your reflection only because you want to spare your eyes the pain.

Your clothes don’t help your case, either — the wrinkled hoodie that dwarfs your form makes you look like an unidentifiable blob who has been living in the same outfit for the past week...which, admittedly, wouldn’t be too far from the truth. You’re sure anyone who takes one glimpse in your direction would think you’ve given up on looking like a normal human being. Between the fight with Hoseok and finals looming over your head like a dark cloud, you’ve been neglecting to take care of yourself properly. And, in all honesty, you would rather sleep an extra fifteen minutes than get up to apply a layer of makeup.

"Don't worry, you don't look worse than anyone else here..." She gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder after noticing your gloomy expression.

A cursory glance around the room confirms Joo’s statement. Her words, however, fail to cheer you up. To know that you’re not worse off than the rest of your classmates is not the most comforting piece of information. A sea of red-rimmed eyes, sunken expressions and grayish complexions surrounds you; it’s a sight you would expect to see in post-apocalyptic movies, not in a 10 am painting class. 

"I stayed up until four finishing the damned thing. Thank God for coffee, right?" ” Joo’s lips curl into a frown as she pulls out her essay from her overstuffed bag. She curses under her breath when she notices the front page is dogeared and runs a hand over it in an attempt to flatten it out.

"Yeah.... I haven't been able to sleep much. I wish Professor Park would give us some slack.”

"Him? Give us a break? Yeah, right. He gets off watching us suffer. Why else would he give us this much work before finals? Fuckin' sadist.” She leans forward to press down harder, face contorted in a frown. “He can't wait to see us breakdown from the stress alone." Finally, she kicks one of the legs of the chair in front of her and slumps in her seat, apparently having given up on fixing the crease that mars the cover of her assignment.

Right on cue, the door slides open, and she peeks though her fingers, probably expecting Park to storm in right then. Her tense shoulders relax when the last students shuffle in instead of Park. She waves one of her friends over to the vacant chair next to her, her expression perking up.

You don’t recognize her friend, but, then again, you’re disgustingly bad at remembering faces. If Joo hadn’t struck up a conversation with you several weeks ago, you probably wouldn’t remember her, either. Your eyes stay peeled on her approaching form, partly out of secret admiration; unlike the rest of the zombie lookalikes in the class, her skin glows and her hair is perfectly sleek and shiny (the shampoo-advertisement glossy perfection you see on TV, not the gross kind of oily).

"You lot look like you've gone to hell and back again." The tall girl says in lieu of greeting, turning up her nose at the sight of the two of you. The look that crosses her face suggests she’s accidentally planted her heeled boot smack dab in a pile of cow dung… It does wonders for your ego. 

"That's 'cos we have.” Joo grumbles behind the rim of her cup of coffee. “Did you forget the 12 page essay due today?" 

"I'm more surprised you remembered. You're so unorganized, it’s a wonder you get any assignments done on time. It stresses me out every time I see you write your homework down on your hand. You can’t keep living this way… It’s April and you still don’t own a fucking planner!”

"Yeah yeah, whatever, mom. I'm not the only one who looks like death. Why don't you scold ____, too?"

You freeze up as they both turn to look at you, feeling the weight of their stares sweep over you.

The look Tall Girl appraises you with makes you flatten the top of your hair in a half-assed attempt to look more presentable. You don’t need confirmation of your repulsiveness when you're already all too aware that your tangled and knotted tendrils look like an open invitation for birds to come make their nest atop your head.

"I overslept today, s'all, didn’t have time to brush my hair," you mumble intelligibly between your teeth. You tug the sleeves of your sweater further down so that your fists are covered in the soft fabric, silently wishing that the ground would choose this exact moment to swallow you whole.

"It's cool that you're so confident in your appearance. I think if I dated someone so handsome, I would worry a lot more,” she says, leaning forward on her elbows to get a good look at you. You’re running dangerously low on sleep and patience which is why the mention of Hoseok instantly puts you in a crappy mood.

"Not everyone is that superficial, Lin. Exams are next week. Only you would care enough to get a Brazilian blowout four days before exams start." Joo forces out a laugh, trying to dispel the silent tension that had inched its way into the conversation. “Lin is a bit of bitch, don’t take it personally.”

“We all have our faults,” she shrugs, unbothered. “I’m a superficial, materialistic bitch — the kind trophy wives aspire to be. But at least I’m upfront about it. Say what you want, but I’m not the worse of the batch… Some people don’t have any morals.”

“You have morals? I’m surprised that you have a soul,” Joo snickers, earning an eye roll.

“Some things just go against my principles. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing UGG boots, for example. Not even if you paid me to.” You can’t help but look down at her outfit — the sparkly pink ensemble looks straight out of the set of Scream Queens. “I only smoke weed on weekends and I don’t kiss boys who are taken.”

Mr. Park chooses that moment to enter the classroom, and you silently thank him for the save. You’re not sure what you could have replied to that, anyway. This is why you try not to interact with anyone, you think to yourself.

As the voice of your professor drones on, going over the study material for the nth time this week, your mind unwilling drifts back to Hoseok, prompted by Lin’s words.

It’s not like you’re actively thinking of him every second of every day. The God honest truth is that you’re trying your best not to let yourself be consumed by thoughts of him. For the most part, your method works well. You’ve got so much to juggle on your plate at the moment that your romantic woes are on the bottom of your growing list of concerns. Yet there are inevitable times when you’re forced to acknowledge the jumbled feelings you haven’t been able to sort out since the night you walked out on him.

Now being a prime example.

Lin’s words bring you back to last week’s fight, the incriminating messages found on his phone and his refusal to explain himself. You still have no clue what you should make of it. Your experience is limited; none of your past relationships have ever been this complicated or dramatic. The entire situation makes your heart clench with anxiety. Bubbling panic brews in the pit of your stomach when your thoughts linger on this subject too long.

Avoiding Hoseok will only postpone confrontation but you would rather battle one fight at a time. Finals are the most important. That’s what you tell yourself anyway, trying to justify your actions when you refuse to call him back after he leaves yet another voicemail.

Mina [10:21 am] you owe me lunch

Mina [10:21 am] it’s been a week

Oh, right… Mina had ordered you a cheese pizza last week when you refused to come out of your room. You had promised to pay her back, only to eventually forget. 

You glance ahead, trying to type your reply back as surreptitiously as possible.

Mina [10:22 am] pls feed me today

Mina [10:22 am] i’m broke af rn. my paycheck doesn’t come until the end of the month

You [10: 24 am] okay, fine. meet up for coffee at 12?

Mina [10:24 am] yes!!! I love you <33

Mina [10:25 am] is now a good time to tell u I finished your apple pie this morning

You [10:25 am] !!!!!!

You [10:26 am] I fucking hate you

Mina [10:28 am] sorry :-( will do your laundry for a week

You type back the last message with more force than necessary, a frown marring your features.

A voice interrupts your internal monologue, “Miss ______.”

The call of your name makes your head snap up, your wide eyes meeting the stern gaze of your professor. Although you feel like a deer in headlights, you try to mask your dread with a look of innocence. Several students have turned around to glance at you, and your cherry cheeks burn under the scrutiny.

“Yes?” Your response comes out as a nervous squeak, the sound betraying you. As you clear your throat with a loud cough, the hand that grips your phone under the table trembles.

Park heaves a sigh, the sound echoing in the silence of the room. “Please come see me after class.” The expression etched on his face informs you that whatever discussion he wishes to have with you will most likely not bode well for your future.  

“Yes, sir,” comes your meek reply.

Joo shoots you a sympathetic smile you weakly reciprocate.

It seems like your week from hell can get worse, you despair, holding back a groan. Stress eats away at you and you find it impossible to concentrate on the lesson when your thoughts cycle between Hoseok, your professor, and how your life just monumentally sucks. 

When class is finally dismissed, your shoulders sag with the weight of your accumulated troubles. You plod on over to your teacher’s desk, your apprehension visible on your face. 

“Your essay on George Seurat and Neo-Impressionism you handed in last week was, quite frankly, a disappointment,” is what he says once the last students have cleared out. 

Your stomach drops and you think you’re about to feel sick. Being told you’re failing class is not on the list of words you want to hear, now or ever. Back in high school, your work was always highly praised with a stellar grade to prove it, but you feel like your luck is about to change. 

“This isn’t the first month of college anymore. We’re almost at the end of the year, so I expect more from you. If you turn in something like that on the day of the final exam… Don’t expect a passing grade. I’m telling you this because I know that you’re capable of doing better.” 

He hands you your paper, red scribbles smirching the entirety of the first page. You take it back gingerly, afraid to read through all of your teacher’s commentary. Clutching your paper to your chest like a shield, you brace yourself for further criticism. 

“The factual content on the color theory is not false but your explanations are muddled and clumsy. If you follow the methodology we went over in class, you wouldn’t be having this problem. You seem distracted lately, and today was not an exception.” You respond to the pointed look he aims at you with a sheepish expression. 

“You don’t have a lot of time left, so make sure to straighten out your priorities. You have to get yourself back in the game, _____. Don’t lose focus of the objective now! You don’t want to see me next year again, alright?” The small smile he gives you makes you nod automatically. You thank him and promise him that you’ll try harder.

Outside, Joo looks up from her phone when you finally come out of the classroom. Lin stands behind her, inspecting her nails with a bored look plastered on her face. “So, how did it go?”

“Oh...it went fine. He’s not as scary as he looks,” you force out a smile, feeling a little dead inside. There’s a head-splitting ringing in your ears that makes your vision spin — almost as if someone has just hammered you over the head.  “He just wanted to go over the essay we turned in last week.”

“Cheer up,” she pats your shoulder awkwardly, your hand falling back to her side. “We’re going to work on our paintings this afternoon in Studio B. You should come too, if you’re not busy.”

“Yeah, okay.” The corners of your lips hurt, but you continue smiling. 

Your body moves on autopilot for the rest of the day — your feet two lead weights you drag across the floor to your next class. The only thing you look forward to is your lunch date with Mina. You’re so down that you don’t mind spending an extra ten bucks on sweets because you’re in serious need of a pick-me-up. 

The café you usually study in is packed; tables all around you are taken up by the MacBooks of students. You manage to find a seat in the very back, next to a lady in her seventies feeding her Chihuahua the crumbs of her cookie. There is not much elbow room, but Mina somehow manages to fit the tray of Danish pastries and her plate of Black Forest cake on the small table. 

She doesn’t waste a second — her fork attacking the desserts like a woman possessed.

“You aren’t getting that?” she mouths around a bite of Spandauer.

Your phone buzzes four more times on the table, a selfie of Hoseok with his older sister's dog you’ve set as your lockscreen staring up at you.

'Two Missed Calls from Hoseok' your phone alerts you, making your roommate raise an inquisitive eyebrow in your direction.

You choose to ignore both the call and the look she aims at you, your face schooled in a mask of nonchalance. “Hm? It can wait. I’d rather spend my time with you.”

“How sweet,” she says, not without her suspicions. “It's fine, you can answer. It might be important, you never know... And please.” She rolls her eyes. "Don't say that when it’s never stopped you before.”

“Ha ha," you say drily, cursing how she's able to see right through you. "Is it so hard to believe it when I say I would rather talk to you? It's been a while since we've spent time together.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you would rather be sucking Hoseok’s meat stick. Not that I blame you… I’d suck that dry if I could. Not that I would since you’re dating him but y’know. I’m getting pretty desperate... I’m this close to letting Dandruff Dan take me on a date. Don’t look at me like that! You don’t know what it’s like, okay? My vagina hasn’t had any action in so long, it’s starting to feel dusty.”

Next to you, an old lady splutters into her coffee cup, shocked no doubt by the vulgarity of today’s youth. One look at the scandalized expression carved on her face and you don’t know whether to laugh or to feel embarrassed. A nervous, strangled giggle leaves your mouth before you can stop it, earning you another glare. You’re thankful at least Mina has the decency to mouth her apology while handing the elderly woman a stack of paper napkins.

“I’d love for her to have a chat with my gran,” Mina says under her breath after making sure the white-haired woman could no longer overhear your discussion. “She used to be a groupie and followed rock stars around from city to city. If you knew the stuff she did… Makes pornos look tame. Ah, I really miss her… She’d be so disappointed in me if she knew I haven’t had dick in over six months...”

She takes another bite of cake, looking thoughtful. "Are you sure Jimin isn't down to mingle?"

"Dunno..." You twirl your stripped straw around your smoothie, refusing to think about Jimin. Jimin makes you think of Hoseok, and Hoseok is a problem you can't bring yourself to solve.  "Haven't seen him around much lately."

You've never interacted much before, but now that you're giving Hoseok the silent treatment, you're hell bent on avoiding any of his friends as well.

"What's going on? I can tell something's up. You've been biting your straw non-stop since we sat down and just look at your nails." You look down, finally taking notice of the tragic state of your nails, uneven with chips of fading blue nail polish still coloring your thumbs. "And it's not like you to blow off Hoseok twice in a row like that."

"Just, you know...  Stupid stuff."

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you. You can tell me what's wrong, if you want. I'm not the best at giving advice, but I don't like seeing you like," she waves a hand around at your face, "this. You look like…”

“Death came knocking at your door this morning," she supplies with a grimace. "Jesus, when was the last time you took a shower? Seriously… What's bothering you so much? Is it Hoseok? Did you guys finally have a fight?"

"Finally? What is that supposed to mean?”

"Well, yeah. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

"Wait, what? You aren’t surprised?”

“Honestly?” Hesitation crosses her features as she mulls over her words. The beat of silence speaks volumes and gives you your answer before she finally speaks again. “Not really. What happened exactly?"

"I found some weird pictures on his phone. This girl he's been talking to sends him semi-nudes."

Mina shoots you an apologetic look. “I’ve always thought relationships built on sex don’t last long. Don’t take offense, okay? But all you two do is fuck. Any of your interactions involve getting each other off some way or another. I’m not saying that he should take you out to a fancy restaurant or anything, but... Do you guys even talk? What do you guys even do?”

“We do talk!” You’re quick to argue, used to defending yourself from accusations. “We text each other and we call each other when we can. Both of us are really busy right now, that’s why we haven’t been able to spend time with each other as much as I would’ve liked...”

“Okay...” She smiles, unconvinced. “And what do you guys talk about exactly?”

“Just, like...normal, mundane stuff. How our day went, what we’re having for dinner. But we’ve never argued before this...”

“So...superficial talk. You could have the same conversations with anyone else, am I right? And what do you even know about him? What’s his favorite color?”

“We don’t have to know everything about each other,” you argue. “We just started dating! You can’t expect us to know every single, little thing about each other. And, besides, I don’t know much about you, either, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t close.  Knowing or not knowing his favorite color shouldn’t be a reason enough to be with him or not.”

“It was an example, gosh. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t see what’s changed between now and the time you guys were just casually fucking. Like, cool, he calls you his girlfriend now, but what does it matter if he’s off wetting his dick whenever you’re too busy to let him come by.”

“I don’t know about that. He did say that he didn’t get with her since he started dating me... I shouldn’t care about who he’s been with before that.”

“You actually believe that excuse?” Mina lets out an unattractive snort. Stabbing a fork into her slice of chocolate cake with more force than necessary, she scoops out a huge mouthful that she somehow manages to swallow in one bite. “Honey, he could at least try to sound a little more convincing. He got that straight from a 'How to be a fuckboy' manual.”

"Hoseok isn't like his friends," you insist, stubbornly.

"Sure, sure. Take off your rose covered lenses for a second and hear me out. Birds of a feather flock together. Even if he's not as bad as his fuckboy posse, he can't be squeaky clean either. He and his friends name themselves the Pussy Terminators... Not only is that cringe as fuck, it's also a quite telling."

"I think Hoseok mentioned Jimin was the one who came up with that..." you add as an afterthought.

"That's not the point here! The point is, those types of guys are good for a fuck, and that's it. I'm glad things were working well with Hoseok, but I also don't want you to get hurt. So talk it out, listen to what he has to say, but don't let him play you like the naive freshman he might think you are."

She takes one of your hands between her own, “Don’t let him step all over you, okay? I know you like him a lot, but I can see how stressed out and miserable you look.”

You chew on your bottom lip, mulling over her words in silence. While she does have a point, you want to give Hoseok the benefit of the doubt, even if you aren’t sure if he deserves it. 

The dilemma that rages inside your heart but be readable on your face, for Mina squeezes your hand in comfort. “Go home, take a hot shower. You’ll feel a lot better, trust me.” 

It turns out that Mina is right about at least one thing. The hot shower does wonders for the crick in your neck, and you feel like a different person now that your hair is clean and the thin layer of grime has been scrubbed off your body. A hot shower is not a miracle solution for all of your problems, but it’s one step in the right direction. 

Feeling rejuvenated in clean clothes, you head on over to the art studio to advance on your semester paint project with a spring in your step. Painting always helps your clear your mind — once you get in the zone, no one and nothing can distract you. 

The scaled down frame forces you to focus on the tiniest details, invisible to the untrained eye. With meticulous brush strokes, streaks of golden brown start to fill in the stenciled field. Every measured stroke is thought out and calculated; your hand is steady, your breath synced to each subtle movement of the paintbrush that glides across the smooth surface of the canvas.

Any of your previous worries are pushed to the back of your mind, out of sight. You don’t even notice when Joo and Lin eventually leave the studio, too immersed in the task at hand. The sun shifts in the sky, casting shadows that make it impossible to continue your work. 

It's when you finally set down the tool in your hand that you begin to register your immediate surroundings. The hands of the clock hung up on the wall indicate how much time has slipped by and, distantly, you tell yourself that you should hurry on home if you want to catch the first few minutes of the TV show you've been into lately.

However, instead of heading back home, you stare blankly at your unfinished painting. Intense dislike twists your insides and you have to fight down a scowl. 

The bright, warm hues of your painting are meant to reflect inner peace and happiness, but one glance tells you that the mix of colors look startlingly wrong. The blue of the sky is too icy, the golden field of wheat grim and inhospitable. You feel nothing when you stare at it, and that vacancy in your chest leaves you feeling bitter. 

Nothing in your life seems to be working out right now. 

You have no idea how to repair what’s been broken or where to even begin. Mina’s right, you think, you are miserable. Being with Hoseok had only been a temporary bliss, but it wasn’t a solution to all of your existing problems. While the rest of your life slowly spiraled out of control, you found refuge in his touch and his whispered words of reassurance. 

A quiet knocking at the door breaks your concentration. Speak of the devil and he shall appear... Somehow, you know who it is before the door even opens. Call it intuition. 

The thick wooden door slides open, and the face of the person you've been avoiding appears. Your heart stops, and, for a second, you think you’ve mistaken a dream for reality. 

Hoseok is dressed in sweats and the university jersey, his hair pushed back beneath his snapback. Being familiar with his schedule, you suspect he’s come straight from practice. The dance studio he trains in is situated on the other side of campus, and judging by how sweat still clings to his brow, his face glowing with a sheen of perspiration, you surmise he must've rushed here right away.

No one makes a move. Time is suspended — seconds seem to stretch into minutes in front of your very eyes. Beneath this silence, there's a tension that lingers in the air, an awkwardness that was never present before.

"Hey." Hoseok has his hands buried deep in his pockets. He tries to sound casual, like nothing is out of the ordinary. 

It only confirms everything you've been thinking about for the last few days. The two of you tend to ignore the problem in the hopes that it will fade and disappear by itself. Still — he's here now, isn't he? That has to mean something. 

"Hi," you say back, but even to your own ears, the greeting sounds contrived. You wonder how long you’ll keep on dancing around the elephant in the room.

As much as you would rather not have this conversation, you know that you can’t keep running away from confrontation forever. This is why your relationship isn’t working in the first place; because the both of you have been turning a blind eye whenever any kind of problem arises. 

Now that you've acknowledge that there's an issue, will you really keep on ignoring it? How can you possibly keep pretending that all is okay when you feel the weight of all that was left unsaid pressing down on your shoulders?

Hoseok must feel it, too.

“Can we talk about this now? Or are you still mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you,” you clarify with a sigh, setting down your palette.

To this he raises a brow, evidently not convinced, “Well, how else am I supposed to interpret all the missed calls and unanswered messages? Would you have even talked to me if I hadn’t come here and sought you out?” Although he’s trying to stay levelheaded about this and speak calmly, you can detect traces of frustration slowly seeping into his speech. "If Kook hadn't told me where to find you, I wouldn't even be having this conversation with you right now."

He leans his weight against the doorframe, his head tipping back as he lets out a frustrated exhale. The column of his neck is exposed to your stare, making it easy to spot the fading pink bruise you had left him near his chiseled jaw. "I don't blame you, if you are. But we should be talking this out, yeah? You never gave me the chance to explain the other night. Well— " He pauses, chewing his bottom lip as he measures his next words carefully. "That night, I didn't tell you everything so...I can understand why you would misunderstand. I don't know if I'm too late but I'd like to explain myself now."

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you I needed some space, but I needed time to think about...us.” A beat passes as you gather your thoughts. You’re thankful he doesn’t jump to conclusions right away and gives you the time to speak free of interruptions. "

“Did you work it out?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us — especially about this. Yuna? She means nothing to me. Not even — we never… I’ve never hooked up with anyone else since we started being together. I know I don’t have the perfect reputation, so I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me, but I’ve never cheated on you.”

“Hoseok, who is she?” The silent accusation is loud enough for him to flinch.

His tongue swipes over his dry lips. You expect him to give you a roundabout, vague answer that will only add fuel to the sparking fire.

After a moment of silent debate, he inhales deeply, choosing to stick to the truth. “We hooked up a few times over Christmas break before New Year’s. I thought we were on the same page, that those few times didn’t mean anything but good fun, and for a while Yuna didn’t do anything to make me think otherwise. Sometimes, one night stands think that they’re something more and it’ll complicate things, but Yuna was always chill."

Hoseok notices your expression and continues, "But ever since we started dating, I don’t know what’s gotten into her… No matter how many times I tell her I’m not interested, I can’t shake her off. There’s not much I can do but ignore her messages and leave her calls unanswered...”

“So…you’re telling me that she’s the one making passes at you? And that you can’t do anything but reject her over and over again…” Saying it out loud makes his explanation all the less believable.

“I know. I know it sounds like a weak ass argument. God, I’m sorry, you deserve better," he berates himself, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown. "I wish that I could tell her to fuck off for good.”

“Then why can’t you? Isn’t this harassment? You have to tell her to stop! This isn’t okay, and I’m not just saying this because I’m dating you, or because I’m jealous or want you to myself or—” You inhale deeply, catching your breath before you continue, "This isn’t okay, Hoseok. If a guy kept sending me dick pics even when I clearly told him I wasn’t interested—"

“I know," he cuts off your rambling with an exasperated sigh. "I know and I try to avoid her when I can, I do, but she’s in the fucking Mayday Showcase. If she was any other fuck, I would set her straight, but I don’t want to pick a fight right now. Our teamwork already sucks as it is… The showcase means too much; I can’t let myself screw it up.”

“You’re not the one screwing anything up. If this is true, she shouldn’t be acting this unprofessional in the first place.”

“Yeah, but it’s also my fault for not following the rules. We’re not supposed to fool around with anyone on our team for this exact reason. I should've known something like this would happen.”

“So what? You’re going to let her come onto you until the year is over? How in the world does that help your teamwork?” You cross your arms, lips pursed in displeasure.

“What else am I supposed to do? Jun even told me to deal with it on my own. ‘Keep your side fucks in line’ is what he said. Crude, but he has a point. It’s my fault, right? As the saying goes, I've made my bed so now I have to lie in it."

“Jun’s a dumbass…" Shaking your head, you don't know who you're more annoyed with — Jun for giving the world's shittiest advice or Hoseok for accepting his words without protest. "No wonder the teamwork is shit, when you have him as your captain. Maybe you should take it up with your dance instructor instead. Surely they’ll intervene, right?”

“So they can, what, pull Yuna from the showcase? And mess with the dance formations? We’ve been practicing this for months, it’s not something so easily changeable. If that happens, it’ll take more effort to adjust and rearrange the choreo. Dance comes first, it always has. It’s all I have, you know? It's all I’m good at. If I lose this chance, then there won’t be anything left for me to do.” He trails off, his eyes fixing a stain on the wall with feigned interest. He tries to mask his discomfort but you can see right through his act. It's not often Hoseok divulges his inner thoughts and insecurities; he probably feels embarrassed and regrets speaking too much.

A pause laden with tension follows, filling the empty void between the two of you, as you try to make sense of what he said. You're momentarily at a loss for words. Normally, you would provide gentle words of encouragement, but this time they get stuck in your throat. You still don't know whether or not to buy his explanation. It would be so easy to give him the benefit of the doubt and just go back to how things were in the past...

"Don’t get me wrong." The silence is finally broken with an awkward cough. "I don't care about Yuna; I don’t even consider her a friend. But I can deal with it. It’s a major pain in the ass, but I can deal with it."

You nod, not sure who he's trying to convince — you or himself. What is that even supposed to mean? Is he doing you a favor by letting this girl send him pictures of her in various states of undress? Mina’s words of warning ring through your head again, reminding you not to let him take you for a fool.

“I… I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have told me this earlier,” is what you say about a bout of silence. “Why did you have to hide this from me? Don’t you think this is just a little bit important?”

“I guess I… It sounds dumb, but I didn’t want to ruin things between us. Things are stressful as fuck right now, but when I’m with you, I forget about all that for a while. For the short amount of time I get to spend with you, things become easier to swallow. No deadlines, no practice, no drama. But I don’t want to make up some lame excuse. It was wrong, I know I should’ve told you right away and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“Alright.” The curt reply is all you can manage. Talking has only made you more frustrated. So you’re just a stress reliever to him? That’s what he’s getting at right… What are you supposed to make of that? Does he expect you to be grateful?

The residual anger hasn’t washed away yet, and you feel the traces linger.

“So, we good?"

"Are we?” You’re tired of brushing things under the rug. “I don't think we've ever been good... I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and talking to Mina helped me straighten my thoughts out.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst from the confines of your chest. You can feel the thrum of your pulse in your throat. Hands curling into fists at your side, you try to steel yourself. 

“I...I thi— I think it's best if we break up."

“y/n…”

“What we have isn’t a relationship—”

“Is that what Mina said?” He scoffs, slightly mocking. 

“It’s what everyone is saying!” You throw your hands up, your pent up anger exploding. 

“And since when do they matter? They don’t know anything about us.” The exasperated look he shoots you only irritates you further.

“But are they wrong?” 

“Okay, fine." He huffs, his brows pulling into a frown. He continues the next sentence in the same heated breath, "Maybe things aren’t ideal between us. Maybe we aren’t perfect together. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the poster child for any 21st century romance. But since when are relationships supposed to be a smooth sailing? Throw those ideals out the window. The stuff you read about in books doesn’t exist."

The look of frustration he pins you with roots you to the spot. You can't remember the last time he's gotten so worked up over something. Pushing himself off the wall, he stalks over to you, closing the distance in three long strides.

"But you know what’s real?" Hoseok doesn't wait for your answer, "I don’t need other people telling me how I should feel. I know what’s real.”

For the first time since you've met him, the words aimed at you are harsh and scathing. It feels like he’s digging an accusatory finger up against your chest even though he isn’t touching you at all.

“How you feel?" You can't keep the incredulity out of your tone. Scoffing, you cross your arms in the hopes that you won’t waver. You need to be strong, you remind yourself.

"Please don’t try to convince me to stay when you don’t even love me. Do you — Do you even like me?"

"Do I even—?  That's not the issue. Of course I like you.” He looks horribly affronted by your underlying suggestion, the crease between his brows deepening. A wounded expression falls over his face then, and he suddenly avoids your gaze. “But I— You’re right... I don’t know if what I feel is love. But at least I can say that I’m trying. Are you really going to run away at the first sign of trouble? I don't know much, but I don't think that's how relationships work."

“You always claim that you’re not the ideal boyfriend, but I’m not perfect either… I’m selfish, and I want a lot more than I lead on.” Your cheeks burn scarlet as you toy with the hem of your sweater, trying to distract yourself from the embarrassment that comes with your admission. It’s the first time you’ve been so honest, and, honestly, it makes your stomach turn. “I’ve never liked someone like you, I’ve never… I’ve never liked someone as much as you, either. But I feel like I’m investing a lot of myself in a relationship that isn’t going to work out. And as much as I want to be with you, I’m scared that I’m going to end up with the short end of the stick.”

Hoseok repeats your name, one of his hands tentatively reaching up to cup your jaw. His eyes don’t leave yours, like he’s trying to silently communicate the feelings he’s unable to voice out. You fix the tall bridge of his nose instead, then his pink lips — anything but the chocolate brown of his eyes. You’re afraid you’ll end up projecting your own feelings...and the last thing you want is to interpret his look for something else. You don’t need the false hope. 

“I’m really sorry,” he whispers, thumb stroking your chin, your lips. “You’ve always deserved better. If you’re selfish then what am I?”

When his lips meet yours, your eyes have already fluttered closed in anticipation. If you gasp into his mouth, he’s quick to swallow down the sound before it can reach his ears. 

Your hands fist the collar of his shirt, pulling him down closer to match your height. Greedily, you drink him in. His mouth tastes like the familiar, sweet flavor of Wrigley’s juicy fruit gum and the bittersweet taste of finality. You realize then how much you have missed him — his touch, the scent of his cologne that clings to his clothes like fabric softener, the way his lips work against yours with the intent of pulling you apart from the very seams.

"Ah, fuck," he curses under his breath when you nip the underside of his jaw, your tongue soothing over the mark with kittenish licks. You reach to pull off your pink hoodie, discarding it somewhere on the floor. The thin tank top you have on underneath draws attention to your cleavage which Hoseok can’t resist venerating with his gaze.  

The art studio isn't a private space. On the contrary, anyone is free to walk in unannounced just like Hoseok had moments ago. But like every single one of your risky encounters in the past, this knowledge only fuels your arousal. The desire that sparks within you whenever he's around always wins out.

One day, your kinks will surely get you arrested, you think self-deprecatingly. Arrested or kicked out of school. The thought barely forms in your mind before Hoseok tilts your head to deepen the kiss, wiping out your train of thought. His lips dull your senses — or rather they make him your sole focus. Whenever you’re with him, you don’t realize how severe your tunnel vision is. Lost in the moment, all you can do is concentrate on the way he gently cradles your jaw between his palms. Heat blooms inside of your chest with every swipe of his tongue against yours until you can’t remember anything but his name.

Hoseok seems to sense your urgency; he reciprocates your advances, his grip tightening around your waist as he backs you up against the window. Your back hits the cold surface with a thud. A throbbing heat spreads at once, your body reacting to his like it’s been conditioned to do so, but the pain doesn't have time to register, not when he presses himself against you and you find yourself sandwiched between the glass panel and his toned body. 

He pulls back and levels you with a heated look, "You want it here?" 

Your breaths mingle as he rests his forehead against yours while waiting for your verbal assent. With the way his arms cage you in his hold, you find it impossible to look away from the expression of lust that paints his face in bold streaks. It's like ripping off a Band-Aid, you think to yourself, convinced that it'll hurt less if you just fuck him out of your system for good. Hoseok interprets your silence for uncertainty so he adds quietly, "You can always say no. It's okay."

"I want this." Your answer spills from your swollen lips, too quickly for your liking, revealing your desire for the man in front of you. Having nothing left to hide, you decide to drop all prior pretences. "I always want you."

It's a truth you don't like to admit but can't bring yourself to deny. How can you pretend any differently? You've always been too honest about your intentions and your feelings, ignoring the warnings from your sister to never wear your heart on your sleeve. Although you understand the need to protect yourself from heartbreak and disappointment, you would rather experience that then live through a cycle of regrets and 'What If's'.

Hoseok's features soften at your admission, his thumbs hooking themselves in the loops of your jeans. Silently, he draws you closer still, your bodies perfectly intertwined, like two puzzle pieces slotting to make a match. Only a few layers of clothing separate you from him — you're so close you swear you can feel the drumming of his heart against your right breast.

From this close, you can't help but notice how the fire in his eyes is now smoldering rather than scorching. Sometimes the heat of his passion is so intense you feel like you'll combust into a mess of flames and smoke. If Hoseok is the sun, you are the fool who can't resist singeing her wings. But this way, it's bearable, you think to yourself, his darkened gaze making you slowly melt into a puddle instead.

"You're so good to me." His breath grazes your skin, his eyelashes fluttering as he stares you down. A thumb traces the curvature of your bottom lip like a sculptor admiring a finished masterpiece. "My good girl."

The words sear through you, no longer providing the comfort they used to. But the ache they leave in their wake is momentary, your mind refusing to dwell on the painful feeling.

Hoseok’s ministrations help distract you. Deft fingers inch under your shirt, caressing your supple flesh as gently as a bamboo brush sets ink to paper. The drag of his digits across the canvas of your skin is feather-light, almost hesitant, and you suspect this is Hoseok's way of making sure you truly want this as much as he does before going any further.

When you don't immediately back out or push him away, he pulls your top down far enough to expose your bra-clad chest, and cups your breasts over the last strip of fabric until you’re moaning against his mouth. The skimpy lace material leaves you vulnerable to his every ministratio — the soft squeezes of his hands on your mounds and the heel of his palm rubbing into you to provide delicious friction — and you can confidently affirm that no other man knows how to get you as riled up as he does. Hoseok is so familiar with your body that he could probably find each of your weak spots blindfolded. He uses this knowledge to his advantage, immediately honing his attention on your sensitive nipples, his thumb dragging over the lace covered buds until they're stiff and aching.

"A-ah, Hobi please..." Your tongue molds the words with familiarity, so used to begging for him.

"I know you enjoy that. Are you getting wet for me? Hmm, not yet?" He pinches you through the lace, the fabric chaffing your sore nipples. Your body jolts, breasts bouncing in his hands as he continues to play with your swollen buds. You have to swallow down your moan, unable to articulate the traitorous thoughts running through your mind. The longer this pleasurable torture continues, the more your body yearns for more. Still, you refuse to give in completely, wanting to test how long Hoseok could hold back.

Whenever you played this particular waiting game, victory had never been on your side. Not because Hoseok was unaffected — but because your desperation eventually became too much to tolerate.  

But expressing your desire through lidded eyes is a challenge; Hoseok chooses that moment to trace the slope of your neck with his lips, his head now buried in the crook of your neck, hidden from you. You tug the hairs at the nape of his neck, trying to make eye contact again but he doesn’t let you steer him away from his goal.

Hoseok presses each kiss onto your skin slowly, with purpose, as if you had all the time in the world to indulge in each other.

Why is he acting like this right now? Your teeth catch your lip in their hold out of sheer frustration. Each delicate print of his lips on your body reminds you of what you can't have, and your heart aches, heavy in your chest. The soft material of his jersey crinkles under your grip as you try to keep yourself upright and composed. You hate it, the way he his tender touch sparks something inside of you, chipping away at your resolve.

Over his shoulder, the clock on the wall catches your attention, and your spine straightens as reality sinks in.

"Hoseok," you tug insistently at the collar of his shirt in your attempt to remind him you were both short on time.

"Mmm, be patient." His teeth nip your ear lobe to accentuate his command.

"But we don't have—"

"If you want me inside your cunt, I want you nice and wet for me. Wait a little longer, okay? Be good." His sickly sweet smile is a hoax; it tells you right away that he's taking the utmost delight in making you squirm in his hold. Upon noticing the glare you sport, the corner of his lips quirk into a smug smirk, confirming your suspicions.

Patience is not your strong suit. On normal days, Hoseok is usually kind enough to cut to the chase, but for some unexplainable reason, he seems to want to draw this out.

Slow sex is welcome on lazy Sunday mornings, under the cover of thin sheets, in the privacy of your room. It's not convenient nor desired when you are running late for afternoon lectures, and even less so when the place you're trying to get it on is an empty classroom anyone is free to walk into. Of all the locations for a quick romp, it had to be the fucking art studio…

You know that if you want him to fast-forward the maddening pace he's set you need to lead the game. Hoseok knows your body inside out — but the same could be said for you; you know what makes him tick, what gets him unbearably hot under the collar, which cards to use to get his heart pounding.

Jutting your bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, you lower your voice into a sultry purr "B-but I'm dripping already." You almost tack on the word 'Daddy' for good measure, but you aren’t in the mood to play that game today. You don’t want him to be sweet or caring; you don’t want to trust him blindly anymore. All you want is to wash him out of your system as painlessly as possible. 

If Hoseok doesn't react verbally to your confession, you don't let that deter you. The rigid muscles under your clutch tell you that you've hit your mark.

“It’s not the same without you,” you continue, lust making you shameless. “I need you.”

You’re scared to acknowledge how much truth there is to these words. Deep down, you know they’re spot on, but you refuse to acknowledge it. You don’t want to be dependent on him, not for your pleasure nor anything else.

Thankfully, Hoseok doesn’t let you linger on those thoughts for too long. He unbuttons your jeans and slides them down your legs, pulling your underwear along with the denim. Material barriers now gone, a breeze of cool air caresses your exposed skin. 

“You’re right,” he smirks, thumbing over the incriminating wet patch on your panties. You can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about it, too impatient to get it on. One of his hands reaches past the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls out his hardened member, the thickness making your mouth go dry with desire. 

“Wrap your legs around me,” he orders as he picks you up by the meat of your thighs, the prints of his fingertips digging into your skin. You loop your arms around his neck like a lifeline; breath caught in your throat as he positions your hips over his erection. 

“Oh fuck,” you groan, feeling the head stretch out your walls as he pushes himself in inch by inch. You’re lubricated enough so that it isn’t painful, but there’s no dismissing the way his girth slowly works you open. However, the uncomfortable sensation quickly melts away and leaves room for pleasure.

The week you haven’t been with him feels like a month, and your body is eager to make up for lost time. 

“God,” he moans, brow creased, evidently as affected as you. His nostrils flare, muscles in his neck tensing, and he shudders when you clench around him without warning. Sweat drips down the side of his face, the tiny beads of perspiration making his skin glisten under the late afternoon sun. Your eyes drink this sight in, subconsciously trying to commit every minute detail of his face to memory. 

His hands keep you pinned against the wall as he works his hips against yours in careful strokes. You can feel the delicious drag of his cock inside of you as he pushes in and out, your body adjusting to the gentle rocking. He buries his head in the hollow of your neck, mouthing at the spots he knows make your knees buckle. 

"Always feels good with you." You almost miss the way he murmurs the praise against your shoulder blades. It's delivered so quietly, you can barely hear it over the hammering in your chest and the roaring in your ears, and you wonder if he means for it to reach you. The words aren’t said for an added kick or for show, you realize. 

"I want it d-deeper."  

He's already giving it to you so good; the fluidity of his movements, the way he angles his hips into yours and keeps your legs hoisted up around his middle — all of it a lethal combination intended to make you scream out his name. But desperation claws at you — you need more, need the pleasure to numb all other distracting thoughts. You want to overindulge until you’re so full from pleasure that you’ll never need to come back for seconds.

"Yeah? No one can give it to you like me. You love it when I fuck you out," he rasps, the sound rough around the edges. A whine leaves your parted lips when he lifts you back down onto unsteady feet. His hands slip down to your waist, keeping you stable as he turns you around so that your back faces him. “Turn around for me. That’s good, yeah—right against the window.”

Wobbling only slightly, you brace yourself against the windowpane, the position all too familiar. Except now, when you look down, you can see a swarm of students below, some walking to their next class, others sprawled across the freshly mowed lawn as they try to bathe in the last rays of afternoon sunshine. From the fourth floor window, you’re capable of distinguishing their faces if you squint, so you’re sure that if they happen to look up, they’ll be able to spot you, too. Even though the glass panel only exposes your face and the peak of your cleavage, you know any student who catches a glimpse at you whilst in the throes of passion won’t be duped into thinking otherwise. 

Eyes blown to comically wide proportions, your pulse kick-starts at the thought of someone observing you from below. Your breaths come out in short pants, and you can physically feel shivers run down your spine. Hoseok’s hand is steady on your waist, grounding you. 

“If you want to stop at any time, just tell me, okay?”  

“Just go,” you gasp, breath fogging up the window. 

Hoseok heeds your words of advice, not wasting any additional time as he lines up his slick shaft along your weeping entrance. When he pushes into you, your mouth parts to let out a high-pitched moan of pleasure. It’s only now that he’s stretching you out that you realize how much you’ve missed this, craved this. 

With one hand groping your left breast and the other tight on your hip, he fucks up into you, his hips slamming into yours from behind. He quickly abandons the slow, languid pace from before, his thrusts now rough, fueled by the need to reach his end. 

The lewd sounds that echo in the studio could alert anybody standing outside the door of what you’re doing. You wonder who is most likely to find out what you’re up to — a person walking by in the hallway or a student down below. With the way he’s fucking you, there’s no way of knowing.

It’s a miracle no one’s caught on yet. Not that you would have noticed them. Every piston of his hips makes your skin flush, perspiration making your shirt stick to your torso. His cock feels so good inside you — like it was meant for you — and you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions, your arousal evident with each mewl of pleasure to spill from your lips. 

“Is it wrong that I want them to see?” Hoseok breathes into the shell of your eat, the hot air making you shiver. Your mind ruses to supply the image his words conjure up and you can’t stop yourself from clenching down on his hard cock. “I want them to know that I own this pussy. They’ll take one look at us and know they’d never compare.”

His words make you tip your head back and you’re weak to resist the way his tongue finds your own, fucking your mouth to match the steady rhythm of his hips. It doesn’t take long for you to fall apart on his twitching cock, not when he knows how to please you so well. Hoseok’s pace falters as he feels your walls try to milk his cock. He ruts into you, swiveling his hips as far as he can go, his fingers bruising against your skin. He chokes your name between grunts before emptying his seed inside of you in thick spurts.

When your beating hard slows down enough for it to be bearable, your fingers twitch against their position on the wall, yearning to reach down and keep Hoseok inside of you. He pulls out almost too soon for your liking, leaving you truly empty with only traces of semen running down your inner thighs. 

It’s ironic...or maybe it’s fate, you think to yourself as you pull up your jeans, skin sticky with sweat and bodily fluids. 

You and Hoseok have finally come full circle, it seems. You started your relationship with Hoseok with sex and you ended it the same way. A relationship built on sex isn’t meant to last long. 

“I’ll see you around?” Hoseok says awkwardly. It’s strange seeing him at a loss. With you, he’s always taken the lead, so self-assured and experienced. The timid, unsure image of him in front of you makes you soften and grant him a small smile.

“Of course,” you humor, knowing the words are said for formality’s sake. Now that you aren’t dating or having sex, there’s no reason to bump into each other. Your classes aren’t on the same side of campus and you run with different circle of friends. 

Hoseok opens his mouth to say more but ends up swallowing his thoughts and keeping them to himself. You know the feeling. No matter what you try to tell yourself, you know that it won’t be that easy to move on — for you or for him. It’s only a matter of time before both of you somehow find a way back to each other. 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the figure leaning against the oak tree readjusts his cap, dark eyes never leaving the window where your figure was pressed up just moments ago.

[rockinmyownboat]

Weapons and Words

Some people have such a fundamental impact on our lives that even two decades later, we can still feel their reverberations echo in our souls.

22 years ago I was an angry and angsty sophomore caught in the throes of awkward adolescence trying to find my voice.

I met Leah when she was in college working towards a degree. She was the student's assistant to our English teacher. Aside from being genuine, honest, and kind, she also took an active interest in the lives of her students. Much more-so than the actual teacher did. Honest to God, I don't even remember the name of the teacher on the transcripts. Leah was my teacher.. I didn't care what the paperwork said.

I fell head over heels in an innocent requited admiration with Leah. It didn't take her long to become EVERYONE'S favorite Teacher. Aside from her genuine warmth and care, open thinkers were drawn to her like a magnet. She cultivated them. She was such a beautiful vibrant human that her very presence sparked great ideas and inspiration out of everyone she met just by talking with them.

Her creative writing assignments were both fun and challenging. She always pushed us to dig in deep. Find the extra substance beneath the surface. There was always improvements that could be made to turn a simple homework assignment into a Masterpiece.

She brought out the best in all of her students because she loved without bias and cared about them as people. She showed a fierce mama-bear-like dedication to our mental health.

She was always there.

One of the most valuable gifts she gave was to help so many kids find creative voices. She actively encouraged students to express themselves thru performance and art as catharsis from a shitty life.

She was the first teacher I remember encouraging us to dive headfirst into the currents of our talents and not fight against them.

When you're creative or poetic or musical, your brain is wired differently. It's like looking at the world through a stained glass window. While most people are content to look through just one color or another, you're more focused on seeing ALL the colors together and the bigger picture they all form.

A lot of our teachers seemed content to categorize their students and encourage bonded conformity by this detestable"one color" approach. They had been duped by the societal illusion that you have to pick one color to view the world through. So they encouraged that same basic dehumanizing worldview in their underlings.

Leah actively fought against that. She helped correct our developing moral compasses so we could start looking at the world as it IS... not how other people tell us it is. She taught us to see past our own opinions. And most importantly, she taught us to interact with people of worth with valued perspectives that differ from our own Agreeing was not a requirement to just listen.

She taught us the skill of respectful disagreement by teaching us to form bonds based on commonalities rather than differences.

She opened my eyes to disparities and injustices within our society. But she did so using gentle patience and fierce resolve tempered with genuine love.

I could tell she was face-palming a lot in the beginning. I had years of social conditioning in me to deconstruct, and bless her soul... she was patient with me. I remember walking out of class one day feeling "personally attacked" ... I was balking at the concept of "white privelege." The idea that our country was founded in racism had not even crossed my red white and blue washed brain.

I was very uncomfortable accepting this paradigm because of my ethnicity. Leah had to educate me through it. She had to coach me to find out the truth for myself.

That's what she did best. She opened doors of curiosity. One thought would lead to another and before long my perspective had completely shifted. She was great about leaving breadcrumbs and guiding lights everywhere.

Eventually I accepted that I had been raised in a racially biased society, through no fault of my own... but I had to change my view. Now I was responsible for how to believe moving forward.

Leah taught me to look for evidence and question and think for myself. The Brow-beating from other positions of authority were a lot less effective.

Junior year, I found out that she was teaching her own class on poetry. I had to take it. It didn't matter that I didn't need the elective credits. I was going to be in Leah's class.

What started off as a formal introduction to the world of poetry quickly devolved. It was Very informal and relaxed compared to the stuffy classroom atmosphere we had all grown accustomed to. And we had a small group of about 15 of us that regularly showed up every week.

Leah's lesson plans went pretty well for the first few days or so. We studied some Poe ... some Dickinson ... Definitely a Frost or two. Shakespeare. All the basics. And right about week two, she lost the reigns and never got them back again.

We got to learn about the beat poets. She introduced us to Kerouac and Ginsberg. And then we got into watching videos of beats poetry slams....

It was like nothing we'd ever seen. We had to do something with this brilliant concept of a TRULY OPEN mic.

We watched a documentary about a class that competed in poetry slam championships. These kids were our age and burning through volumes of their original prose like a Detroit rapper.

Over the course of a couple weeks we all realized that We did not want to just read and understand other people's poetic musings. We wanted to create our own too.

Every student in the class was titillated. To say we hijacked the class and rebuilt it was an understatement.

Oh don't get me wrong. Leah kept tight reigns on our activities and what we chose to invest the class energy into but it was all centered around using our words and creativity to express the emotional violence we felt instead of resorting to physical violence itself. we wanted to provide a creative outlet not only for ourselves but for all of our peers.

But we did it differently. It was no holds barred. If you wanted to sing a song on a guitar, that was allowed. If you wanted to do a native American chant, that was allowed. If you wanted to ramble onstage for three minutes and cry your heart out, we gave that safe forum where you would be heard, loved, and accepted.

Under her tutelage and that of her twin sister Rena, an also equally beautiful soul, we built a loving supportive high school student-led open mic network from four different high schools.

It was called Weapon of Choice: Word! And the name said it all.

We would all meet at this small intimate coffee house right next to the Amtrak Station in downtown Eugene. It was a vegan coffee shop called Out of the Fog and Morning Glory Cafe. (Years later, they shortened it to just Morning Glory Cafe, which definitely saved a lot of ink on the flyers).

Our flyers were designed by mostly graffiti artists that would craft ingenius interpretations of what our open mics represented to high school students all across the city.

I designed a couple flyers myself, one actually ending up as a tattoo on my shoulder as a reminder to be part of the solution. Not the problem.

Here's my original flyer I designed.

And here is the tattoo

Those open mics became creative hot spots thriving in the hearts of Eugene youth for over 15 years. It was incredible. After being part of the foundational group that established the open mic as a junior, I was still going back ten years after graduating and performing when I could.

All walks of life were welcome. All view points. It was the one place where you could have one guy saying "fuck God!" The next girl gets up going "fuck you if you hate God!" The stoner kid performs a banjo track going "why can't we all just get along?" The hippie girl all about her energy and crystals And then you find out this quadfecta of oddity are besties from different schools that all met in gym class.

We would sing songs and collaborate with each other. Leah pushed that a lot. She was kind of hard-core about it. She was all about destroying creative and ideological boundaries and the only way to do that was by collaborating and engaging new ideas and processes.

Some of those collaborations ended up going beyond just a one time performance. My band featured one such example.

I had penned a very sweet "I love you" song for a girl I was pining over and Rio had stepped in to write a verse for my song. In return I wrote out some guitar parts for him to rap over.

Now I didn't get the girl but the song was a hit and I got multiple requests to do a full recording.

Almost 6 years after I penned the original lyrics, I managed to sneak "September" onto Black Bell's "Truth of Silence" in 2010.

Eventually I played that song for my best friends wedding. It was the first song he danced to with his wife.

Leah laid the groundwork that made it happen.

Aside from cultivating our creativity for open mics, Leah was pretty fabulous about holding our feet to the fire on our education, too.

My senior year she had moved back to a structured lesson plan in language arts. We were continuing with the open mics but at that point those were taking a back seat to my studies.

I was a bad student for a couple years and I was not trending to graduate on time.

I remember the stressful meetings with my counselor and the principal and facing the devastation of not being able to walk with my class like I'd been looking forward to.

Leah believed in me. She kept me accountable. She helped me find solutions. She guided me to complete an epic turn around that not only saw me graduate with honors but I even had a scholarship to spring board into college.

She was beaming at me on the day I walked across the stage to receive my diploma. I recall as one of about 1600 graduating seniors that year, she cheered exceptionally loud for me. It meant the world then and twenty years later, it still does.

We haven't seen each other much since I walked with my class. Like I said, I came back for a few open mics when I was able to. In fact the flyer and photos were from my one such return. I believe this was my last open mic there. It was my birthday as I recall. Someone nabbed a picture and as much as I love the picture for what it represents, Leah and Rena got cut off the bottom of the photo.

I still check up on her once in a while.

Last time I did was about a week ago. I called Churchill's registration office to have my transcripts emailed to me. While on the phone I asked if Leah was still teaching.

Turns out in 2021, Leah had moved on to a community position... ever still the shining beacon of love and acceptance, she simply turned her attention towards educating adults on multicultural differences, as opposed to angry, angsty teenagers. I'm sure she's got her work cut out for her either way.

I will always love and adore Leah for being the perfect teacher I didn't even realize I needed at the time. She was the teacher that gave me the most powerful weapon I will ever wield against a world of woundedness.

She gave me My voice to fight against it.

#mylife

#mystory

#Leah

#characters

#highschool

#weaponofchoice

#word

#myfavoriteteacher

#voice

[dansphlevels]

Can I request a soulmate au! But like angsty

This took me longer to write than I intended, but God, I love it.

6:30 Special

Summary: In a world where you and your soulmate both have constellations of dark blue freckles that glow when you’re together, Dan has been waiting for his whole life for it to finally glow. And when it does, he is stood face to face with a man Phil, who looks back in confusion, his own constellation unlit.

Includes: Dan, the workaholic who accidentally ended up managing a small convenience store and spends most of his life there; Phil, the nocturnal painter who believes that art can only properly be made at night and buys a coffee every morning at 6:30 on the dot; and the story of a man who falls hard for someone who could surely never return his feelings.

Length: 8k + epilogue

Themes: unrequited love, soulmates, au, strangers to friends to ?

 Dan always wished that finding his soulmate was simple. He wished that their name was written on his forearms, or the moment that they met was shown on a clock that ticked down, like in some of the stories he read. Then maybe he wouldn’t have to be so worried all the time, wouldn’t constantly be looking for people’s marks and checking his own to see if they matched. 

 Unfortunately for Dan, finding his soulmate was a little more difficult than that. Somewhere on everyone’s body is a little spattering of blue freckles that show what the stars will look like the first time you and your soulmate kiss. Therefore, your soulmate should have the same blue constellation as you do. Then, when you are with your soulmate, the constellations light up, almost as a way of saying ‘I told you so’.  There were drawbacks, however. For example, most people liked to keep their constitution a secret. Your constellation was similar to your middle name, in the way that many people found themselves keeping it a secret, just because that’s what felt right.  That’s what Dan did. His constellation was five indigo dots at the top of his inner wrist, shaped like an archer’s bow. He covered it with a thick-banded black watch that was loose enough that if his constellation started glowing, he’d see.  He lived in a world where love was a secretive thing, a world of stargazers and people who wrapped bandages around their freckle constellations so that they could avoid a possible love. The soulmates system was flawed, but there was nothing anyone could do about it.  So Dan waited for the day when he would meet his soulmate for the first time and see his constellation light up like a glowstick. He’d always imagining what it’d be like to find someone with the same pattern as him, two archer’s bows, one on a wrist, the other on a hip, or a shoulder, or something like that.  Until Dan actually met his soulmate, he was excited. Until Dan actually met his soulmate, he’d always dreamt of how perfect it would be. Then he met his soulmate, and realized with a start that he was wrong, so wrong, because the day he met his soulmate was the day his heart was broken in a way that just wasn’t repairable.

——

 The day Dan met his soulmate, he was working at his job at ‘Murry’s’, the part convenience store, part minimart, by the pharmacy on 7th. He’d started working there as a part-time cashier but was gone the weekend that the other employees went on strike, so he ended up the only employee who wasn’t fired. Dan was promoted to store manager, and two part-time cashiers were hired, but cooperate couldn’t be bothered to rehire the whole staff, so instead they gave Dan a raise and told him to do what had to be done to keep the store afloat. This resulted in most of Dan’s life being spent at said mini-mart, whether behind the cash register, restocking the shelves, or in the back, where he often spent his nights when he had the late shift and early morning shift in secession.  That particular day was a Monday, and Dan had turned on the coffee maker, put fresh doughnuts in the display boxes, and sat behind the register, waiting for customers. Phil came in after about an hour. He wore a paint-splattered hoodie and made a beeline for the coffee machine. “Rough night?” Dan asked easily, observing the first time costumer curiously. “Never went to bed,” Phil mumbled, popping a lid on his coffee. “How much are the doughnuts?”“Depends on the type. The price sheet is on the side-” “I’ll get this one,” Phil decided, reached in and pulling out a pink frosted one. “And the coffee.” “Will that be all for you sir?” “Yeah.” Phil came up to the register, close enough that Dan could see the constellation on his cheek. Bright blue freckles, at least a dozen, vaguely forming the shape of a star. Dan’s heart drooped, the way it always did when he saw someone’s constellation and saw that they weren’t soulmates, the fear of being alone much worse than the fear of an ill-suited partner. Dan typed in the items, trying to ignore this. “Oh, that’s neat,” Phil mused, looking at Dan’s watch. “I think your watch’s flashlight just turned on.” Dan looked where he was pointed, and for a moment, he was positive that his heart had actually stopped beating. Because on his inner wrist, right underneath the watch, his constellation was glowing blue. It was a moment he’d dreamed of his whole life. Except for one thing. When he looked up, Phil just looked at him in confusion. The freckles on his cheeks were the same shade as they’d been before. The realization hit Dan like a truck. He’d found his soulmate. This man, Phil, was his soulmate. Dan just wasn’t his. —-Phil came in often. He didn’t sleep at night, apparently, because he was an artist and nighttime was his favorite time to paint. He came in around 6:30, sometimes 7, and got a coffee and sometimes an assorted pastry, always making small talk with Dan as he paid for his items. The first few times, Dan glanced at his watch over and over, checking to see if his constellation was still glowing. It always was. Sometimes, he knew that Phil had just parked outside because his constellation would blink into life, glowing excitedly. He’s here, he’s here! Dan, your soulmate is here! Dan imagined the lights saying. “He’s not my soulmate,” Dan would mutter under his breath, then look up, realizing he’d said it out loud. Yes he is! Yes he is! Look, I’m glowing, I’m glowing! Hug him! Kiss him! Marry him!Dan would chuckle under his breath and busy himself with the cash register or something else. The door would open, the bell jingling merrily, and without looking up, Dan would say “Morning Phil, paint anything new?” Phil, as per usual, made a beeline towards the coffee. “I’m working on a city skyline,” he’d say, or it’d be “a portrait”, “a recreation”, “a study”, “the space station”. Sometimes, he’d tease Dan, asking “How do you always know it’s me?” “This is when you always come,” Dan would say, still pretending to be busy. The blue light glowed happily, and Dan pushed his watch back against his skin, suppressing all of the light but the fine line of light just around the edge of his watch. Phil would get his things, go to pay, and Dan would find himself staring. The blue marks on his cheeks disappeared after a week or two, probably due to concealing foundation. It wasn’t uncommon to use makeup to cover up your constellation, especially for people like Phil who had their marks so blatantly displayed. Even after the marks became hidden, Dan couldn’t help but stare. Phil had the most beautiful blue eyes that Dan wanted to get lost in. But he couldn’t act unprofessional; he couldn’t scare Phil away; he had to stay cool. The light kept glowing. It seemed to get brighter as the time passed. Eventually, Dan gave in and wrapped a part of an ace bandage around it, putting his watch on over it and making a small tear in the fabric so he could still see when the little blue marks were glowing, but it’d be much less noticeable for anyone else. “You seem in a good mood,” Dan noticed one day when Phil hurried in, grabbing a doughnut and biting into it as he rushed to get his coffee, humming and smiling all the while. “My brother got engaged. He called me in the car,” he explained, taking another bite. “His soulmate. He found her.” Dan managed a small smile. “That’s nice. What do you think about soulmates?”He shrugged. “Love isn’t really a priority for me right now. It’s nice, I guess, the whole soulmates thing, but I’m not exactly looking.” “You haven’t found yours then?”Phil made a face, carrying his coffee cup over and placing it on the counter in front of Dan, digging around for his wallet. “Has anyone our age?”“I have,” Dan said before he could stop himself. “Oh. Have you gotten married yet?” “No. We’re not… together.” He tried making a face, messing with the cash register. “Is that all?”“Yeah, make sure to add in the cost of the doughnut. I had a glazed one.” Phil handed him the cash and Dan smiled, accepting it. For some reason, he wanted to lie about the price and have Phil only pay for his coffee, but it’d be futile. Phil had already been coming around for long enough that he knew the prices. “Thanks,” Dan said, perhaps a bit too genuinely. “And have a good day!” “You too, Dan!” Phil picked up his things and waved quickly as he walked out the door. Dan kept smiling until he was gone, then slowly slid to the floor, still smiling painfully. “You too,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Fuck.”——Phil was Dan’s soulmate, but Dan wasn’t Phil’s. It took a while for them to become acquaintances, and a little longer for them to become friends. Dan asked Phil about his job, his paintings, his family. Phil asked him about his life too, so Dan ended up telling him a fairly decent amount about Murry’s, the mini-mart where he practically lived. They went out for drinks once, after Phil had gone on a short family trip and demanded he and Dan catch up. Dan got to the bar first and found himself staring at the hole in the ace bandage, waiting for the light to blink on that signified Phil’s arrival. It did, and a good minute later, Phil was grabbing his shoulders, saying “Rah!” to try and scare him. They sat, they talked, Dan fell, and not just off of the bar stool, though he did that too. The night ended, and they exchanged phone numbers. Just friends. Casual friends. He was one of Dan’s only friends. Dan saw him far more than he saw any of his actual friends. Some nights, they went as far as texting. Hours would pass, and Dan would clean the store, close it, restock it, and fill in the books for the day, all while texting him.From: PhilUndertale?From: DanFinished it. One of my favorite games. Skyrim?From: PhilHaven’t played it. Is it a VR?From: DanYeahI’ll play it for days on end and just not sleep or eat or anythingI love itFrom: PhilI’d probably get seasickFrom: DanIt’s not that badFrom: PhilI’ve got a sensitive stomach! I’m also lactose intolerantFrom: DanSo you can’t have cheese?What about pizza?From: PhilI hate cheeseIt’s fine on pizza thoFrom: DanYou hate cheese???How????And good if you didn’t like pizza I’d have to boycott youFrom: PhilI can’t stand it! It just tastes so horrible!!Dan snorted, and went back to mopping. Dan always restocked the store on Friday nights. It was long and lonely- much less lonely when he Skyped Phil, who of course was also up, painting. Dan set up his iPad where he could see him as he organized and sorted a few boxes of fruit, throwing out the ones that had gone bad. They talked for a while, both accustomed to the night. “Did things ever work out with you and your soulmate?” Phil asked. Dan tried for a smile. “They’re… in progress. Sort of. I don’t know. Any changes with you?”“Nah, my constellation is as unlit as ever. Have I ever shown you it?”“Yeah, it’s shaped kind of like a star, on your cheek? Do you use makeup to cover it up?”“What do you mean?”“When you first started coming into the shop. You had a bunch of blue freckles on your cheek, almost in the shape of the star.” Phil ended up laughing, and explained to Dan that it wasn’t his constellation, it was likely just paint. “But it was there for weeks!” Dan argued. “I’m a nocturnal recluse who stays up all night painting and is addicted to caffeine. How often do you think I shower?” Dan told him, with an utter lack of sincerity, that he was disgusting. But he couldn’t help the flicker of hope welling up inside of him. “So where is your constellation then?” “My ankle. It’s always covered by my socks, look.” Phil tucked his paintbrush behind his ear, accidentally staining a small patch of his forehead a lily pink. Phil brought his foot up, pushing up his pants and rolling down his sock. “It’s right here. See? I think it’s shaped like the big dipper, but-” “It is,” Dan agreed. “Maybe more like the little dipper, actually.” “What’s wrong? You look upset.” “It’s nothing, I just… long day. I’ve hardly gotten a break at all, and I’m tired. Here, I’ll show you mine.” Dan unclipped his watch, trying to ignore his trembling hands. He pulled off the ace bandage, and showed his wrist to Phil on his iPad screen. “Oh, I like yours. It looks like that math symbol, you know? Like, the squiggly brackets things.” “I’d always thought of it as a bow, like the type an archer would use.” “Yeah, I can see that too.” Phil’s ankle was still on display, showing off his constellation of little blue freckles. “Both of ours are pretty similar.” “Yep. But they’re still… they don’t match. The bottom two.” “Yeah. But it’s not like we thought we were soulmates anyways,” Phil said, laughing good-naturedly. —–Your constellation only glows when you are in the physical presence of your soulmate. That’s why Dan could show Phil his over the video message, since it wouldn’t glow. Phil didn’t have to worry about that. According to him, his had never glown. “Do you ever wonder what your soulmate is doing right now?” He asked one Friday night as Dan organized candy bars. No. I know what my soulmate is doing. He’s painting a picture of a dog, and there’s green paint the shade of grass on his nose, and he’s smiling and talking to me openly about his soulmate, who is not me, because our constellations don’t match and I need to accept that they won’t ever match, no matter how hard I wish them to.“Yeah, sometimes.” —–“Morning, Phil,” Dan said from where he was kneeling on the ground, packing in packages of potato crisps. He didn’t have to look up to know it was him. “You’re amazing,” Phil said, heading towards the coffee maker. “But I guess you have that watch to tell you what time I get here every day.” “Or I just say 'hey Phil’ to everyone who walks in here until I get it right,” Dan suggested, while mentally telling his heart to stop racing and his cheeks to go back to their normal shade. “What’d you paint last night?” “An underwater scene,” Phil said as he poured his coffee. “It had fish and these big octopus tentacles wrapping around a coral reef.”“Ohh, tentacles. Kinky.” Phil laughed. “Only to you. You know, you should really look into hiring more employees. It seems like you’re always here.” “That’s because I am,” Dan teased. “And no one wants to work here. Frankly, I don’t blame them. The boss is such an ass.” “Aren’t you the boss?”“Obviously.” Dan scooted past Phil, nudging him lightly. “Don’t worry about it. I make good money. And I have this afternoon off.”“Oh yeah? You doing anything fun?”“Skyrim. Until a week has passed and I’m too dehydrated to move.”“Sounds healthy.” “Oh trust me. This break is just what the doctor ordered.” —————Dan spent the afternoon cleaning his house, his real house, the one he paid rent for and supposedly lived in. He scrubbed it until it shined with polish and he shined with sweat, then looked to the VR controller sitting by his couch.It starred back at him. It could be good to play it for a while, he reasoned. Think about something else. He went over and picked the headset up. He then set it on the counter, swapping it for his keys. ——Dan’s car was some offland, four wheeling, mini-van turned car for a manly man with a spacious backseat perfect for collapsing for him to put things into when he had to run errands for the store. Sometimes, right on Friday night he’d get a call saying there was a problem with this shipment or that shipment and he had to go to the store, coupons in hand, and buy the missing stock. A few times it had happened where the recycling bin in the back of the store was overflowing and it was still a few days until it was picked up, so Dan loaded some of it into his car, taking it to the recycling plant himself. The car was the only one he’d ever had. It was navy and was used when he’d bought it, but reliable and a comforting presence. He’d slept in the back of that car when he was in between apartments and when he first started working as the manager of Murry’s and was afraid that he could be fired if he was caught sleeping in the back of the shop. The point was, he cared for his car. It was already getting dark when he began driving that night, but he and the Navy Machine knew the way. Finally, he got to the field, far enough away from people that there was almost no light pollution. There, he drove until he hit the middle of it, parking the car and turning it off. The headlights turned off, and the true darkness of night was seen. Dan climbed up the hood of his car- another reason why he liked it, it never dented- and laid on top of it, looking up at the sky. The stars were on full display. Hundreds, maybe thousands twinkled above him, the crescent moon shining brightly among them. He exhaled, taking it all in. Almost subconsciously he found himself pulling off his watch and the bandage underneath it, raising his arm to the sky and finding what he called the soulmate stars, the five ones that would align in the shape of a bow on the day he kissed his soulmate for the first time. He found them almost instantly, not far out of place. It made his heart flutter. That meant that he’d either kiss his soulmate for the first time soon, or it’d be at least another decade before it happened. The constellation on his wrist always seemed to gleam a little bit brighter when he was out here, as if it sensed the other stars and wanted to go home.———Phil was telling him a story about how he used to think seahorses were actual underwater horses. His words were always so full of animation and excitement, even at such an ungodly hour of the morning. Dan, on the other hand, was exhausted. He sat amongst a huge pile of various cardboard boxes, and was trying to fold them down to all fit in his car. “…and he raised his hand and said 'Phil doesn’t know what a seahorse is!’ And everyone laughed!” Phil told the story like it was a casual, slightly humorous event, not some horribly traumatic incident like Dan would probably see it as. He was a ball of sunshine, sitting in a well-lit room with his painting project sat next to the computer he Skyped on, always just out of Dan’s view.Phil dipped his large brush into the light blue paint. Dan rubbed his eyes, trying to keep himself awake. “What’re you painting?” He asked once Phil was done with the story. “I don’t know yet. The inspiration hasn’t struck yet.” Phil was a sucker for inspiration. He said that once he got an idea, he kept working on it until he was done, usually with few breaks, if any. He started his paintings as soon as the sun began to droop behind the horizon, and depending on the size and complexity, sometimes finished as late as 5 or 6 in the morning. He ate meals before and after he painted, and then when he was done painting he brushed his teeth, cleaned himself up a bit, and went to Murry’s where Dan worked to get some coffee to make him through the rest of the morning. He had all of his meetings with gallery directors and clients in the morning, then went to bed around noon, or earlier if he could help it. Phil mentioned something about the last time he’d had creators block, and Dan requested he tell the story. “Well, one of the things I do on the side is do digital art for children’s books, and I was supposed to be drawing a fairy…”Dan found himself nodding along to the story, his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier. And then he nodded asleep. ——Dan woke up in the pile of boxes he’d been trying to fold, with his iPad facing him but the screen black. He rubbed his eyes, pulling himself up into a standing position and brushing some of the cardboard scraps away. Turning on the iPad, Dan rolled his eyes, wondering if he’d ever wake up later than 5. He went to the employee bathroom, which was far nicer than the customer bathroom. It was complete with a soft towel set hidden under the sink, scented soap, and a motion control radio that turned on smooth jazz whenever anyone walked in. It was an important touch, which he’d boughten last Christmas. This year, he wanted to get a new sink, preferably one that was deeper so I’d be easier for him to wash his hair in it. Or even better: have a shower installed. He cleaned himself up, put on his uniform, which he had several sets of in his office closet, and was going about the daily tasks when someone began to pound on the door, yelling something through the thick glass. He grabbed a metal spatula and marched towards the door, pushing his shoulders back. He instantly relaxed when he saw who it was, however. Dan went to the door and flicked the lock, opening it halfway. “Phil?”“Dan! You’re up!” “Yeah,” he agreed, not really sure what Phil was doing there before the shop had even opened. “It’s almost 5:30. I have to get it ready for customers.” Phil shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, um, my bad. I just figured since you fell asleep on accident last night…”Dan looked at his feet, willing himself not to blush. He really tried. “Yeah, nah, I don’t set alarms anymore, biological clock or some shit. Thanks though. And, um, sorry about falling asleep on you. I mean, not literally on you, but…” he stopped to breathe in sharply, and offered Phil a small smile. “Thanks though.” “No problem.” Phil was as alert and ready as always, as if he’d been awake for hours. Which of course, he had. “Since I’m here anyway, do you mind if-” Dan checked his watch quickly, still blocking the door with his body. The hole in the bandage glowed an intense blue. “It’s not quite 5:30 yet but… just don’t tell the manager.” Phil laughed lightly, and Dan moved out of the way to let him in. After he was inside, Dan flipped the sign so the store was officially open. Phil, as per usual, made a beeline for the coffee pot. “Sorry, I haven’t put one on yet,” Dan apologized, following after him. “It’s fine. Where is-” Dan opened the cabinet under the machine, pulling out a big bag of ground beans. He worked quickly, scooping them in and filling the machine with water at the same time, then choosing the setting right as the pot gurgled to life. He leant up against the counter, standing opposite of Phil. “What’s that?” He asked, noticing the smear of color on his hand. Phil was already saying “It’s nothing” as Dan was saying “No, show me.” “A color palette,” he explained. “I did a painting. And I was trying to get the right shades of brown, but I’m not sure if I’m doing it justice.” “Brown’s such a boring color,” Dan observed, the coffee machine working beside him. “I don’t think so.” Phil raised his hand, covered part of Dan’s body with it. His eyes flicked between his skin and Dan’s curious look. “I think I did it more justice than I thought.” “That’s good.” Dan paused the machine, pouring the dark liquid into a travel cup and offering it to Phil with still enough space to add cream. “Thanks.”Dan smiled and quickly went back to work, bringing out the pastries to put in the display boxes. “Where do you get those?” “A bakery a few blocks away drops them off every morning.”“I bet they’d get cold after a few hours.”“Not really. The box is insulated, so it keeps them warm.” Phil finished mixing his coffee and sipped it. “It’s good. Do you, uh, want some?”Dan peered out of the glass doors, watching the multicolored sky for a few moments. “Nah. I might get a doughnut though.” He went over to the case, and after much deliberation, decided it was a simple glazed kind of morning. He pulled out one for him and a frosted one with multi-colored sprinkles for Phil, handing it over. “Thanks. I’ll pay now, before I forget-” “Don’t worry about it.” Dan bit into his doughnut, and decided it was definitely a glazed doughnut kind of morning. “5 am special. But don’t think this means you can come early every morning and get free food.” That was Dan the manager talking. Dan the person wanted nothing more than to have Phil come over, every single morning, and have them both indulge in free pastries to their hearts contents. Phil laughed, saying something else but Dan didn’t really hear, all of his attention was focused on the way Phil’s tongue peeked out from between his teeth when he laughed. Dan took another bite of doughnut. To the 5 am special, he thought. —–That was the first time Phil came to the shop when it was closed. The second time happened two weeks later. It was horrid. At this point, Dan knew that he was as good as doomed. Phil kept asking him about his soulmate, why Dan isn’t in a relationship with them, whether Dan thinks it’ll ever happen, if they’re even talking. “I think that the soulmates thing is stupid,” Dan announced one day. “It’s a messy system that has too many issues. I’d rather just be able to fall in love without literally having a literal neon light tell me it’s okay.” Phil told him he thought it was sweet, and a time saver. “I know that I’ll find them one day,” he said over the phone, to which Dan had to actually set his phone down and hit his head against the metal shelving because fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. “And this way I won’t have to waste time with relationships that aren’t worth it.” Like a relationship with Dan. Because Dan was clearly not Phil’s soulmate, therefore a relationship between them would be a waste of time. That happened about a week after the 5 am special discount, and a week after that was when Phil showed up at the door, 11pm Friday night, when Dan had so much left to do. “Phil? What’re you doing here?”“You said you’d be working for so long you might pull an all-nighter,” Phil explained. “And I happen to be the expert at all-nighters. Plus, I don’t really need to paint tonight.” Phil had this horrid idea that he could just come by and help Dan prepare the store for the upcoming week like it was no big deal. He even refused pay. Dan literally wasn’t able to find anyone who would do this job for pay, and here Phil Lester was, with his permanently paint-stained hands and his kind smile offering to do it for free. It was surely against the store’s policies. But Dan found that he just couldn’t say no. Phil was a good worker. They put music on through the store speakers, and danced and hummed along to the familiar songs as they did their work. Dan would give Phil a box and show him where to line the things up on the shelf and how to arrange them in the most aesthetically pleasing way, all the while brushing their hands together and hoping Phil didn’t notice how much Dan was sweating. God, it was horrible. Dan wanted to combust. Phil smiled so much it actually made Dan frustrated. How dare this ray of sun come in and ruin his night of brooding?Phil only drank one cup of coffee, saying any more would disrupt his natural rhythm or some other excuse that made Dan want to hit his head against the wall so he could get a concussion and never have to deal with this warm fluffy feeling ever again. By around 3 in the morning the store had been thoroughly cleaned from top to bottom, the expired food had been thrown out, most of the goods had been restocked, and Dan had even managed to sneak away to his office for an hour to get the paychecks in line for his employees that week. They only got paid for the hours they worked when the store was open, which was one of the big reasons why he usually had no help in the Friday restock. Both of his employees worked part-time, which was less than 30 hours a week. The store was open for over one hundred hours a week. Dan finished up the boring work and shut down the computer, going back outside to where Phil was restocking the soda, singing along quietly to a song. Dan hummed along, alerting Phil to his presence. “You’ve got to love Ed,” Dan commented, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. “'Thinking Out Loud’ is one of his best ones.” Phil nodded in agreement, standing and stretching his back. “It’s got a good music video too. He learned how to professionally ballroom dance for it.“ “Oh? Like… this?” Dan tried to mimic slow dancing with an invisible partner, to which Phil responded with one of those damned giggles that made Dan’s dimple show up and his heart pound a little harder. “No, fancier. Let me show you.” Phil walked over, grabbing Dan’s hands in his purposefully, and having them sway side to side. “Yeah, this feels very professional,” Dan observed jokingly. Phil fidgetted with their posture, trying to get their rhythm right. “And there were spins…” He spun Dan outwards, except Dan wasn’t expecting it so their hands disconnected mid spin. “…and, um, solo moves.” Phil swayed on his own, stepping forwards and back and moving his arms like he might have some idea of what he was doing. “And lifts.” “Lifts,” Dan repeated. “Unless you’re talking about a lazy alternative to stairs, I don’t think I want to try.” “At least do the spin with me,” Phil insisted. He took ahold of Dan’s hand, and this time they were a little closer. Phil smelled better than he honestly should have, and Dan probably shouldn’t have taken so much relish in inhaling through his nose, drawing it all in. Phil stepped back, and came in, bringing Dan’s arm over his head so he spun. He spun once around, then was tugged back so quickly he accidentally ran into Phil’s chest. “My bad,” Dan insisted, quietly. 'Thinking Out Loud’ was still playing, at the part where it says 'people fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe it’s a part of a plan. But me I fall in love with you every single day, and I just want to tell you I am…’ Phil didn’t pull away. He held Dan close to him, almost in a hug, but somehow even closer. Dan could feel his chest moved as he breathed. It was 3 am. Dan was tired. Ed Sheeran was playing in the background. All excused Dan used later to explain his actions, to validate them. Phil’s eyes were so blue. It was a color no one, not even him, could ever replicate. They were beautiful. So Dan moved over a little. He and Phil were eye level, and their noses were almost brushing. Then Dan leaned in, until their noses were brushing, and then their lips were too, in a few quiet, soft kisses that felt so right until Dan realized Phil was as solid as a statue, and hadn’t kissed back. Dan pulled away, looking back at those eyes. Phil didn’t meet his gaze. “But Dan,” he said, voice breaking mid-sentence. “What about your soulmate?”——-Dan had the early morning shift the next day, but he called in one of the part-timers and traded shifts with them. Phil had left immediately after the kiss. There wasn’t much work left to do, and everything was too awkward for him to stay. Dan finished up his work so quickly he knew that he didn’t do it up to his standards. The cans weren’t organized right, the 2-liter bottles of soda were crowded instead of in neat rows, but he couldn’t care, he couldn’t care, he couldn’t care. He threw on his coat and sped out to his car, his heart pounding in time with his footsteps. He didn’t know where he was going. Actually, he did. But he didn’t need to. It wasn’t a conscious choice, driving out of the town five above the speed limit the whole way, but the Navy Machine knew where to go and knew how to take the corners. Dan hit the brakes and thundered to a stop, putting the car in park and turning it off as quickly as he was possible, his hands trembling. He hated how he got this way, hated how he could be a manager and a professional and how he could handle everything so well, except for when it came to Phil. When it came to Phil his composure dropped and his mindfulness dropped and all of a sudden his heart was beating loud enough to hear and his hands were all sweaty and trembly, betraying his thoughts.

He clambered up on top of the car, tearing his watch and the fabric bandage off and throwing them to the ground, laying down and raising his wrist towards the sky. His constellation was of an archer’s bow, five little blue dots going in and out gracefully. They matched perfectly with the five corresponding stars in the sky. His freckles, which had been turquoise, began to glow like the stars themselves. They didn’t glow blue like they did whenever Phil was around. Dan didn’t know that it happened, but he knew what it surely meant: he had kissed his soulmate, for the first time, tonight. It would also likely be the last time. Because as much as Dan wanted their constellations to match, Phil had a different arrangement of freckles. He would kiss his soulmate a different night.

Dan laid on the top of his car until he was shivering, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or something else. Finally, he came down, climbing into the drivers seat and falling asleep with the car still off.———He had the afternoon shift, and got there as his part-time employee began to pack up. “Someone came over this morning,” the started, and Dan huffed. Of course Phil came over this morning. Of course he did, of course he did, of course-“They said they were from upper management? They didn’t buy anything, just kind of poked around, looking under shelves and measuring stuff. And they asked to use the bathroom and I let them use the employee one. Sorry about that, but they seemed important and the customer bathroom smelled.” Dan rubbed his eyes, trying to process it. “We had a surprise inspection,” he mumbled. “One of the one day I didn’t finish cleaning, the one morning I wasn’t here.” He shook his head. “Well, thanks for telling me. I’ll go put my uniform on and then you can leave.” “Um actually… I kind of really gotta go.”“You can’t wait one more minute?”He shook his head. Dan looked around the store. There weren’t any customers currently inside, but if one came inside and Dan was in the back, they might steal something. “Thanks!” The employee said, hurrying out from behind the register. “Have a good shift!” Dan looked down. He was technically already in uniform, but his uniform was still dirty from wearing it all day and night yesterday. He peeked out the window and darted into the back, changing into his fresh clothes and running back out. There was one person in the store- an older woman named Meryl who rented out the apartment above it- who bought a large coffee and left. Once she was gone, Dan went over to the soda aisle, reorganizing it the right way as he had failed to do early that morning.—-That night, he went home and slept in his own bed. He came right back the next morning, opening it up promptly at 5:30 and starting up the coffee. He’d lost track of time, and before he knew it he was sweeping the floor and the little bell over the door jingled, alerting someone’s presence. “Dan?” Dan looked up so quickly he almost hurt his neck. “Phil? Why are you here so early, it’s only-”“6:30, on the dot,” he answered. “You would’ve known if you had your watch.” Dan was still so scatterbrained that he didn’t even fully process Phil’s words. “Oh! Um, I’ll get you some coffee then.”“I can get it myself, you don’t have to-”But Dan was already in motion, going over and pouring him a cup of coffee with enough room in the top for cream. He handed it to Phil quickly, almost spilling some.Phil stared at him, shuffling slightly uncomfortably. “Hey.”“Hey.”“I’m sorry about ditching you the other night. I said I’d help out, but I didn’t.”“No, you helped a lot!” Dan hated how he sounded so needy, hated how unprofessional it all was. “Thank you, it was very kind of you. And I’m sorry-” “You don’t have to be sorry,” Phil was saying, but he was looking at Dan’s hand or arm or something, not at his face. His eyes shot up, wide for a moment, then his poker face returned. “It’s fine. No harm, no foul.” He looked at Dan’s hand or wrist or something again, then back up. “Um… could you get me a pastry? I’m going to tie my shoe.”“Sure!” Dan bounded over, opening up the box. “What’re you in the mood for?”“I don’t care,” Phil said behind him, kneeling. “Maybe one of the warmer ones?” Dan chose one out and put it into the paper sleeve, turning around right as Phil finished pulling his sock back up. “Thanks. How much-” “6:30am special,” Dan insisted. “It’s okay. I’ll just pay for it.”——-Dan’s nights were much more boring without Phil. He ordered a new refrigerator for the store. He compared and contrasted produce companies until he ended up switching to a different supplier that would save them 25 cents per carton. He searched online, and considered remodeling the customer bathroom.He looked at his bank account, and paid his own bills. The results: he’d been making a lot of money from working so much overtime, but too much of it was being funneled into his rent, especially considering that he was hardly ever there. So the apartment search was on. Phil stopped coming by every morning. Meryl, the woman living in the apartment above Murry’s, died of a heart attack. Too many large coffees. And, the biggest thing to happen- Dan’s boss came by. “Murry’s is a shit store,” she said. “Over the past five years, we’ve had to shut down over half of our stores, and the ones that are still open are crap. Almost none of them passed the health inspection, there’s too few customers, and we’re losing money.” Dan began to argue, saying that they had loads of customers, but she shook her head. “Frankly, your store is the only one that we could keep open. But I’m retiring. I’m going to sell the remaining properties, and move to a three-story in Michigan.” “I’ll buy it,” Dan said, before he even knew what he was saying. “I’ll buy it from you and keep the store open.” She raised her eyebrows. “You want the place?” In the past month, Dan had already lost his soulmate. He refused to lose his job, the place he devoted so much of his life to, as well. “I want it. We have a new refrigerator coming in, and the bathroom is getting remodeled. I have money saved up, I’ll take it.” She considered this. “It’s not just the store. It’s the whole building, with the apartment above it. You sure you want it?”Dan forced his business side to take over. “I want to have a full inspection done of the whole building, see what repairs need to be made. Then we can negotiate prices.” ——Dan was doing paperwork when his constellation began to glow blue. He’d left his watch and bandage on the ground in the field, and since then hadn’t bothered trying to cover up the freckles that made up his constellation. Ever since that night when his constellation lite up like the stars, they’d turned black, like they’d been burned out. They felt more natural now, like an actual part of Dan’s skin rather than some paint that he couldn’t scrape off. Dan didn’t even think that they could glow anymore. But somehow, as he was filling out the papers, they started flowing blue like nothing had changed. Dan looked up just in time to see Phil slowly pushing the door open, coming in and stopping like he wasn’t really sure where to go. The first thing Dan said was probably dumb. “It’s evening.” Phil looked behind him, checking the sky through the glass doors. “Yep.”“Then… what are you doing?”Phil walked over slowly, his hands in his coat pockets. He shrugged. “I don’t really know.” His eyes latched on the blue glow radiating from the freckles on Dan’s wrist. He hesitantly reached over, flipping his hand so he could see the constellation. Dan watched his expression, trying to figure out what he was thinking. “My mark is different from yours,” Phil observed. “I don’t get it.” Dan sniffed, trying desperately to smile and failing. “There’s nothing to get. You’re my soulmate. I guess… I guess I’m just not yours.” Phil let go and backed up until Dan could see his full body over the counter. He bent over and slowly pulled his pants leg up, shoving his sock down to reveal his little dipper constellation- that was glowing blue. “I noticed it last time I saw you,” he admitted. “I saw yours glow, and when I checked, mine was glowing too.” Dan found himself looking down at his papers, shuffling them and desperately trying to look busy. “Oh, well, um…” “We’re soulmates.” Dan looked up. He smiled. “Phil… that’s not how it works.” He stepped forward. “It is. I’ll prove it to you, you just have to tell me how.” Dan gnawed on his lip. “Fine. But you have to trust me.” “Okay.” Dan tucked the paper away underneath the counter and grabbed Phil’s hand, flipping the OPEN sign and leading him out the door, locking it behind him. He pressed a button on his keys, and a few feet away a large blue car beeped. “Phil… meet the Navy Machine.”——Dan drove too fast, his hands too tight on the wheel and his teeth gritted. Phil sat next to him, in the passenger seat that was never used for holding anything but crates. “Where’ve you been lately?” Dan asked, flipping his blinker on as he made a right turn, almost completely ignoring the stop sign. “I went to an art conference in a city named after me.” Dan gave him a look. “In Philly,” he explained. “I was going to tell you, but then…” He shrugged, and Dan shrugged, trying to act like it was no big deal. “What’ve you been up to?”“I’m buying the store.” Dan said in a monotone. “And the apartment above it. It has some water damage, but nothing too difficult to prepare.” Phil congratulated him, albeit a little awkwardly. “What changes are you going to make?”Dan shrugged. “I’m going to get better staff, for one thing. Maybe increase the salary or benefits so it’s not such a crap place to work.”Phil nodded slightly. “It’s a good idea.”They both fell into a silence as Dan flicked his high beam lights on, no other car in sight. They kept driving for a bit longer until he pulled into a field, driving to the middle and stopping. “We’re here,” Dan mumbled, so quietly Phil practically had to read his lips. Dan turned the car off, climbing out and pulling himself onto the hood, crawling onto the roof of the car and sitting there, waiting for Phil to follow. “Wow,” Phil said, after he was sat next to Dan. His left leg dangled off of the side, and his right leg was bent at the knee, gently pressing against the roof of the car. Dan hummed in agreement. The stars were as bright as ever, and on the cloudless night, the sky was so clear that they covered it, going on endlessly. Phil stared at the stars. Dan stared at Phil. His attention was caught by a small cluster of stars that shined a bit… differently than the others. They formed an imposter Little Dipper in the sky.

Phil rolled down his colorful sock, the constellation on his ankle glowing even brighter than before. Dan looked back and forth between it and the stars in the sky. They were the perfect match. Phil kicked his shoes off, letting them fall to the grass and scooted back. He laid down on the top of the car. “You can see the stars so much clearer here than in the city.”Dan nodded. “That’s why I like it.” He bit his lip, then kicked his own shoes off and moved back to lay next to Phil, staring up at the sky. “I actually know a lot about constellations.”“Yeah?” Phil moved his hand, brushing some of Dan’s fringe aside. “Like what?”His blue eyes were brighter than the stars. “There’s the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, and the Nemean Lion, which is from Greek Mythology,” Dan recited, hardly paying attention to his words. Phil intertwined their hands, giving Dan’s a gentle squeeze. “The Greeks were obsessed with stars.” Phil was smiling. “I can’t blame them. I… I missed you Dan.” Flutter flutter, the sound of moth wings inside of Dan’s chest. “I missed you too,” he admitted. “There’s so much I wanted to talk to you about but couldn’t.”“I know what you mean.” Dan rolled over onto his side, resting his head on his arm. Phil followed suit, so close their knees were touching and Dan could hear each individual breath. Phil’s eyes flicked down a little. “So when I asked you, about your soulmate, and you said you weren’t together…” “It wasn’t a lie,” Dan explained, in that voice that only Phil could ever get out of him. “I knew who it was.” “Me.” Dan smiled. “You’re my soulmate. But our constellations are still different. We kissed that night, remember? They should match.” “Maybe.” Phil brushed his hair out of his eyes. “But Dan… I didn’t kiss back.” A thousand different thoughts went rushing through Dan’s mind at once, questions and information that he’d thought was set in stone, but was actually set in sand. And Phil leaned forwards, he was leaning forward, and Dan knew to do nothing else than to kiss him. His lips were warm and soft, tasting of coffee. They kissed on top of his car, under the stars and the moonlight, until finally they pulled away and found themselves clutched in each others arms, panting and trying to hold it together. “Dan,” Phil said, and was his voice always that deep? “My constellation…”Dan moved just far enough away to look down to Phil’s legs. On his right ankle, his constellation glowed as bright as the stars. “We’re soulmates,” he said, and Dan had never relished the word 'we’ quite so much. “We’re soulmates.” And Dan pulled him into another kiss, almost smiling too widely to do it properly.

Epilogue

Request A Fic / Fic Masterlist

Fun fact: when I went through to edit this, I found out that I misspelled every single ‘constellations’. Every single one. There are over 30.

But genuinely, I love how this story turned out. If you were the one to send in the ask, please let me know how you liked it! And I always love talking and discussing my stories and the universes, so if you have any questions regarding the technicalities of the way soulmates in this story work, let me know and I’d love to discuss!