#but this creative decision won’t stop bothering me

[oceanview15]

[kcwriter-blog]

Why Three Choices Doesn’t Bother Me

I’ve been trying to figure out why only having three choices doesn’t bother me. It should. Some of my favorite theories that I’ve created have to do with who drank from the Well, but, honestly, it doesn’t really matter to me.

I know it matters to many people and their feelings are valid. I’m writing this to make sense of my own feelings, not to invalidate anyone else’s. Here are the main reasons I’m not bothered.

The idea that this is going to be a Solavellan love fest is predicated on a couple of sentences in the IGN article and a screen shot. Both may very well be taken out of context.

For the IGN article, the question about the Inquisitor/Solas relationship was asked by a Solavellan to a Solavellan so the answer reflects that to some degree. I personally think people are reading way too much into it. The Solas romance is simply being used as an example of the most complex relationship the Inquisitor can have with Solas. If you hate Solas and want to kill him, that isn’t complex at all. If you romanced Solas you will have complex feelings because most Solavellans do. They call it Solavellan Hell for a reason.

As the Inquisitor is being brought back all of those different complexities must be addressed. Creative Director Jon Epler has said that no matter how you feel about Solas the end of his journey should be satisfying. Which means if you vowed vengeance, you will most likely get it.

I don’t care if my Inquisitor feels a little responsible for not stopping Solas. A good leader should feel a little responsible. The buck stops here and all that sort of thing. My Inky was a good leader. She doesn’t feel responsible for Solas’ decisions, but she feels she should have seen him for what he was, and she should have been able to stop him.

Then there is the screen shot. It’s just a screenshot. For all we know, when you click on your love interest there is a pop up that asks for a little more info. For example, whether Iron Bull is dead or not. We didn’t see that. Maybe it’s under NDA. I don’t know and won’t know until I get my hands on the CC.

Yes, there are three choices according to the IGN article. It didn’t say whether there were choices nested within those choices. Anyone that has spent time on the Keep knows clicking on a tarot card brings up other tarot cards.

Can I come up with an in-game reason for this stuff? Yes. The Inky your Rook talks to, isn’t your Inky. It’s a spirit masquerading as Inky just like Justinia in the Fade in DAI. How? Well, Inky could have died, Inky could be one of Solas’ memories or since the Fade reflects important events and Inky was important, it reflects them. Devs just said Inky would show up. They didn’t say it would be in the waking world. In that case, the Inky you meet might only have generic things to say about their LI – that would include if you romanced Solas.

I’m not saying that’s what’s going on. I’m saying it’s a direction the writers could go in.

As for a Solas-romancing Lavellan being the default? We don’t know that either. The default Inky is a female elf. That doesn’t mean she romanced anyone. When I played DAI my default Hawk hadn’t romanced anyone either. But she doesn’t have a valleslin! My understanding is that neither does a male elf and, in any case, not all Lavellans removed them. That would have to be considered.

 Again, everyone is reading into things and getting upset over things that have not been confirmed. And the default doesn’t matter to me because I will be customizing my Inky.

Why am I not upset that the decisions made in the previous games won’t carry through. Maybe because I first played DA2 and DAI with the default world states. When I went back in and played with world states, the decisions used didn’t seem to have much impact. I couldn’t stop Anders from blowing up the Chantry, for example. Yes, Alistair was on the throne but so what? That didn’t have any impact on my game. When I played DAI Anora said pretty much the same thing to me in Redcliffe as Alistair said.

So basically, the only reason to miss it would be because I enjoy those little call backs. The thing is, I don’t play just to check up on digital friends. I have an imagination for that. I don’t need BioWare to tell me if I’m right or wrong. I don’t need their validation of my headcannon.

Okay, but what about the big decisions. Well, I want those things to make sense. Let’s take the Well for example. That seemed like it could be a big deal. Solas got upset. Mythal can control whoever drank from the Well. But, Solas getting upset is in character for him. He hates anything being bound and drinking from the Well binds the Inquisitor. It’s as simple as that. It doesn’t mean bad things will happen down the road. Solas gets angry about a lot of things.

But what about Mythal? Well Solas’ detractors keep screaming that he killed Mythal. If he did in fact kill her, then who drank from the Well is a moot point. She can’t control anyone.

But she might be in Morrigan. She might but if Morrigan drank from the Well it’s a moot point because Mythal controls her anyway. If Inky drank from the Well, she and Morrigan would have to be in the same room. I have a feeling that’s not going to happen - which again makes who drank a moot point.

But if Mythal is in Solas? It would be out of character for him to use the power of the Well that way. He didn’t use it in Trespasser, if he even had it. He may very well have been controlled by Mythal or the other Evanuris that way. He is unlikely to do it to anyone else. And again, he would have to be in the same room as Inky. As much as we Solavellans want a heart-warming reunion, that might not happen until the end of the game.

In my opinion, anything about who drank from the well would have to be shoehorned into the story. I mean if you were hoping for Solas or Mythal to make your Inquisitor attack Rook, you might be disappointed. I didn’t want that, so I’m good. It’s Rook’s story. I don’t think Inky is getting a huge amount of screen time.

What about Morrigan and her status as a parent or not. She would mention that, right? Sure, if she is in fact all Morrigan. But she is wearing Mythal’s crown indicating she might be Mythal wearing a Morrigan suit. In any case Mythal is going to be more interested in getting revenge on her murderers than discussing her family status with Rook.

But surely, Varric is going to talk about Hawk. Maybe? He didn’t tell my Inky about the real Bianca until she was standing in front of her at Skyhold. Asked point blank about the name of his crossbow, Varric said it’s the one story he would never tell.

And in any case, at the start of the game, Rook and Varric have been together long enough that Rook is Varric’s second in command. I would assume they have had conversations about Hawk in the past, off screen. Varric may still mention things Hawk and the DA2 gang did in the past. He may not mention anything about where they are now, which is what people are really asking for.

But there won’t be any cameos! Why not? Dorian made a cameo in Tevinter Nights. If you romanced him, he would mention Inky. If not, they could be friends or at least have developed a respect for each other over the past 10 years. I’m sure the writers are creative enough to come up with other cameos.

What about codices and other callbacks? Why wouldn’t the Wardens have your Warden’s armor on display in their fortress? Why wouldn’t the Crows have something about Zevrhan? Again, it might not tell you what they are up to now, which is what people really want to know. And there can be cameos and codices related to NPCs where choices weren’t involved but fans remember them fondly.

Another reason I’m not bothered is I had to ask myself why I expect things that happened in the South to have an impact on the North. When I was playing the first two games, what was going on in the North didn’t have a huge impact on the South. I didn’t even know there was a Black Divine. I didn’t know about the Mortalitasi until Cassandra brought it up in DAI.

But what about the parts of the North that are under the sway of the Southern Chantry? I’ve noticed that all the Northern kingdoms are more cosmopolitan. In Rivain you have Dalish settlements and Qunari settlements. I assume they are doing their own thing. It’s like knowing who the pope is but since you are Protestant, it doesn’t really affect you. And I have to assume the South has been busy rebuilding the Chantry in Orlais which also might not have an effect on the North.

It’s been ten years. A lot changes in ten. Do you know it has only been eight years since Trum was elected president? In that time, we’ve had his disastrous presidency, a global pandemic, war in the Ukraine, genocide, etc. and that’s just the stuff that might affect other countries. Each country has their own concerns that we Americans might not really know anything about. Why should Thedas be any different?

I mean Antiva is dealing with the Quanari. They took over Treviso. If I lived there, I wouldn’t care what’s happening in the South. It wouldn’t be on my radar. Yes, there was a hole in the sky but look how quickly Fereldan and Orlais decided things were so back to normal that the Inquisition wasn’t needed anymore.

Maybe I’m being too logical about this, but I just don’t feel the doom and gloom. Also, I’ve played Mass Effect 2, and I remember only having three choices at the beginning of the game. And you know what? I really enjoyed ME2. So, I expect to enjoy this game.

Now what the writers said in response to the outcry was tone deaf. And I am sure PR/Marketing called them on the carpet. However, they have poured their blood, sweat and tears into this game. They know the story. They know what is important. They know if something fits or doesn’t fit. We don’t. We know what we would like to have. You know what? I would have liked DAI to be about the Mage/Templar war but that didn’t happen. I would have liked Samson to be the Inquisition’s Commander not Cullen. I didn’t get that either. I still enjoyed the game.

Bottom line? I trust the writers. People keep talking about the layoffs, but every writer is a veteran of DAI at least with some going all the way back to DAO. There are veteran ME writers on board as well. Story telling is what BioWare does best. I’m looking forward to the game.  

[absurdly-overpowered-astronaut]

you know something that has bothered me about persona 5 ever since I played it is how they don’t address Yusuke’s attitude towards art.

He idealises the artistic process to the point its clearly self destructive (ie doesn’t eat , doesn’t have any money ect) and more concerning the idea of the true artist. The artist who is divorced from all worldly needs and pleasures the artists who has cut themselves off completely from society all in the name of their unbending artistic vision.

The best example I can think of off the top of my head is when he comes over to Ren’s house he gets them to watch art documentaries with him and if I’m remembering correctly the guy in the documentary left his family and completely cut himself off from society for the sake of his craft and yusuke considers this aspirational.

The problem is this attitude isn’t actually all that helpful. Any work done while depriving yourself is never the best work you could have made whether that be of sleep , food , social interaction , joy ect and art devoiced from society lacks meaning the best art isn’t completely removed from the human experience it reflects and comments it on it

but more so then this mindset being destructive and a tired idea I have distain for it feels like such a clear extension of Madarame’s abuse. We see Madarame also holds this mindset so Yusuke must have gotten it from him and it seems to disproportionately benefit Madarame and reminds me of abusive behaviour.

if yusuke doesn’t value and understand money or the worldly pleasures it can afford him then he won’t be bothered by Madarame receiving all the money from his works and it makes him more dependent on Madarame / the school he goes to because he can’t for example take the train , afford food or housing and it somewhat limits him socially making it harder to go out with friends.

“Social abuse is behaviour that is aimed at cutting you off from other relationships. This can be your family, friends, your workplace or a community you belong to.

The abusive person may:

-try to stop you from seeing other people or going to social activities

-try to stop you from going out

-make it difficult for you to use your car, other forms of transport or mobility aids” (in this case train)

“Types of financial and economic abuse

The abusive person may:

-take full control of all the finances, spending and decisions about money so that you are financially dependent on them”

if yusuke thinks that the only compensation a “true artist” needs is the artistic fulfilment of completing a work then he won’t be bothered by Madarame taking the credit

if yusuke thinks he needs to cut himself off from the world and others then he will be less likely to realise that what madarame is doing is wrong but also that he is completely dependent on madarame.

“Abusive partners will often try to isolate their victim, i.e. limit their access to those close to them in order to weaken them psychologically. The victim ends up cut off from the relationships that fuel their inner strength, provide validation and support, and could help them to see their situation more clearly.”

(I’m using an example from an article about abuse in romantic relationships but the point still applies)

if yusuke is single mindedly focused on the creation of art that benefits Madarame more because the more art the more compensation he receives

“An abuser may deliberately deprive the victim of sleep, with the aim of making them more vulnerable. The abuser may startle her awake just as she's about to fall asleep, refuse to let her sleep to settle an argument (often deliberately started at bedtime), or wake her up incessantly during the night” “The victim then loses a lot of stamina and finds themselves greatly weakened, both psychologically and physically.”

the idea that only other creative souls will understand your work creates a us vs them conflict and allows the abuser to easily reflect with “they just don’t understand”

It introduces this dynamic that wanting anything that doesn’t contribute to the art is bad and makes you a worse artist a worse person. Its assigning morality and success to the behaviour that madarame wants to incentivise and disincentivise he wants yusuke to make more art but he doesn’t want to yusuke to become disconnect or independent so the sentiment that to be a true artist you must let go of worldly possessions once again loops back round to reinforcing abuse

even though he is out of the abusive environment he still hasn’t unlearned/been confronted on this mind set.

[ikatako38]

Hey all, I have some good news and some bad news.

The bad news

is that TPWCH is going on an emergency (unplanned) hiatus. This means I won’t be making any effort to work on the fic or any related work such as art and side projects, whicle I try to get myself back on my feet. This means we might miss the 2nd Anniversary Special, but I will post it eventually even if it’s late. I’m really excited to share it with you! I don’t know how long this emergency hiatus is going to be, but I think somewhere around a month would be a reasonable estimate. Keep in mind that this is when I’ll start working on things again, so it might be a few more weeks after that before you start seeing content again.

The good news

is that I’m going to be emptying out all my WIPs, notes, and any other content I can easily throw at you guys to help hold you over throughout the break! So anyone following me here should be getting a bunch of exclusive content over the next several weeks.

Also,

since everything’s getting pushed back, I think now would be a good a time as any to start Ship Wars! I’m not going to put an exact start date on it yet, because it will take a bit of work to kickstart, and I don’t know when I’ll get around to that, but once I do get it started it should mostly run itself!

So…

I feel like I’ve been saying this a lot lately, but thank you guys so much for sticking around with me through all of this. I’m painfully aware that I’ve only uploaded one and a half official chapters since April, and I know that I’ve lost a lot of readers because of that. So again, thank you so much for staying. It really means the world to me.

I’m sure the question a lot of you probably have on your mind right now is, Is Tako ever actually going to finish TPWCH? And with how things have been going lately, that’s a very valid question. To be 100% honest with how I’m feeling another the fic right now, I kind of wish it could just be done already. Or that it could just somehow write itself. But the reason for that is that I’m so excited to share with you all other parts of the TPWCH universe that are just waiting to be written! I really don’t see myself dropping the TPWCH universe anytime soon, and I really don’t see myself dropping TPWCH itself anytime soon, either. And an important reason for that is simply that… I don’t have any other ideas to write. Even for other fandoms. It’s a bit crazy just how strong of a hold TPWCH has had on me for three years now.

By the way, that’s not normal for me. Back on my FFN and Wattpad days (don’t bother going to look for my accounts, they don’t exist… yet 👀), I was usually working on 3-5 fics at once and was constantly having ideas for new ones, to where it was a struggle to keep up and I to make hard decisions about priority. I don’t know if I’ve gotten less creative with ideas as I’ve gotten older or whether TPWCH is just the first universe to be so interesting to me that I don’t have any need or desire to come up with new things outside of it.

Either way, if I have no desire to work on other things, the only way TPWCH would ever stop is if I stopped writing altogether, and that’s just not going to happen. Writing has been a huge part of my life since I was ten, and maybe even younger. It’s my most important hobby and makes me happy. If I don’t do it for too long, it’ll actually make my mental state worse.

So I really don’t want you guys to think that this is like a vacation for me, or some sort of respite from the… AWFUL chore of writing. (　ﾟдﾟ) Really it’s more like I’m grounded from writing until I can get my grades up. (;_;) The grades in this case, yes being my university grades but also my life in general because it’s been kind of a mess lately. Within the last two weeks, I fell out with two of the closest people I’ve ever been to and pretty much the only irl friends I have at this point (the Discord server will know who these people are). One of them going very badly and increasing my conviction that everyone secretly hates me. （╹◡╹）On top of that my room is slowly becoming uninhabitable, I’m not sleeping, and I’m just constantly stressed and anxious. But I’m gonna be okay. The fallings-out are very fresh and will fade with time, and just two days ago I finally got a consultation for ADHD. I now have initial diagnoses of ADHD and Social Anxiety Disorder, which I should be starting treatment for in about a month, so I’m really hoping that will help me somewhat to get back on track. And all the support from everyone between Discord, here and AO3 has always helped, and I’m sure it will continue to help. Many of the people I’ve met online through the fic have ironically been far more supportive and trustworthy than the people I’ve met irl. You’re all so real for that ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Wow, that got really long! Thank for reading this far!

[saiilorstars]

Ch. 19: The Beast

Fandom: Harry Potter (Hogwarts years 1-7) Pairing: Draco x OFC

taglist: @ocappreciationtag​ @arrthurpendragon​ @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel​ @stareyedplanet​ @foxesandmagic​

Story Masterlist // Romina’s Masterlist

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

For Harry, taking Care of Magical Creatures was a dream compared to Divination. One class and he was already being sentenced to death (again!). He was beginning to regret his decision in the class, but no one like Hermione.

By the time the three Gryffindors arrived at Hagrid's Hut, most of the students were already there. Hagrid was merely ushering the last arrivals to follow him towards the paddock of the school. Harry could see familiar heads up ahead, including Dean, Seamus, Pansy Parkinson...and Romina...with Draco (alongside Crabbe and Goyle).

"Am I late!? Am I late!?" Harry heard Arden calling from behind. He, Hermione and Ron stopped walking to turn sideways and see Arden running breathlessly towards them.

"Arden, you're on time," Hermione smiled at the girl.

"Stupid Lilah couldn't find McGonagall's class," Arden rolled her eyes. "Has anyone seen Romina?"

With a sour face, Harry pointed a finger at Romina up ahead. When they followed his gaze, Hermione and Ron grimaced.

"Oh no he won't," Arden muttered, but not for the reasons the Gryffindors hoped for. "You know I got stuck with Draco as a Divination partner? He is absolutely the—"

"—world's biggest blabbermouth," Draco couldn't finish complaining to Romima about the Divination class he had just finished. "I thought Parkinson was enough but no, King actually won that title all in the span of an hour. I don't know how you stand her. I think I'd rather take Carolinha—"

Romina merely hummed to agree. She was holding her bag, well almost clutching it, due to the monstrous book inside trying to bite its way free.

"Actually, no I take that back. I can't bloody stand Carolinha," Draco said with a shudder.

"Watch what you say about my sister," Angel warned from behind them. Beside him, both Blaise and Theodore snickered. "Shut up!" Angel said.

"It's true!" Draco exclaimed. "Theodore was right there and Trewlawny sat King down next to me! It's horrendous! She's — Oswell, are you even listening?" Draco shot Romina a look, a suspicious one at that. "I just insulted King to and back and you haven't bothered to snap at me as usual. I look forward to it, honestly. Pushes me to be more creative with my responses."

"Hmm…" Romina went once again.

Draco tilted his head at her curiously, wondering if he really could just get away with anything right there. "...Arden's an annoying, little mudblood."

"Hmm."

There was a minute of full shock before Draco was berated for his words, but not from Romina.

"You're not so hot yourself you so-called 'pureblood'," Arden smacked him on the back before moving forwards to walk alongside Romina. "Actually, you're not hot at all."

"Don't touch me!" the blonde snapped.

"Then watch your fucking words!"

Romina finally blinked from her stupor with the two shouting at each other. She did, however, miss the Golden Trio passing by shooting curious, and yet disapproving looks, at them. "What are you two doing?" she asked Draco and Arden with a frown.

"Oh, now you talk," Arden made a 'done' motion with her hands. "At the rate you were going, even Crabbe and Goyle would have gotten their shot at me."

"What?" Romina, lost, glanced at the two mentioned boys. This time, they really were innocent.

Draco straightened up and gave her a look-over. "What the hell is wrong with you? I could have insulted the entire school with my favorite vocabulary and you wouldn't even have noticed."

"Am I supposed to?" Romina raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's not the point - what's wrong with you? What, did the new haircut cut off the oxygen to your brain too?"

"What — no!" Romina scrunched her nose.

"You're not yourself, Oswell."

"That..." A strange smile appeared on Romina's face, "That is good to hear. Thanks." She patted Draco's arm and kept walking, leaving him very confused.

"Didn't I just—" Draco shook his head. This was making less sense by the minute. He looked over at Arden, both simultaneously deciding to put away their differences and focus on the true problem: Romina.

They hurried after Romina and bickered along the way.

"Well don't look at me," the blonde began, huffing at Arden, "You're the one who lives next her, don't you? Fix her."

"Me?" Arden pointed at herself incredulously. "You're the expert pureblood wizard—like Romina —so you should know if this is some sort of high class witch problem."

"How do I know it's not muggle related? That's your business!"

"It's not! She's been like this all fucking summer—"

"Then it is muggle-related so it's your—"

"Would you two knock it off?" snapped Romina, finally showing some true emotions on her face when she turned around to them. "I'm not a project to fix between you two. Arden, for the love of God, I'm fine. I've been telling you this all summer. And Draco, honestly, what's it to you? You only care because I'm your potions partner now and you don't want me to spill anything on you again which" — she pointed at him — "I have already apologized for. Be honest, you don't care. Just leave me alone."

Draco once more exchanged glances with Arden, a bit offended this is what he got for actually giving a damn. Arden shrugged at him. "I don't know either," she said honestly and went after Romina.

Hagrid was ushering everyone around a clearing, making sure they stayed behind a specific line.

"Gather 'round. Find yerself a spot. That's it. Now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books—"

"And exactly how do we do that?" Draco practically demanded once they'd gotten nearer. He still had doubts about the assigned book, and truthfully so did everyone else.

It was then that Hagrid noticed none of the students actually had their books opened. He became a little disappointed. "Crikey. Didn' yeh know? All yeh've got ter do is stroke 'em. Look..." he reached for Hermione's copy of the book. He snapped the spellotape Hermione had put around it and, just as the book opened itself up and snapped its meaty teeth at him, Hagrid stroked the book's spine. Just like that the book calmed and it opened.

Awed, the students quickly tried to do the same with their copies while Hagrid went into the trees to retrieve the creatures for their lesson. Neville was having trouble with his book - not surprising anyone though - and went tumbling down the ground with the book shredding up his robes.

"You're supposed to stroke it, Neville," Romina sighed and went back to help the boy before his ear was bitten off by the monster book.

Neville wasn't the only one struggling. There were plenty of other students fighting their books to stay alive.

"God, this place is going to the dogs. Wait until my father hears Dumbledore's got this oaf teaching classes," Draco purposely commented to Crabbe and Goyle, instantly earning Harry's attention.

Harry turned towards him, already glaring. "Listen, you stupid prat..."

"Harry," Hermione quietly hissed at him to back down. The last thing they needed was for an argument to break out.

Unfortunately, Harry's response brought on the taunts from Draco and a few other of Slytherins.

"Seriously?" Angel cast a look over at Blaise and Theodore who were part of the taunters.

Romina had returned with a shaken Neville at her side and looked at the stand-off. "Oh God," she rolled her eyes. "Would you two—"

Draco had dumped his things into Crabbe's arms, startling the latter in the process as he scrambled to take everything into his arms. Draco then walked up to Harry who had taken the same steps as well.

"They're not going to fight, are they?" Romina heard Daphne's squeakish question behind her.

"Not if they know what's good for them," Romina said, though she did watch the two idiots like a hawk.

It seemed like Draco was going to say something but caught sight of something behind Harry. For a moment, Harry was confused as Draco jumped and stumbled a few steps back.

"Dementor! Dementor!" Draco pointed wildly behind Harry.

Harry jumped in his spot and turned around to where the Dementor would be, nearly falling back. Of course, there was nothing, but now he had a group of Slytherins laughing at him for it. It didn't stop until Draco and a couple more Slytherins pulled their robe hoods over their heads, making ghost-like sounds at Harry. The boy seethed with anger. Hermione grabbed Harry and pulled him away before something worse happened.

"You guys are that bored!? Seriously?" Romina yelled at the group and had half a mind to rip their hoods off to smack them each.

"Well, least that got you out of your stupid trance," Draco said as he fixed himself up after his joke.

"You're stupid," frowned Romina.

"Woah, what a great comeback. Got anymore back there?"

Romina balled her fists on either side of her. "Shut the—"

"Romina, save your breath," Arden came around her best friend's side. "C'mon, Hagrid's coming back."

Hagrid had indeed returned but not alone. He came with a strange beast with hind legs and tail like a horse but its front legs, wings and its head resembled that of an eagle. Most of the students were a bit scared while Hagrid got the creature in.

"Beau'iful, isn' he?" Hagrid called to the class.

"Scary," Daphne's voice was the only response he got.

"Not scary at all, Miss Greengrass," Hagrid assured. "But Hippogriffs are very proud creatures. Easily offended, they are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it migh' be the las' thing yeh do. Right then - who wants ter come an' say hello?"

Everyone looked around with wide eyes, no one daring to raise their hands. Each of them took a step back - well, Pansy Parkinson took two steps back to which Arden snickered at - and left Harry right in front.

Hagrid turned around and took that as his volunteering. "Good man, Harry!" Harry suddenly noticed he was the only one standing up front and shot Ron and Hermione betrayed glances. With no choice, he approached Hagrid and hoped for the best.

"This here's Buckbeak, Harry," Hagrid introduced the creature. "Yeh want ter let 'im make the firs' move. It's polite, see? Jus' take step forward, give 'im a bow, and if Buckbeak bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. Ready?"

No, Harry thought, but he nodded anyway. He took in a small breath and did as Hagrid had instructed: he bowed. From his eyelashes, Harry could see Buckbeak cocking his head and intently studying him. For a moment, it appeared like Harry was failing the task…

"Back off, Harry!" Hagrid urgently instructed. "Back off!"

Just as Harry stepped back, Buckbeak ducked his beak. Hagrid was quick to congratulate Harry on his task, looking pretty relieved himself. "Well done, Harry! Go on. Give 'im a pat."

Although Harry was still a bit nervous, he figured nothing else would happen now. He cautiously gave Buckbeak a gentle pat on his beak and smile when the rest of the class clapped for him.

"Look at that! I reckon he migh'let yeh ride 'im!"

Harry's smile vanished and was replaced with a heavy alarm. "What!?"

Hagrid didn't seem to notice it as he moved around. "We'll jus' set yeh behind the wing joint. Mind yeh don' pull any feathers out. He won' like that."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait—" Harry began but Hagrid had easily picked him up and dropped him over Buckbeak's back. With a slap, Buckbeak took off with Harry on his back.

The rest of the students rushed closer to the paddock's gate in hopes of seeing the creature flying above them.

"I want a go next!" Arden laughed ridiculously loud, super excited at the prospect of getting a turn. Romina's lips twitched but a full smile never happened.

When Harry returned, he was exhilarated from the ride.

"Oooh, that looks like fun, doesn't it?" Arden fervently clapped and nudged Romina to say something about it. "C'mon, you know you want to smile. Hmm…? Just a little bit?"

"Yeah, alright…" Romina gave a light shrug of her shoulders, "...Harry can do that."

From behind them, Draco rolled his eyes. He moved around them and pushed past any other students in his way. "Give me a go at that thing. If Potter can do it, it must be easy!" Ignoring Hagrid's and Harry's looks, he skipped the bowing ordeal and went to touch Buckbeak. "You're not dangerous at all, are you, you great ugly brute—"

"Malfoy! No!" Hagrid was too late to stop it. Buckbeak made a growling noise and slashed his talons down on the blonde who screamed on the spot. He was knocked on his back on the ground.

Harry ran forwards when Buckbeak was about to strike again and managed to get the creature to stop midway.

"It's killed me! It's killed me!" Draco cried from the ground, clutching his arm.

"Calm yerself! Yer fine... jus' a scratch…" Hagrid rushed to the boy.

"Hagrid!" Hermione called, "He's got to be taken to a hospital. I'll go with you, if you like—"

It was clear Hagrid was just as lost as they were but he wouldn't let anyone do his job for him. "No. I'm the teacher. You all...you all just...class dismissed!" he effortlessly picked up Draco and carried him off towards the castle.

Arden and Pansy watched with mixtures of emotions as Hagrid left, but the two (as well as the rest of the class) had to follow. Arden groaned and shook her head. "Way to go, Draco, ruining my chance at riding Buckbeak! I fucking hate him — Draco, not the Buckbeak."

Pansy looked at her indignantly. "Are you insane? That beast just hurt him!"

Arden rolled her eyes. "Relax, he just got a cut. Pomfrey can fix that in a snap," she snapped her fingers for show.

"He could get infected!"

Arden snorted, making Pansy grow angrier by the second.

"Girls, there's really no need to argue about this," Daphne said as she came up beside them.

"Ha!" Arden laughed. "The day I fight over Draco Malfoy with Pansy is the day you can bury me 6ft under."

Pansy's face was reddening. "Arden, you are so—"

"Pansy, watch it," Daphne said warningly.

Arden didn't seem to care whatever insult Pansy was going to hurl at her. "You're being ridiculous. He'll be fine. Romina, tell her she's being ridiculous."

"That seems hard for her right now," Blaise's drawl drew the girls' attention behind them. He, Angel and Theodore were walking beside Romina, each of them glancing at her with the same bemusement.

Romina had both her hands pressed to her nose, covering her mouth. They could hear soft, muffled chuckles.

Pansy looked even more offended. "Are you laughing, Romina?"

"Oh my God, she is," Arden laughed herself. "Well, at least Draco managed to do something right today! Somebody should give him a gold star. Do you guys do that here?"

Blaise and Theodore looked at her, confused but amused at the same time. Pansy growled at them.

"He really shouldn't have done that," Angel sighed. "I'm sure Hagrid will get into trouble now."

"Maybe he shouldn't have started with a huge creature like that," Theodore shrugged.

"That, and Malfoy should've watched his fucking mouth but that'll never happen," Blaise said and snickered with Theodore. "It's actually kind of — Oswell, is it really that funny to you?"

Romina was still trying to suppress her giggles behind her hands. "It's just — why is Draco so dramatic? At best, he got a few scratches."

"There was blood!" Pansy exclaimed. "How are you laughing?"

"I'm not — honest, I'm not laughing at him but...well...he shouldn't have done it!" Romina said, trying to be stern but every now and then, her lips would twitch with a smile.

"Lay off, Pansy" Arden snapped. "If she wants to laugh, let her laugh! She hasn't laughed in weeks! I might give Draco the gold star myself for this!"

Pansy refused to hear any more and raced back to the castle, no doubt heading to the hospital wing.

"I shouldn't be doing this…" Romina tried taking in a deep breath to calm herself down. It was actually very rude of herself to be laughing at someone who got hurt.

"Doing what? Laughing?" Arden snorted again. "Why not? You gotta admit it was funny. Draco was asking for it."

"I don't think he was asking to be injured…" Romina lowered her head as her lips began to stretch into another smile, "...but it was a little funny. Oh god, I'm terrible."

"I might like you a little bit more," Blaise remarked.

"That settles it," Romina said immediately, flinging a finger at Blaise. "We need to apologize."

"What?" frowned Arden as Romina's eyes landed on her. "What is this 'we' nonsense?"

"Daphne didn't laugh," Romina said, pointing a thumb at Daphne who was very serious about the matter.

"I'm not doing it!" Arden said, but it wasn't the end of the conversation.

All the way to the castle, Romina insisted that they should at least go see Draco and make sure he was okay. Angel, Blaise and Theodore seemed to agree with her albeit not for the reasons she wanted to visit. She still had the idea she needed to apologize. The boys got a head start and headed up to the hospital wing.

"I am not going," Arden said loudly and put her hands on her hips, attracting the attention of Harry, Hermione and Ron. The trio were coming in behind their group.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked them curiously. Arden seemed to be the most upset between her, Romina and Daphne.

"Romina, here," Arden gestured to the girl, "laughed at Draco and now she wants to go and apologize to him."

"Are you serious?" Ron flatly asked Romina. "Malfoy deserved it! He was just trying to up Harry and failed."

"I still shouldn't have laughed," Romina persisted.

"It wasn't very nice," Daphne ultimately agreed.

"I agree with you," Hermione said, earning crazed looks from Ron and Harry. "But I don't think you need to apologize, Romina. He was too busy screaming his head off. I'm sure he's wailing upstairs."

"Well I would be too if some creature cut my arm," Romina shrugged.

"Rom…" Harry tilted his head, absolutely horrified with her perspective. "He does not deserve your care, much less your guilt."

"I'm going," Romina grabbed Arden's arm, "And so are you. Daph?"

"Yup!" The blonde girl nodded cheerfully.

"I don't want to go!" Arden complained even as she was dragged off between Romina and Daphne. "He called me names during Divination! I hate him! If anything, Buckbeak should've bitten him or something!"

The three Gryffindors watched the girls head up the stairs.

"I always did like Arden," Ron said after a moment, getting an agreeing hum from Harry. "She just gets me."

Harry laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes at both of them and left them.

~ 0 ~

Romina was amazed at how long Arden could complain about a one single person. She forgot about that natural skill during her time locked up in her room. It didn't help that when they came into the hospital wing, Pansy was still there. Granted, so were Angel, Blaise and Theodore.

Arden sucked in a deep breath, making a motion that she was going to calm down. "You owe me big time for this," she warned Romina as they walked in.

"C'mon," Romina grabbed Arden once more by the arm in case she ended up running off.

"Oh, now you come," Pansy snapped at both of them. "Do you know she was laughing at you, Draco? Romina? She was. A lot."

"I'm sorry," Romina moved over to the blonde who was now shooting her sharpened looks. He seemed to be resting pretty comfortably on his bed to be that seriously injured.

"So my dangerous injury was a source of amusement to you, Oswell?" He scowled.

"Hardly an injury," Arden muttered. Romina elbowed her on the side. "What?" Arden shot her a look.

"Shut it, King," went both Draco and Pansy.

"Why are you even here?" Pansy asked them.

"I'm here because Romina dragged me here," Arden didn't hesitate to say, "Think I'd like to see your face more than I have to? And Daphne's just too kind to you guys."

"And you, Oswell, why are you here?" Draco curiously, yet discreetly casual, asked. He didn't like knowing she'd basically been laughing at him but if she was here, then it meant she did want to see him...right?

Romina eyed his injured arm and shrugged. "I just wanted to apologize for laughing, and to see how you were doing."

Half satisfied, Draco began to complain about his arm. "It's that stupid beast's fault - no, hold on, it was that 'professor' Dumbledore geniuously thought would suffice."

"C'mon, you and I both know Buckbeak only acted out because of what you said," Romina gave him a look. "Hagrid clearly told us what not to do around a Hippogriff."

"I mean, who can really understand him—"

"Draco," Romina deadpanned him.

"What? It's true!"

Romina shook her head. "Why'd you even go up to it anyways? Arden was hellbent on going next and you don't exactly strike me as someone who would've liked to take a ride on that thing."

"Trust me, he isn't," Blaise said all too smugly.

"Shut the fuck up, Zabini," Draco promptly said.

"Why'd you do it?" Romina insisted to know.

Draco opened his mouth to respond but quickly shut it when he realized the answer was directly related to her. As if he would ever say it.

Romina took his silence and mad her own presumptions. "See? Even you don't know! I bet you don't know why you do half the things you do! You got lucky that Buckbeak didn't actually hurt you that much—"

"Excuse you?" Draco frowned. "That thing nearly killed me!"

"Draco, it scratched you at best. And I'm sure that under that sling you're wearing, the gash is on its way to fading."

"Oh, sure, act like that then!"

"Act like what?"

"I bet if it had been Potter instead, or any one of his other little friends, you would've been worried sick about them!"

Romina was startled with the accusation. "I wouldn't — you're not even that hurt! By tonight, you won't even have to wear that stupid sling anymore!"

"Quit being so insensitive," snapped Pansy.

"How can I be insensitive to an injury we can't even see!?" Romina practically shouted, instigating Madame Pomfrey to shush her from the desk.

"Nice to see where your loyalties are, Oswell. Feel free to close the door on your way out," Draco spat and purposely scooted closer to Pansy's side.

Romina's mouth hung open with surprise. "What?"

"Get out," Draco ordered her with the coldest eyes Romina had ever seen. She certainly had never seen them against her.

She blinked a few times, still unable to believe what was going on. She looked around at their friends, feeling quite embarrassed as they looked between her and Draco. She definitely had not planned on arguing and much less to the point where Draco felt like the only solution was to kick her out. Even then, Draco's hard expression had not lifted. He meant every word and intended for her to leave. So she did.

Without saying a word, Romina turned and walked towards the door. She heard Arden say a couple of curse words then felt her rushing after her.

~0~

Transfiguration was set just before lunch. The class was wild with what happened in Care of Magical Creatures, but others were a bit more tuned into what happened in Divination. It only occurred to Romina that something was wrong when Harry chose to sit at the back of the class. She dropped in her usual seat beside Hermione and noticed several students giving Harry weird looks.

"Did I miss something?" she asked curiously.

"Lots," Harry corrected. "You've been out of it, Rom—"

Romina raised a hand and stopped him. "Yeah, I've got it. So what's everyone looking at you for? Is it for Buckbeak?"

"Haven't you heard?" Ron said, dead serious. "Earlier, Divination class was a—"

But at that moment, McGonagall had started the class. Everyone shifted in their seats to face her at the head. Still, being a little more alert now, Romina caught several people in the class looking away from McGonagall to stare at Harry. Was the previous year about to repeat itself again?

"Really, what has got into you all today?" McGonagall stopped her class when she had enough of the shifting looks. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."

Her answer came in the form of everyone staring at Harry. The boy wished he had his cloak now to disappear. Finally, next to Romina, Hermione raised her hand and spoke.

"Please, Professor, we've had our first Divination class this morning, and we were reading the tea leaves, and—"

"Ah, of course," McGonagall cut Hermione off, looking already done with the situation despite not hearing the entire story. It appeared like she knew the ending. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

There was a dead silence in the room until Harry spoke up.

"Me."

Romina whirled around in her seat, flabbergasted. She got confirming nods from Ron and Hermione.

"I see," McGonagall looked at Harry with the least bit of concern. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues —" McGonagall took a moment to pause, probably to calm herself some students murmured, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney…" but she stopped once more, probably about 'not' speaking well of the subject. They started over again with what she considered the most important thing. "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

There was a scurry of laughter, one that even Romina couldn't hold back. After class, she still had questions regarding the famous divination class.

"Is that seriously a class, though? Like...properly certified and stuff?"

Hermione huffed her doubt. "Apparently. But I just voice my disagreement—" Ron cut in warning her not to start again with her threat to drop the class.

Romina figured they were like Arden and Pansy, only less aggressive...and with no actual hate. "Well, I mean it all comes down to one thing doesn't it?" Romina asked, meaning to cut off that argument.

"What?" the three Gryffindors waited for her to answer.

"I mean, Harry, have you seen a great, black dog anywhere lately?" Romina managed to joke, only to get a very serious answer instead.

"Yeah, I have. I saw one the night I left the Dursleys'."

Ron helped and nearly fell forwards if Hermione hadn't grabbed him by the robes. "Oh calm down, it was probably a stray," Hermione dismissed the matter.

"Wait - you left the Dursleys?" Romina blinked. "When did you do that?"

"Hermione, if Harry's seen a Grim, that's — that's bad. My — my uncle Bilius saw one and — and he died twenty-four hours later!" Ron continued battling with Hermione.

"During the last bit of summer," Harry nonetheless answered Romina, and calmly too.

Romina understood perfectly why she'd missed it. "Oh. And...where did you go?"

Harry didn't bother throwing her an accusation of not offering her place seeing as she was battling something herself. "I ended up at the Leaky Cauldron. That's where Mr. Weasley told me about Sirius Black."

Once again, Romina went pale. "Y-yes."

Noticing it, Harry jumped in to say what he hadn't been able to earlier. "Rom, look, I know it's tough when it comes to talking about your parents—"

"They're not my parents," Romina sharply corrected. "I don't know them and I don't want to know them. Look, Harry, can we not talk about that stuff? I actually feel terrible apart from all of this."

"Why?" Harry tilted his head at her.

Romina didn't know if she should even bother telling him nor Ron and Hermione what happened with Draco in the hospital wing. But of course, Harry had already asked and he wasn't going to let her go. So, she told them and as expected, both Harry and Ron made it clear that she should not feel an ounce of guilt towards Draco. Romina didn't bother trying to explain herself, and she wasn't going to until something strange happened.

"You're both so insensitive," Hermione's reprimand startled Harry and Ron. Their head snapped in her direction, as did Romina's eyes. Hermione's face grew pinker and pinker within seconds. "Well, I only meant — it had to have felt terrible getting kicked out in front of your friends like that."

Harry scoffed. "Romina's not friends with Malfoy."

"How do you know?" Hermione challenged him. Of course that only led to all three Gryffindors turning to Romina for her answer.

Romina regretted telling them anything right now. "It's...well...it's complicated."

"It shouldn't be," Ron said curtly. "He's a prat. Git. Take your pick."

Romina sighed. "You know what? I'd rather not. I don't plan on arguing with anyone else today. I got a lot on my mind as it is. I'll see you guys later." She walked around them and had all the intentions of going back to her room to do some homework and, who knows, make sure she looked as different as possible.

[bajicantspell]

Drunken Haircut ❕

Baji x gn!Reader

Summary: Getting drunk with your bf lead to an unexpected makeover

Warnings: Cursing! Slightly suggestive! Alcohol consumption 🛁🛁🛁

‘I swear to god if you fuck it up…’ ‘Just shut up and stay still dumbass.’

Baji swears he loves you. He knew it from the first day he met you and he knows it each and every single day that he spends with you. He loves you even more now that you were slowly building a life together, having recently moved in together. You were his first love and he truly hopes you’re the last. He swears you drive him crazy in the best way, the kind of way that still makes him nervous around you despite years of dating. He loves everything you do together. He loves the cozy dates that you have. He loves when you stay home and get absolutely drunk and do stupid things just like you used to when you were 16. He loved that despite aging together, you both never grow up. Those are the perks of dating the love of your life that also happens to be your best friend, he thinks. He knows you’re his endgame.

But god he swears he could kill you right now.

One of the many things Baji takes pride in is his hair.

His hair that hasn’t changed since middle school.

The same hair that you were currently messily bleaching.

It was a normal Saturday night for you. You both just wanted to enjoy each other’s presence, drink a bit, watch a movie and maybe something more. But he knew better than to expect your ‘casual’ date nights to be, well, casual. He loved that you matched his impulsiveness and recklessness, but right now, in his slightly dazed mind, he questioned whether or to he gave you a bit too much creative freedom.

It was your idea, of course, and you know the power you hold over the smitten boy, so him agreeing wasn’t a surprise. You both quickly ran to some 24h open store to get bleach, still tipsy and in your pjs. You quickly came home with the hair dye and some more cheap booze.

‘Baby don’t be so nervous, I’ve done this before.’’ You reassured him with a kiss on the cheek while wrapping up his raven locks with the foil.

‘I still don’t trust you.’ ‘Stop whining, you big baby. I’m almost done.’ He continued bouncing his leg up and down despite you scolding him about moving, you just didn’t bother reminding him to stay still. He was always like that, you thought, no one could keep him still, it wasn’t in his nature.

‘Aaaand done! Now we just have to wait for it to set and then you have to wash it off.’ You said, a pleased smile on your face, proud of your work.

He stood up to look in the mirror. He looked at the very ends of his hair wrapped up in foil and sighed, already regretting his decision to trust you.

While waiting you had to remind him ever few minutes not to mess with the foil; he didn’t listen of course.

You cracked open another beer before noticing the time. ‘Babe its time. Go wash your hair.’ ‘You won’t join me?’ He said with half lidded eyes and a smirk.

He looked absolutely ridiculous trying to be all charming with foil on his head, and of course you made sure to point that out.

He grumbled something you didn’t quite hear before heading to the bathroom.

He got out relatively quickly and you helped him dry his hair.

Once his hair got dry he turned to the mirror, admiring your work.

He looked absolutely smoking hot, but you couldn’t tell him that, it would go straight to his already huge ego.

Instead you decided to pull him by the small silver chain that hung perfectly on his neck. The chain you gave him for his latest birthday.

Pulling him closer you whispered, ‘ I’ve done a good job have I not?’ He looked into your eyes then at your lips, and wrapped his arms around our lower back .

‘Don’t do that.’ He said in a low tone, referring to you pulling him in,your fingertips still hooked around the jewelry.

‘Or what?’ ‘Wanna test it?’ He said with a grin, picking you up bridal style. ‘I’m not scared of you.’ You teased, as he carefully placed you on your shared bed, before climbing on top; his freshly dyed hair tickling your face. ‘Oh baby you shouldn’t be. But you had your fun, it’s my turn.’’

🛁🛁🛁

i saw the new leaks so i had to.

🖤

[nekoannie-chan]

Don’t leave me

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Mutant!Reader.

Word count: 921 words.

Summary: You’ve never believed that Steve would leave you at one of the most important moments of your lives.

Warnings: Sad.

A/N: This is my entry to @lucywrites02’s Lu Creative Time Challenge with the song #21:

“1121-Halsey.”

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

My other media where I publish: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou  @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke  @real-fbi @smokeandnailz  @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae  @harrysthiccthighss @marvelatthisone​ @hallecarey1​ @caplanbuckybarnes

"Well, I won't die for love," was what you thought. Maybe you should go for your stuff and go. You wouldn't tell anyone; you would just disappear. "I'll leave if you let me..." but he didn't have to find out. You didn't even know if he would tell you or just act.

First, you looked around the room, then you walked around the place. You couldn't stop thinking. You also didn't know what to say to Steve. It seemed that he had made a decision and did not include you. He still didn't dare tell you anything. However, you found out from accidentally hearing a conversation between Steve and Bucky.

You didn't know what to do or how to act before he came. Your whole relationship with him has probably been an illusion, a lie.

A couple of days later, you finally thought you should talk about what was going on. As soon as he entered the bedroom, you sat on the bed.

"Steve, we have to talk," you said. He was startled. He thought you were asleep.

"What's wrong?"

"Steve... Please tell me what's going on. Don't lie... Please, don't leave, please—you pleaded, you never planned what you would say to him.

I'm running out of time to tell you...

"Tell me what?"

Silence, you didn't get any response from Steve. It was as if you were talking to nothing. It even seemed that he was ignoring you. Steve didn't dare to say a single word; he just got up and left. "And if truth be told, it's scary, 'cause my shoulders are heavy already," you thought. So, if he didn't tell you anything, you wouldn't either. It would be your little secret. If he didn't mind leaving you and his son, he shouldn't care or be bothered by you disappearing from his life either. You took the baby from the crib, where he slept peacefully, oblivious to all the drama that was going on.

You took your things, you had to leave as soon as possible, no one would know the truth. You didn't care what happened to him or any of the others anymore. Now your priority was someone else. Someone Steve would never know. Then you would think about what you would say to your baby when he asked you about his father.

"You shoot for the memory, so you can forget me." You quickly wrote on a sheet and hid the note in the photo album they had. Those photos have already ceased to have meaning for you.

You didn't know where you'd go, but you'd make sure Steve or anyone else found them. From now on, it will be just you and your son. Steve had destroyed the family they formed, but you weren't going to do anything to fix it.

I'm running out of things that I regret... On your wedding day, you almost ran away. You didn't even know the reasons, but it seemed more impulsive. Maybe you were trying to save yourself from the pain you would feel in the future without knowing it.

Sometimes you had a dream that disturbed you so much that it seemed more like a nightmare in which Steve found them, made you many promises, and convinced you to get back together. And after a few days, he left again.

"Don't leave me in the shape you left me," you pleaded.

When Steve returned from his trip to the past, he did not know how he would explain what happened to you. However, he was very surprised to discover that he was now alone in the house. There was not a single trace of you or your son.

Please don't leave.

Finally, he finally understood the mistake he made. The only thing he wanted now was to get his family back. He didn't know how he would do it, but he wanted them back. In the following months, he looked for them without success.

2 years later,

 You took the grocery list and turned to see your son, who showed you his beautiful smile.

"Are you ready, champion?" You asked, and he nodded.

You bought everything you needed from the supermarket and a stuffed animal that your son liked. When they arrived at the house, you immediately turned around, feeling a presence behind you. You frowned. You never imagined finding her again, although, of course, you knew the reason why she was there.

"Lorna, it's been a long time."

"Two years exactly. Doesn't your best friend deserve an explanation? "

"I guess you know what Steve did. You can't claim anything from me; you did the same with Marcos. "

"It was a different reason; I wanted a world where Dawn didn't have to run away or hide."

And all I wanted was for my family, as it was long ago, to want my son to grow up with his dad and mom, not that old man Steve became.

"You should have told me what you were planning. I could help you. "

If you want to help me, don't tell anyone where we live. "You said that Steve has no rights, not after what he did."

I won't tell anyone, but we will keep in touch. After what he did, Marcos and I walked away from them. We didn't think his decision was fair. "

At least now everything would be less lonely, and sure enough, both Marcos and Lorna helped them so that Steve would never find them again.

[edwardskhakipants]

Forks, Washington. August 2004.

Esme and Carlisle stood in the middle of their grand living room, waiting for their five vampire children to arrive. Alice arrived first—prompt as usual. She settled herself gracefully onto the tufted sofa Esme had recently acquired, only to be immediately jostled by Emmett who heaved himself onto the cushions. A breath caught in Esme’s throat—she had lost many pieces from her beloved collection by that action—but it looked like this one was still in one piece. For the moment. Jasper took Edward’s normal spot in the only armchair, forcing Edward to wedge himself between Alice and Emmett.

“What?” Rosalie grumbled as she perched on the armrest of the couch beside Emmett, “Are we having another one of those How to Respect the Telepath in Your Life meetings again?”

“No,” Edward answered, fully aware of the intent of this meeting since it hatched in Carlisle's mind two days prior. “But there’s never a bad time to bring that up. Christ, Emmett, if you’re going to have a song stuck in your head for over seventy-two hours, the least you can do is learn the correct lyrics.”

Emmett’s eyebrows knit together, asking his brother a silent question.

“It’s ‘mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,’” Edward answered.

Emmett’s brow furrowed doubtfully.

“No.” Edward shook his head, answering Emmett’s thoughts. “Why would he eat a beetle?”

Emmett grinned playfully and tilted his head towards Edward.

Edward wasn’t amused. “You know what it means.”

A silly grin plastered on his face, Emmett elbowed Edward in the ribs, silently egging him on.  

Edward’s eyes darted to Carlisle, then Esme, and he shifted in his seat. “Sexual desire,” he muttered.  

Emmett howled with laughter and clapped his hands once, “Wow, Eddie! You’re just going to say that in front of Esme!?” Edward scowled as Emmett’s bouts of laughter echoed through the room.

Esme ran a hand through her youngest’s ginger hair. “Boys,” she warned, and Emmett sucked in his laughter.

“Our meeting today has to do with all of you,” Carlisle began.

“We simply wanted to go over the rules of attending school with you kids before you start your second year at Forks High School,” Esme explained, unfolding and re-folding her hands in front of her. “There are already whispers, and we don’t want those whispers to turn into rumors.”

“I thought the only whispers about us at school were whether or not Edward liked girls,” Rosalie said, earning an eye-roll from Edward.

“No,” Alice chirped,” Some kids think we’re a cult.”

Jasper leaned back heavily in his chair. “We haven’t heard that one since the Seventies.”

“Kids are getting more creative these days.” Emmett nodded appreciatively.

Esme held up one, delicate finger. “Which is why it is best to take preventative action.”

Carlisle took the floor. “We thought a few reminders would be helpful before you started your first day of your second year,” Carlisle said. “We don’t want another incident like the one we had at the end of last year.”

Every head in the room turned towards Emmett.

“What?” Emmett threw up his hands in exasperation, “The water gun fight was the senior prank—I wasn’t the one who brought them to the school. Hell, I wasn’t even the only student who got suspended!”

“That’s true,” Carlisle agreed, “but you were the only student to shout, ‘Sit down, kids! Daddy’s gotta tinkle,’ and shoot the stream of the gun from your crotch.”

Jasper snickered—the sound was immediately silenced by a single raised eyebrow from Esme.

“I still don’t see the problem,” Emmett continued, “That’s not necessarily a vampire thing.”

Edward—who often mistook himself as the third vampire parent rather than the youngest son—sighed, “Yes, but it brings unnecessary attention to the family. Which is the first rule: do not bring attention to yourself.”

Esme ran her fingers through her son’s hair once more, “Yes, darling, you are especially good at keeping to yourself.” Edward’s eyes widened, despite Esme’s gentle touch, already aware of where her point was headed. “So much so, that I have been given the names of several child therapists to help my son through his depression. One was recommended for his exceptional work on spotting and treating the early signs of sociopathic behavior.”

Esme grabbed her son’s chin and forced him to look at her. “You have to talk to other people.”

Knocked off his high horse, Edward flinched back from Esme’s hand. “Friendship with humans never bodes well for us.”

“We’re not asking you to create lifelong friendships with humans,” Carlisle clarified, “We are simply asking you to be likable.”

“A nearly impossible feat for Edward.” Rosalie grinned. The comment went unnoticed, save Edward’s slight flinch. But the quick, little tick was satisfying enough for Rose.

“Look at your father,” Esme gestured towards Carlisle, “At every hospital he works at, he goes out of his way to ensure he is well-liked among his colleagues. He forces down countless lunches and coffees, solely to make sure they’re comfortable around him.”

Carlisle took over. “And your mother, a beloved member of her gardening club and a prized member of the PTA.”

“And neither of us have rumors started about us, and do you know why?”

All five teenagers grumbled the ingrained response. “Humans don’t want to spread rumors about people they like.”

“Exactly.” Esme nodded.

“I try!” Alice whined, “But Edward never lets me talk to any humans.”

“That’s because every, single thing that is about to come out of your mouth is incriminating. You might as well walk around with a neon sign that says, ‘I’m a psychic vampire’.”

Alice scoffed, “Is not!”

“You wanted to tell Nihal Howard not to audition for the musical.”

“And he broke his leg on opening night,” Alice challenged.  

“You were going to tell Christiana Ward that pink was not her color.”

“And she lost prom queen to Ashley Kirby.”

Jasper put a comforting hand on his wife’s knee. “Maybe try not to meddle so much, darlin’. Natural relationships, first.”

“They would have been!” Alice wailed, “I would have played it cool and casual and made friends and you all would have seen it! But everyone’s hurt and I have no friends at all because Edward won’t let me try!”

Edward rolled his eyes.

Carlisle suppressed a heavy sigh. “You have to let your sister try, Edward.”

Edward’s mouth fell open. “You cannot seriously be siding with her on this!”

But Carlisle stood his ground. He and Edward stared at one another for a few seconds, engaged in a silent conversation. In the end, Carlisle tilted his chin and Edward slumped back. Victorious, Alice used both pointer fingers to jab Edward in the side several dozen times at vampire speed.

Rosalie flipped her golden locks over her shoulder. “I don’t know how you all struggle so much. I have no issues with becoming well-liked at school while remaining inconspicuous.”

“Oh yeah, you’re so inconspicuous,” Edward grumbled, now extra-petty that he had been called out two times in one meeting. “You dress like you're on your way to brunch at your second husband’s country club in Beverly Hills and you make out with your foster brother. The perfect picture of discretion in Forks High School.”

“At least I don’t dress like a sad, old man.” Rosalie grimaced, disappointed in her comeback. The light, humorous insults that were required in family situations were Emmett’s forte; Rosalie’s insults were meant to emotionally cripple a person.

Edward sat up in his seat on the couch and turned to face Rosalie. “I think you missed the main takeaway in that you make out with your foster brother.” Edward turned back. “I can read your minds, and I still don’t understand what made either of you think it was okay to bring your relationship to school?!”

Emmett smiled, unperturbed. “It’s hot.”

“It’s disturbing,” Edward disagreed.

Esme frowned, “You kids don’t really do that, do you?”

“Would it help if Jasper and I became an official couple too?” Alice suggested.     Jasper perked up at the idea of being able to hold hands with Alice in public again.

“No!” Edward yelled at the same time Emmett and Rosalie muttered their acquiesce.

“It wouldn’t seem as weird if there were two couples,” Emmett agreed.

Edward dug his fingers through his hair. “Oh my god!”

“...maybe not, kids,” Esme intervened, but was ultimately ignored.

“So should we come out today like it happened over the summer, or make a little show out of it?” Alice asked Rosalie.

Rosalie waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s way more fun if you play up the theatrics.”

“A little more realistic, too,” Emmett agreed.

Alice looked to Jasper for his opinion. “It might be better if we were discreet about it,” she said. “Like we knew it was wrong, but we wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of our love.”

Jasper scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “Or we could let it be quiet and drawn out. Let others see our mutual pining, and root for us to be together.”

Gazing deep into the golden eyes of her soulmate, Alice sighed, “I love that.”

“If people wanted us to get together, it would normalize Emmett and Rosalie’s relationship.”

“Or Rosalie and Emmett could stop,” Edward suggested, bitterly. “That would be normal, too.”

“Oh, Edward,” Alice patted his shoulder, “You’ll find love someday, too.”

“That is not at all what bothers me about the situation.”

Carlisle made the decision for everyone. “Rosalie and Emmett, break up at school. Alice and Jasper, remain friends and siblings.”

Disappointment filtered into the room through Jasper.  

“I heard that,” Edward grumbled at someone’s thoughts.

“You were supposed to,” Rosalie shot back.

“We are also initiating a new rule,” Esme brought the room back to the conversation at hand, “No more correcting your teachers.”

A chorus of complaints rang from the couch.

Esme clicked her tongue, “I’m tired of defending you all from entirely preventable issues. I have emails from curious teachers wondering why my foster daughter is taking French 101, when she already appears to be fluent.” Esme looked at Rosalie, who immediately tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Or why my son, at the tender age of sixteen, could not only deadlift three hundred pounds in his first weightlifting class, but also give his coach tips on improving his posture.”

Emmett glanced over at Edward before he realized Esme was, in fact, addressing him. “What!?”

Jasper snorted. The sound was a mistake, for it brought Esme’s wrath onto him. “And not to mention the emails from not one, not two, but three teachers warning me that my foster son has an intimate understanding of the mechanics of a point fifty-eight caliber rifle-musket.” Esme held out her hands, almost pleadingly, “How does that subject keep coming up, Jasper?”

A noncommittal grunt was the only answer Jasper had for that question.

“No more,” she commanded. “You can get good grades but keep your extra knowledge on any subject to yourself. Whatever your teacher teaches is all you know. Understand?”

“But what if we—” Edward started.

“Understand?” Esme repeated.

The five teenage vampires understood, even if they didn’t want to. 

“I believe that all five of you will graduate from Forks High School!” Esme cheered.

The kids stared back, unable to muster the zeal Esme had over the prospect.

“Meeting adjourned!” Carlisle announced, and faster than fast vampire speed, the kids bolted from their seats. 

Esme was able to get in a few more reminders as her children flitted around the house and filed out to the silver Volvo.  “Remember to buy lunch with cash and not your credit cards. Emmett, please do not joke about being mauled by a bear. Do not address your teachers by their first names—I don’t care if you’re older than they are, Edward. Alice, please wear something a bit more causal, pet.”

When the house was finally empty, Carlisle pulled Esme backwards into his chest and began massaging her temples. The gesture wasn’t needed, but any touch from her husband was always welcome.

“Do you think they’ll listen?” she asked her husband.

“Not a chance.”

[lostlambs-ifgame]

The Semi-Important Announcement

Hi everyone long time no see! I thought it’d been only two weeks but then I blinked and it was almost two months. Did not mean for that to happen. But I’m back (for now until life gets in the way again) and with a semi, somewhat, sort of  important announcement.

I’ve decided to “revamp” the setting of Lost Lambs! This probably isn’t too surprising if you’ve seen my other posts where I’m whining about history being history lol. So, I’ll be changing the setting from the real world to a realistic fictional world. Nothing too crazy or drastic. Just something that would save me a lot of unnecessary stress and a lot of time.  Long story short/tldr - what would this actually change?

Almost nothing! Other than a little worldbuilding and edits to the current demo, the overall plot wouldn’t change at all. The setting would just go from actual Gilded Age/Edwardian era to a world inspired by said eras instead (which is basically what it already was but this time with more creative freedom.)

Under the cut is some more rambling and an explanation behind this decision if anyone is curious.

Lost Lambs was never supposed to be super historically accurate and I’ve said that before so no one expects it but it’s been bothering me more than I expected. The more I write the more it bothers me and then the less I actually want to write. It got to the point where I’d write dialogue and every five seconds I’d stop to ask myself: “Oh no, is this accurate? Is this too out place?” Then I’d go down a rabbit hole of research and all my excitement would be drained by the end because I’d overwhelm myself. I’m sure a better, more experienced writer could’ve handled this but as an amateur who is doing this for fun, it was sapping away exactly that – the fun.

I tried to stick it out, but if it’s getting in the way of actually finishing anything - I’d rather make a world of my own where I can have as much fun with the setting as I want. The new setting won’t be anything too out there. It’ll still be inspired by the American East Coast but any references to real world locations will be scrapped. This is going to be Jaymee’s Earth: Jarth (this is a placeholder joke name).

I’ll have the updated demo ready and posted in October plus the beginning part of Chapter Two! I wanted to post Ch 2 in its entirety because I feel bad that it’s been a whole year since Ch 1 dropped. But since I have to rewrite almost all the dialogue I don’t think it’ll be completely finished until the end of the year 😅Again, thank you all for reading and sticking with me! I say this all the time but I really appreciate each and every like/ask/comment and all the quiet, subtle support. It means the world to me as someone who has always wanted to share my writing but has never had the opportunity to do so. Much love and thank yous!! 🖤🖤🖤

(also a special thank you to @hpowellsmith who was kind enough to answer my random question about settings!)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Words, Words, Words

Prompt: Hey, prompt idea! I would love some roman angst where after POF he stops talking and the other assume that he's mad at them when in reality he is unable to speak. As a selective mute myself, I would love to read a fic like this! - anon

it's been a while since I've posted fresh Roman angst and WOW did this jump out at me and go hey do you wanna project really really hard onto a character? 

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Roman is nonverbal for a lot of this story and some of the things he does when he’s upset by that are self-destructive, nothing explicit

Pairings: the found family kick aint stopping

Word Count: 4128

He didn’t do it on purpose. He swears, he—he didn’t do it on purpose.

  He just couldn’t talk.

It—it hurt, of…of course, it hurt to—to see the fallout of his bad decision explode with such…disastrous consequences. It hurt to see Patton so upset and confused because everyone was expecting him to have answers that he didn’t and—and Roman will take the blame for that, that’s his fault. And it hurt to see Logan so upset even when he was just there in his lowdowns and he—he didn’t have to be so cruel to Logan, that’s his fault too. And it—

  …it hurt to see that he really is just as awful as Remus, even if J—

  No. It doesn’t matter.

  Roman messed up. Really, really bad. And he’ll take the blame for that, he will, he—he knows he hasn’t been the best at accepting the blame in the past, but…he’ll take this one.

  But he didn’t do this on purpose.

  Roman doesn’t know whether it’s because he’s Creativity, or whether he’s the Ego, or what, but sometimes he just…can’t speak. Sometimes his words machine will just…stop working and he won’t be able to speak. He can normally still write or text, and he can understand when others talk, he just can’t say anything.

  The others don’t know, at least he’s never told them. He doesn’t want to be a bother—or have them start to make fun of him when he can’t defend himself—so he normally makes his writing days the ones where he can’t speak out loud. It’s a good way to make sure no one’s worried about why he’s shut up in his room all day or why he’s not speaking much at dinner. Plus, what kind of a prince would he be if he couldn’t talk?

  Don’t worry, he knows he’s not a prince.

  But the others like Prince Roman. Or rather, they like the narrative function that Prince Roman fulfills. So he does his best to make sure they…get that.

  But he didn’t mean for it to happen, not like this.

  He…he knows he messed up after the wedding. He sunk out and made it to his room and fell to his knees, hurt from everything and then some. The bruises hadn’t shown through his costume or gotten too far down his sleeves, but he—he still felt them. He tried to get up and make it to the shower to just wash off the day—the week—the month but getting his arms up to peel away the costume left him panting and he just wanted to curl up and sleep until everything stopped hurting.

  He managed to get himself into the shower and felt his tongue become lead in his mouth.

  He cleared his throat to try and make a noise but all that escaped was a soft rush of air.

  It…hurt.

  It wasn’t gone by morning. Most of the time he can sleep it off or—or if he just gives it some time he’ll—he’ll be fine but it wasn’t gone. His tongue lay there, useless, and he couldn’t say a word.

  That was okay, though, he could—he could make this a writing day. He wouldn’t dare touch anything he wanted to make for Thomas, his hands would shake too much and he—he doesn’t know what Thomas wants anymore so he wouldn’t get it right even if he could try.

  No, no, he could…he could write things for him today.

  Not as a reward for his atrocious behavior, not anything that would be read by anyone else or be useful in any way, but just to…to get some of the worst bits of him out so he wasn’t absolutely abominable when the others wanted him again. Yes, today he could…write.

  ‘Writing,’ what an interesting word for being willing to sit and bleed for others to see.

  Roman’s words don’t so much as pour out of him as much as he sets his fingers on his keys and then can’t control his typing. He just—it hurt and he knows that no one else would want to hear about his hurt so he pours them out into the blank spaces in the white page and tries to imagine that maybe, maybe, someone would read them and see how badly it hurt and pull him close and tell him that everything would be okay.

  If maybe, if he wrote a story good enough, if he made it hurt enough, someone would care.

  He sits there and pours into the blank document until it’s panting and weary from the torrent of words, until his hands ache and the tips of his fingers are worn warm and raw from the click-click-click of the keys. Until the hurt he feels gathers up into a small, dark well just under his tongue, right in the bottom of his jaw, itching and screaming to get out. It leaks out down his arms, making the inside of his wrists tingle as he types.

  No one will read this, no one will see it. These words won’t see the light of day anytime soon.

  And Roman’s tongue is still made of lead.

  He takes his words and lets them tumble clumsily out of his hands, trying in vain to scoop them up and shove them out of his mouth instead but his tongue won’t cooperate. He knows he can’t talk, that he can’t force it, that trying to make it happen will only lead to more pain.

  But he wants to try.

  When his words aren’t back by the next day, he swallows what’s left of his pride, which isn’t much, and goes out to face the others.

  He finds Patton first. Patton doesn’t acknowledge him, so he sits politely down on the couch with a notebook and waits, trying to see if his words will come out through the pen instead of his tongue. But Patton doesn’t talk to him unless he’s asking if Roman wants a drink and well, Roman doesn’t—doesn’t need words for that.

  Patton looks so disappointed in him.

  He wants to try. He wants to open his mouth and tell Patton he’s sorry. Sorry for everything. He wants to. He wants to.

  He opens his mouth and his tongue deflates, useless, just enough for him to sigh and hunch his shoulders in defeat.

  He doesn’t want to disappoint Patton, he wasn’t trying to disappoint Patton, he wants to apologize and be better, but he can’t.

  Perhaps that is the true disappointment.

  Logan is next to appear because Logan is Logan and Roman loves him and Logan always gets his cup of coffee in the morning before breakfast. He walks down the stairs and also does not look at Roman which is fine because that is what Roman deserves but he wants to try.

  He opens his mouth to call out to Logan or Patton but his tongue is so heavy and he can’t. He can’t speak. He should be able to speak, he should be able to say something to Logan, he should be able to tell him how sorry he is but he can’t and he’s useless.

  His pen stands frozen on the notebook pages, leaving a big, dark, useless well of ink.

  Logan sits down on the couch with a book and his coffee. He doesn’t look up at Roman. Roman stares at him, pleading, hoping that Logan will look up and meet his gaze, and maybe, just maybe, he can see how sorry Roman is and it will—something will be better.

  “Don’t stare at me, Roman, it’s rude.”

  Roman’s cheeks burn as he looks away. Logan didn’t move his eyes from the book once.

  He picks up the pen and watches it drip onto the page. The pages are wet, now, so much so that when he tries to pull them apart they stick together, the lines threatening to tear as he tries to separate them.

  He leaves them be.

  The next few hours are spent in a loop of trying to open his mouth to say something and only a soft rush of air escaping. He tries to hold it behind his hand and say please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so awful, I’ll be better, I promise, but the words won’t come. His tongue is taunting him, he decides, by pressing insistently up against the back of his teeth until he has to open his mouth only for it to refuse to produce words.

  He wants Logan to explain to him that talking works for him too. That the vocal chords and the muscles of the throat moving together build up pressure behind the larynx, which then chops up the stream of air to produce a steady oscillation for a sustained sound. He wants Logan to say it in that voice of his that makes it so everything makes sense so of course, Roman, you can speak, it’s okay. Everything is okay.

  But Logan would never say that, not to Roman, because Roman’s words aren’t worth Logan’s time.

  When Virgil comes downstairs, he tries. He really tries. He opens his mouth and everything and takes a deep breath and—

  Virgil marches straight over to Logan and sits down, his head on Logan’s shoulder and the two of them could not be paying any less attention to Roman.

  The wind gets knocked out of him. His mouth falters closed. He tries to open it away but his jaws are stiff and gummy, his teeth aching in his mouth as he tries to just talk. He just wants to say something, he just wants to apologize, he just waits to be sorry and have them all know he’s sorry, he’s so sorry, but they won’t know because he doesn’t have words.

  The words he wants to say are queuing up at the back of his throat, weighing his mouth down and he wants to say them, but he—he—he can’t. He wants to tell Virgil that he’s sorry he’s been the worst friend ever, that he’s sorry he’s so awful to their famILY, that he’ll go away and leave them all alone if that’s what they want but he can’t say a damn word of it out loud and he’s going to cry.

  But he can’t because crying isn’t words and the only thing the others want from him is words.

  If Virgil notices him trying, which he probably doesn’t, he’s kind enough not to say anything.

  Roman is terrified when Remus comes.

  Because Remus is loud and loves nothing more than to make Roman’s life harder. If Remus knew he was nonverbal right now, his best bet would be to leave as quickly as possible because he—

  Wait, no.

  If Roman wanted it to be best for him, he would leave as fast as possible. But Roman doesn’t know anything anymore so he doesn’t move.

  Remus, as it turns out, doesn’t care about Roman—which, why would he?—and instead flops proudly onto the floor and begins to talk animatedly with Logan about something.

  Roman wants to say sorry. Sorry that he’s never done anything right when it comes to Remus, sorry that he thinks being compared to him is the worst thing possible, sorry that he’s Roman and Remus is stuck with him.

  But his tongue is lifeless.

  So he is quiet, flipping aimlessly through his notebook, looking for something to give his words back.

  Was he selfish yesterday? Did he use all of them up on something no one would ever see? No, no, that’s not how it works, he just—he knows he should be able to talk, maybe if he just waits a little longer, his words will come back.

  But then Janus appears.

  And Roman needs to be able to talk now.

  Because he needs to tell Janus that he’s sorry. That he messed everything up and he’s awful and he knows it and he’s so, so, so sorry. And he needs to know that it isn’t a lie, that Roman is genuinely sorry and he just needs to speak, if he could just open his mouth and say something and say that he’s sorry and—and—

  Janus stops and looks right at him.

  Roman’s breath catches in his throat.

  Janus’s eyes narrow.

  Please, please, I’m sorry, let me say I’m sorry, I can’t speak, I want to speak, let me speak—

  Janus’s face cools into stone and he deliberately turns away.

  Roman wants to scream.

  He scrambles away from the living room and his hands fly to his hair, squeezing, pulling, trying to rip the sound from his throat because it won’t come otherwise. Trying to reach deep inside and find something, some word, some sound, some thing just to make it so he can talk, say he’s sorry, say anything.

  The computer screen blinks mockingly at him. Come on, it taunts, where was this agony when you were pouring your words out onto me yesterday? Why do you ache so badly now when you know you can’t do anything about it? Is it worth it?

  Nothing will ever be worth this. To have them there, right in front of him, and not be able to tell them how sorry he is.

  A silent scream is the best he can do.

  It doesn’t stop. His tongue doesn’t flicker back to life. Even after two days, three days, four, he still can’t manage to speak. He can’t manage to open his mouth and make a single word come out. He tries. He sits down in front of the computer and glares at the screen, forcing his mouth to make the shapes and forcing his vocal chords to make the sounds.

  He never gets further than a single word.

  He rushes, slurs, cheats in any way he can, and doesn’t even manage to get to the end of a sentence.

  He’s panting, in tears, trying, trying, trying so hard to say something, anything, because if he can say one thing, he can say more, and if he can say more, he can tell them how sorry he is.

  Roman would gladly give up all the words he doesn’t have to be able to say ‘sorry’ again.

  (Logan, downstairs, glances up from his book.

  Virgil is sprawled next to him on the couch, his head resting against Logan’s thigh. Patton is sitting on the other end, Virgil’s legs in his lap as he talks to Janus. Janus sits in the chair, his own book forgotten on his lap. Well, almost forgotten as he tugs it out of Remus’s grasp as he makes…something on the floor.

  “It’s been quiet recently,” he remarks to himself, “almost…peaceful.”

  Virgil shifts. “Yeah, I know. I kinda like it.”

  “So do I.” He glances down and, after a moment of hesitation, slides his hand into Virgil’s hair. “Is this alright?”

  “Yeah, L, that’s fine.”

  “Aww, you two are cute.” Patton grins at them. “It’s been nice lately, hasn’t it?”

  “Mm.” Janus tugs the book out of Remus’s reach again. “Remus, I certainly understand what you want with my book.”

  “Art, Janny.”

  Janus rolls his eyes fondly but his gaze softens as he takes in the room. It has been quiet. A good kind of quiet.

  He doesn’t know it didn’t happen on purpose.

  That Roman isn’t being quiet on purpose.

  He didn’t do it on purpose.

  Because when has anything Roman’s done on purpose been right?)

——————————————

Thomas sighs, his hands on his hips, as Patton and Logan begin to bicker for the third time in the past ten minutes. Across from him, Virgil is fidgeting uncomfortably as his gaze flicks back and forth between Janus and Thomas.

  “Guys, are you really not going to do anything about this?”

  “Oh, yes, because that’s how we solve every problem, just make me deal with it.”

  “Okay, first of all, I said you guys meaning you and Thomas, second—“

  “Oh, here we go, another lecture, oh goodie.”

  “That is not what I’m doing—“

  And now Virgil and Janus are fighting too. Thomas resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. Barely. Just barely. He shakes his head. The Sides aren’t normally this hard to manage, typically it’s just a matter of everyone actually understanding what’s going on and then one of them will propose a solution and they’ll all wrangle it around from angle to angle until he finally gets a workable one.

  Not this time.

  He’s not sure why nothing’s working, but everything that’s been proposed just sounds like another problem, not a solution. Why coming up with ideas is so hard today, he doesn’t—

  Wait.

  Has…has Roman said anything today?

  Thomas glances at Roman. Roman stands where he always does, watching the others with a strangely blank look on his face. Thomas frowns. Roman…Roman doesn’t look great. He looks paler than usual, his face is a little poofy.

  “Roman?”

  Roman looks at him, his brow quirked.

  “Do you…have any ideas?”

  Roman’s face falls and he swallows. Thomas’s frown deepens when Roman shakes his head sadly.

  “Hey, wait,” Virgil says, turning to face him, “Thomas is right. You haven’t said anything all meeting.”

  “You have been remarkably quiet. Especially for you.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “Have you not come up with a single idea?”

  “Okay, guys, wait—“ Thomas tries.

  “No wonder we aren’t making any progress,” Virgil cries, throwing up his hands, “it’s because the guy whose job it is to come up with ideas isn’t doing anything!”

  “That…would explain it.”

  “Come on, kiddo,” Patton says, looking at Roman, “you must have something.”

  Roman just shakes his head again.

  “Of course he doesn’t want to share it with us,” Virgil growls, “he’s probably waiting for us to figure it out for him because he’s still mad.”

  Patton sighs, shaking his head and putting his hands on his hips. Even Thomas wants to flush from the disappointment in his voice. “I understand being mad at us, kiddo—I’m not happy about it, but I understand it—but taking it out on Thomas? That’s really selfish of you.”

  Roman flinches, his hand going to his chest. Janus rolls his eyes.

  “Oh, Roman doesn’t know what that word means, remember? He’s all about selflessness, not selfishness, no, not a single selfish bone in his body, Roman.”

  Virgil snorts.

  “I am also disappointed,” Logan sighs, “but not surprised. But seriously, Roman, I think this temper tantrum of yours has gone on long enough.”

  “Watch out, he’s gonna say it’s not a temper tantrum.”

  Is…is this how they are to Roman all the time? Thomas stares at the other Sides in confusion. Has he just never noticed how mean they are to each other before? Or is this…new? He looks back at Roman and opens his mouth to say something when he notices Roman’s hand is still on his chest.

  And…moving.

  His thumb is tucked against the top of his fist and Thomas watches as it circles once, twice, and stops. Once, twice, and stops.

  “Roman,” he says softly, cutting through the growing voices of the others, “Roman, why are you sorry?”

  “What?”

  “Thomas, what’re you—“

  “That—this—“ Thomas makes the sign himself—“that’s the ASL for ‘sorry.’ Remember?”

  Logan looks back at Roman who does it again. “So it is. But—Roman, why are you communicating using ASL, which none of us are fluent in? Most of us aren’t fluent in, my apologies, Janus—“ Janus waves him off— “why not just say that you’re sorry?”

  “Roman,” Thomas asks, still quiet, “can you speak?”

  They all watch in silence as Roman slowly shakes his head.

  “What do you mean you can’t speak?”

  “Probably just that, Virgil.” Logan adjusts his glasses.

  Thomas spares him a glance before refocusing on Roman. “Are you okay, buddy?”

  Roman looks at the ground. Virgil watches him for a moment before leaning to Logan.

  “I’m gonna guess that’s a ‘no.’”

  “How long has this been happening?”

  “Yes or no questions, guys,” Thomas reminds, “and…not too many.”

  “Right.” Logan takes a breath and when he speaks again, Thomas furrows his brow at how much softer Logan sounds. “Roman, has this been happening since the beginning of the meeting?”

  Roman nods.

  “Has it been happening for longer?”

  Another nod.

  “How long,” Virgil asks warily, only for Logan to hiss ‘yes or no’ in his ear, “right, um…has it been happening for longer than a day?”

  Roman nods, studiously avoiding eye contact. Janus bites back a curse.

  “Roman, have you not been able to speak since the wedding?”

  When Roman nods again, Thomas has to bite back a curse of his own. Virgil doesn’t.

  “Fuck, Princey, why didn’t you tell one of us?”

  “With what words,” Janus spits, “and who’s to say we would’ve believed him?”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Patton murmurs, reaching for him, “I’m so sorry.”

  At this, Roman shakes his head furiously.

  “Hey, hey, easy, Princey, it’s okay, what was that for?”

  “He seemed to really dislike the idea of Patton apologizing…”

  “What were you apologizing for, Roman,” Thomas asks instead, “before we—before?”

  Roman nods.

  “Yeah, bud, you were apologizing, do you remember what for?”

  A nod.

  “He’s saying ‘yes,’” Virgil murmurs.

  “Yeah, we got that.”

  “No, I mean—“ Virgil sighs— “you asked him what he was apologizing for and he’s saying ‘yes.’ That means anything you could ask him if he’s apologizing for, he’d say yes.”

  “So…” Logan looks back and forth between them. “He’s apologizing for…everything?”

  “Yeah.”

  And Roman nods.

“Oh, sweetie,” Janus says softly and whoa, that’s…unexpected, “you don’t need to do that.”

  Roman’s mouth hardens stubbornly as if to say yes I do.

  “You can’t be blamed for not being able to speak, Roman,” Logan says gently, “it’s not your fault.”

  “Kiddo,” Patton calls when Roman still looks unsure, “are you mad at us?”

  Roman’s head snaps up and he shakes his head frantically. Patton holds out his arms to soothe him.

  “And we’re not mad at you, sweetheart, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Let’s call it here,” Thomas says, giving Roman a nod, “we can figure this out later.”

  “What do you need, Roman,” Virgil asks, “how can we help?”

  “That’s…definitely not a yes or no question.”

  Thomas frowns. Then he reaches out a hand.

  “Hey!” Remus pops up, manic grin and all. “What’s shakin’, bacon?”

  “I do not think bacon shakes, Remus.”

  “Sir Francis Bacon?”

  “What?”

  “You two gotta stop watching Phineas and Ferb,” Virgil mutters.

  Remus just grins and turns, freezing when he sees Roman. Thomas blinks and Remus’s entire demeanor changes.

  “Ro-Bro? Roro, you okay?”

  Roman looks up at him. Remus lays a hand on his shoulder.

  “You nonverbal?”

  Roman nods. Remus wraps his arms around Roman’s waist.

  “I’m taking this,” he announces, “bye!”

  Thomas chuckles as Remus sinks out, Roman in tow, even as Patton and Virgil rush after them going ‘let us help!’ Logan just rolls his eyes fondly and follows them. Thomas catches hold of Janus’s cloak before he can leave too.

  “Are you guys always like that to Roman?”

  Janus gives him a strange look. “You mean are you always like that to Roman?”

  “What?”

  “We’re you, Thomas,” Janus says bluntly, “we’re the physical manifestation of what goes on in your head. Or have you forgotten that your main way of problem-solving is to summon metaphysical color-coded versions of yourself and talk to them?”

  “Your point?”

  “The way we act is how you see us. We behave how our respective parts of you behave.” Janus gives him a look. “If you think we’re being mean to Roman, what does that say about how you feel about your Ego or your Creativity?”

  Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

  “Take better care of yourself,” Janus says, softer now, “and it might surprise you.”

  “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

  “I think,” Janus says, looking far too smug as he pulls away, “you mean that you can’t help yourself.”

  Thomas scoffs as Janus disappears but after a few seconds, his words start to make sense. He turns to grab his laptop and opens it, finding a blank document and watching the cursor blink.

  The others might not be able to listen to Roman, but he always can.

  “Alright,” he mutters to himself, “let’s see what Roman’s got to say.”

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[mochi-marie]

Hi! I saw that your request are open, If you don't mind could I request some headcanons for Tsukishima, Sakusa, Iwaizumi and Semi of how they act when they are jealous? ♡

˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 + 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 ˎˊ˗

author’s note :: hi hi!! this is my first time ever actually writing for semi and for sakusa, so i hope it's not too ooc / awful? any feedback and advice for writing characters is greatly appreciated! also, realizing it now, i realize my gremlin brain interpreted it differently and im kinda mad at myself for what i wrote 🤡 ( re: i actually hate it now pff ) 🥺👉👈 hope you enjoy?

perspective :: gender neutral

characters :: tsukishima kei, sakusa kiyoomi, iwaizumi hajime, semi eita

⊰ 𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗔 𝗞𝗘𝗜 ⊱ 

♡ … will act unbothered! most likely won't be bothered at first, or at least it may seem like he isn't. yamaguchi would have a worried look on his face, calling it out to his friend, but he would end up shrugging. tsukishima would most likely be confident in your loyalty, depending on how long you've been together.

♡ … target: locked on! if things start to get a little too touchy, he'll easily insert himself into the situation once they start to get a little too close for comfort.

♡ … intimidation! easily slides his large hand onto your shoulder, hovering over the person testing tsukki's comfort levels of others practically drooling over you. his height and rather stern gaze easily makes a shiver run down their spine.

♡ … embarrassment! if his mere presence wasn't enough to have them backing up, his snide remarks and verbal observations of the person's clear interest in you will be enough to have them huffing with red cheeks and turning away, embarrassed and made a fool out of.

♡ … acts like you were the jealous one! don't tell me that he wouldn't turn this on you. if you're on the teasing side, if you go to try and taunt him for his ( in your opinion ) jealous outburst, before you could even choke out a word, he'd hit you with : "wow, i can't believe you would allow that, (name)." you would be left flabbergasted, confused as only a smirk is painted onto his lips as he turns away. he'll always insist that you get jealous, not him.

⊰ 𝗦𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗦𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗬𝗢𝗢𝗠𝗜 ⊱ 

♡ … (*insert creative notion here*)! most likely will let you handle it unless he sees you grow uncomfortable within the person's flirtatious presence. he knows and trusts in your loyalty, despite the drop he feels in his stomach.

♡ … protection through intimidation! he might cringe visibly if the other person touches you in some way, but heads over ( trying his best not to rush ). the twisted fluttering in his stomach won't leave him alone, so he strides his way over, not touching you, but standing awfully close behind.

♡ … awkward silence ensues! his sharp gaze, paired well with the mysterious threat of wearing a mask and his intimidatingly tall stature and stoic appearance, is more than enough to get the flirt to cough awkwardly into their fist in a show of discomfort at the awkward silence that now draped itself over you three.

♡ … tainted! the moment they're gone, he'll most likely want to be able to comfort you in some way if the encounter really bothered you or made you feel unsafe in some way, but the fact that the flirt touched you irked him. he'll insist you take a shower to, "wash their disgusting germs off".

⊰ 𝗜𝗪𝗔𝗜𝗭𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝗛𝗔𝗝𝗜𝗠𝗘 ⊱ 

♡ … sweet, sweet haji! i think iwaizumi would be quicker to jealousy than others on this list, as well as second to semi at being the worst at hiding it. your sweet haji will observe from afar at first, trying to gauge whether or not you need him to intervene.

♡ … so proud! if you handle it yourself, he'll be beaming with pride for the rest of the day, the only thing managing to pull the smile off of his face being Oikawa and his little remarks on how worried he had looked.

♡ … intervening! if you end up not being able to get them to back off, hajime will have no problem with stopping whatever he is doing just to head over to where you and the other is standing, wrapping his arm around you to rest gently on your hip / waist, staring at the opposing person across from you.

♡ … immediate results! you won't have to worry much now, especially with the way the flirtatious newcomer eyes your lover's arms and body, rethinking their decision to try and flirt with you. quickly, they make a flustered exit, excusing themselves warily.

♡ … caring and calm! the moment you two are left alone, his grip on your waist never falters as he turns to look down to you, gazing over your form swiftly before asking a few questions, awkward grin on his lips and cheeks blushing a rosy pink when met with your small teases and thankful smile.

⊰ 𝗦𝗘𝗠𝗜 𝗘𝗜𝗧𝗔 ⊱ 

♡ … to the rescue! due to his hot-headedness, i personally don't think it would take long for him to both notice, and eventually insert himself into the situation; face cold, eyes sharp in a pointed glare, heart thumping in time with his feet as he jogs over.

♡ … a threat has approached! compared to others, he may not be the most intimidating, but his larger stature and his generally stoic resting face feeds into how scary he can appear. adding on the furious glare paired with a forced smirk on his stony face and he appears rather... threatening.

♡ … bark bark! if he doesn't manage to scare them off without saying anything to begin with, the beating of his heart that pounds in his ear as he practically barks at them to get lost does.

♡ … showing off! the moment you're alone again, semi will most likely drag you both away to spend the rest of the day alone together, enjoying each other's company publicly. he'll make sure to let it be known that you both are very much an item.

© — mochi-marie.tumblr 2021 ⊱ please do not plagerize, repost, reproduce, edit / alter, or claim any works as your own.

[artist-tae]

fate (jungkook x fem!reader)

Summary: You and your tattoo ex Jeon Jungkook have been broken up for the past 2 years. But what happens he enters your life again when you just have gotten over him?

Pairing: jungkook x reader, reader x jimin

Genre: angsty af, tattoo artist Jungkook, eventual smut (?), break up!au

Words: 2.6k 

Chapter 5/6   (1)  (2)  (3)  (4) 

The empty silence of your room was dreadful. Your head was spinning from you overthinking and you could not relax all day. You sat on your bed staring at the wall, deep in thought. Visions of Jungkook filled your mind and you couldn’t get him out of your head. It was almost pathetic at this point. You gazed into space wondering what your options were. It was time for you to move on. 

"_______?"

Jimin’s words snapped you out of your spiralling thoughts. You didn’t even notice him entering the room. He stood next to you at the end of your bed, looking down at you as you sat. You felt guilty even looking at his face. 

"I was wondering if you wanted some food?" he asked with concern. He had just found you in your room, staring at a blank wall, ignoring him calling out for you. 

"Thanks Jimin, but I think I’m alright for now," you responded, trying your best to form a smile. 

Jimin raised his eyebrows at you. He knew when you were tense or had your mind on something. It made it hard to keep anything a secret from him. He could read you like a book at this point.  

"You know you can talk to me if something is bothering you. I don’t want you to suffer alone with your big head full of thoughts. " He joked, reaching his hand up and ruffling your hair. 

You laughed at his actions, pulling his hand away from your head. 

"Don’t worry, everything’s fine. I’m just tired these days", you explained to him. 

Another lie, Jimin thought. He decided he wasn’t going to force it out of you. He was also afraid that he already knew who you were thinking about. 

You watched as Jimin’s mouth turned into a smirk. You shot him a confused look. Suddenly, you felt his two hands rest on your knees. He leaned his frame over you, causing you to lean back. His face was barely inches from yours. His eyes scanned your entire face, entranced by your beauty. 

"How about I make us some dinner tonight?" he whispered, "Just me and you."

Jimin knew how to cook, and his dishes always left your mouth watering for more. You smiled back at him; the idea of a nice home cooked meal was perfect for you. 

"I would love that."

He smiled back at you. You notice his eyes dart to your lips. Suddenly, your body froze at this. Jimin had his eyes shut and he was leaning in. Panic spread throughout your body. Before he could connect his lips with yours, you held his shoulder to keep him in place. Jimin opened his eyes and shot you a questionable look. 

"I think I need some fresh air," was all you could think to say. You cringed at how pathetic your choice of words was.

Jimin, on the other hand, being the gentleman that he was, nodded and stood up straight again, allowing you to finally catch your breath. You immediately stood up, straightened up, and walked over to get your keys and coat. As you were about to walk out of the room, Jimin’s hand grabbed your wrist gently. 

"He’s not worth it, you know." Jimin stated. 

Jimin’s features were now dark and full of pity for you. You were lost for words at how blunt he was. 

"What?"

"That guy, he couldn’t treat you with the love you deserve. If he is destroying you, then it is not love, ______. "

The silence you both stood in was filled with tension. You didn’t dare break it for fear that something would go wrong. You gave a slight nod to Jimin before turning and heading out of the house. 

You jumped in your car and put it in the ignition. You pressed your head against the wheel of the car in frustration. Your head was spinning with stress. Jimin’s words were echoing in your head as you drove away from your house. You knew he was right. Jungkook coming back into your life was doing more harm than good. Jimin was only watching out for you. 

You needed answers.

Before you even realised what you were doing, your car was already pulling into Jungkook’s home. You wasted no time in leaving the car and walking up to the front door. You knew if you sat and overthought the whole situation, you would just turn around and leave. You gave one last sigh and pressed the doorbell to the house. 

It felt like an eternity had passed before you heard the sound of the door unlocking. A dishevelled Jungkook opened the door. His eyes widened seeing you standing at his doorstep so unexpected. You noted Jungkook dressed in gym shorts and a loose tank top, exposing all his tattoos from his arms down to his legs. The silence between you two suggested that Jungkook wasn’t planning on greeting you. 

"Can we talk?"

Jungkook’s face was still emotionless as he processed your words. Finally, he jerked his head, motioning you to come inside, holding the door open for you. You walked past him entering his house. You caught the smell of cigarettes in the air as he directed you to his bedroom. 

Piles of drawings were strewn across his desk and on the floor in his room. Some were crumpled up in or near the trash can. You noticed the ashtray on his desk, from which smoke was rising from a glowing cigarette. You obviously caught him during his creative hours, when he was sketching up new tattoo designs for his clients. Jungkook took a seat at the foot of his bed. You made the decision to continue standing.

“What are you working on?", you asked.

"Just some doddles for work.", was all he replied. He stared down at his feet, not making eye contact with you.

You could easily tell he was uneasy with you being here so suddenly.

"It looks really good. Your drawing skills have improved a lot. "

"Why are you here _____?", his eyes finally shot up to look at you. He had a look of displeasure.

You began to fidget with your fingers. Jungkook knew that you only did this when you were nervous.

"I need to know" you explained, "Why did you kiss me?"

Jungkook let out a cynical scoff. "Why did I kiss you? Isn’t it obvious _____? "

"But I need to know why you did it when you know I am with Jimin."

Jungkook’s arm muscles tensed up at the sound of his name. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair in annoyance.

"Why aren’t you with him then, huh? Why did you come all the way to my house just to ask me about kissing you? ", he hissed at you.

Your nervousness turned to anger. Why does Jungkook think he has the right to be mad at you when this was all his fault?

"Stop avoiding the question." You said harshly, "Tell me why you did it."

Jungkook was now stood up towering over your frame in rage.

"Maybe it’s because I finally got to see you after all these years after you chose to dump me out of nowhere!"   

You were speechless at his words. Jungkook's face morphed from anger into defeat. His shoulders were slouched down, and his eyes were now watering.

"Think about it ______. We were perfect. Everything was going so well. We were going so well. But you had to end things with me to go halfway across the country. I know you did it for school. But did you ever stop to think about how it would affect me? You left me alone. It was like you were never even there. "

Jungkook choked up a sob.

"You were all that I had _____."

The lump in your throat was growing as you saw the tears stream down his face.

"I couldn’t stop thinking about the life we could have had." He said, sniffling.

"You knew how much I loved you, Jungkook." you said, fighting the tears.

Jungkook rubbed his eyes at your words. "Loved" he laughed dryly.

"We were just kids. I had to move on," you explained," And you know you must do the same. It’s not healthy. "

I can’t just move on like you ______ ", he shot back," You are ignoring everything that we had! "

You broke eye contact with him as the tears started to fall down your face. It was no good to talk to him.

He suddenly stepped towards you and faced your body. You could feel his breath on you as he spoke.

"Tell me you don’t love me."

"Jungkook", you pleaded, "Stop."

"Please ______, I’ll leave you alone."

You were now sobbing at his words. You felt his hands touch your shoulders as you tried to calm down.

"Jungkook, you know I am not", you confessed. You shook your head profusely, burying your head in his chest.

"Then let us just be together, ______! Just say I do, and we can go back to normal. It will be like nothing ever happened. I will treat you like a princess, I promise. "

"This is normal now! It’s been so long. I can’t leave Jimin, he has done so much for me. "

Jungkook leaned his face into yours and you felt the breath of his lips near yours.

You quickly grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back.

"No Jungkook, not again." You knew if you kissed him it would make everything a hundred times worse than it already was.

Jungkook was defeated. He now knew his efforts were entirely useless. It was always going to be Jimin. He must have known that all along, right?

Jungkook stepped away from you and the air was suddenly colder than before. Jungkook turned away from you and stared out his window. The room was just filled with the sounds of you and Jungkook sniffling.

"Jungkook please say something to me." You spoke up. 

"I have nothing more to say. Please just go ______. " He continued to stare out the window, not daring to look at you. 

Knifes were digging into your heart at his words. This was how it was finally going to end.

"I leave tomorrow. I won’t be coming back. I will be out of your sight _______. You will never have to see me again. " He explained. 

You were choked up as he spoke, and your head was pounding with pain. You just wanted to hug him and reassure him that everything would be fine. You wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth, so silence filled the gap between you two. You stared at your feet as you walked defeatedly out of his house and into your car.

You drove in silence. But you could not help but look in your rear-view mirror, hoping that just maybe Jungkook would chase after you. But no one was there. You had to pull into a random spot to cry before heading home. You sobbed, hugging your knees to your chest as the realisation hit you. Jungkook was gone forever. He will now be known as a distant memory.

You chose not to tell Jimin about your eventful visit to Jungkook’s house. You knew he wouldn’t approve of it and you didn’t want to spend more time thinking about it. 

Later in the evening, you received a text from Jimin to dress up more formally than usual. The text also informed you that you were banned from the kitchen until Jimin said so. You then remembered the dinner Jimin planned for you and him. 

When you finally got a text stating that the kitchen was now open for dining, you made your way out of your room in your elegant dress. Jimin had lit candles all over the kitchen and your casual kitchen table was decorated with flowers. The light sound of relaxing music aided the ambience. Your jaw dropped at his efforts. He always went above and beyond for these things. 

"Dinner for two?"

You turned around to see Jimin in his fancy black suit, a bottle of wine being held in his hand. A smile plastered your face at his efforts.  

"Let’s eat!" You said thrilled. 

Jimin's meal was delicious. It was a big difference from takeaways and instant noodles. As you two ate, your hands grazed each other’s across the table. You had your plate cleared before you even knew it. Jimin kept the conversation engaging and fun. He knew it would help you take your mind off your problems. The wine was also a big help to you. The alcohol in your system allowed you to relax throughout the night. Jimin’s silly jokes were able to be more funny than they actually were, leaving you laughing at his stupid puns. 

Jimin then began to ramble about ball dancing as you continued to laugh at his humorous tangents. He began to explain to you in detail the elegance of ballroom dancing. 

"It's easy, I’ll show you." He suddenly said, jumping out of his chair. 

Jimin marched over to the stereo and fumbled with it until it reached some classical radio station. The kitchen was filled with a gentle orchestra song. Jimin began to stupidly sway back over to you. Jimin held out his hand to you as an invitation to dance. 

You gladly accepted and placed your hand in his. He immediately pulled you into him and began to lead you in a dance. You could easily smell his cologne as you placed one hand on his shoulder, the other hand still interlocked in his. Your drunken body wasn’t able to keep up with the intricate steps of the dance, but Jimin seemed to have experience of this. The music and being so close to him felt so intimate. 

 He slowly dipped you, still holding you close. The gesture and his face being so close to yours, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He made note of all the perfections in your face as you giggled drunkenly at his actions. 

"I love you _____"

Your giggling was suddenly halted by his words. His eyes stared deeply into your pupils.

"I have never felt this way about anyone before." He stated.

 You felt his hand moving to cup your face. His thumb lightly brushed along your cheek.

"I want to be with you. I am tired of holding it in anymore. "

He used his hand on your waist to pull you closer to him. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest. You beamed up at his face, he was so romantic. Both your eyes travelled down to each other’s lips. Jimin gave you one last glance into your eyes, almost as if he were asking for your permission. You smiled reassuringly at him, wrapping your hands around his neck.

He finally leant in and pressed his lips on you. You kissed him back with such passion. Your hands made their way into his hair, tugging at it slightly. Jimin sighed into the kiss and deepened the kiss. He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted to take all your pain away.

He finally pulled away from you. You caught your breath as he cupped your face with both his hands.

"Let’s leave this place ______. We can go somewhere new where we can be together. Just you and me. "

[parachutingkitten]

Y'all suck at dissecting Kai's character, so I guess I have to do it.

And I'm not even a Kai stan. He's a bottom tier ninja for me, which I guess means you can trust me, cuz I'm not biased, but also why am I the one doing this? I don't know about y'all, but recently on my dash, the method by which Kai fans try to make him sound good is... saying the writers hate him, ignore him, and that he isn't written well? Which... I mean there is a little bit of truth to, but like yikes guys, is this the best you got? Kai is a wonderful character with plenty of attention from the writers, a meaningful piece of the cast when put in secondary rolls, fairly consistent character writing with actual progression and valuable qualities that help the team without having to be the smart one- despite what some posts might tell you.

Let's get one thing cleared up: Ninjago isn't the best written show. By high level Hollywood standards, most the character arcs are kinda weak or too heavy handed, character consistency can be iffy, and most things serve the plot rather than the characters. There is no character you can point to and say "wow, this character is written so well! No complaints!" Nya and Jay were butchered by their weird love plot, Cole's one season doesn't actually give him an arc, Zane's been nothing but the robot numbers guy for like 10 seasons now, and Lloyd seems to be incapable of doing anything but relive the same one piece of dad angst for depth. Sorry, it's true. All the characters suck when you look at it from a large scale writing perspective. So when I say Kai is well written, I mean by ninjago kids show standards- cuz that's the scale we're working on. No, you couldn't drop Kai into a well written drama, but as far as ninjago goes... he's got a lot going for him, and by no means is he the biggest victim of poor writing.

(fair warning, wall of text below)

The title is a bit disingenuous. There are plenty of good Kai character break downs. What I am presenting here is a more positive perspective. On the whole, I will tend to give the writers the benefit of the doubt, and credit for what they do right writing is hard guys. That's what I'm doing here. I don't see much sense in getting mad the writers on behalf of Kai, or any other character. Ninjago is a simplistic ensemble show that works because of the identifiable simplicity of its main characters with some deeper layers hidden underneath if you keep watching. They've given us a damn good show with some damn enjoyable characters, so here are some criticisms I feel are a little flawed:

First, let's get the 'focus' thing out of the way. Apparently there are people saying Kai doesn't have a season yet? Which... what? I mean, I get that the pilots aren't a full season, the first two seasons, though he is the central protagonist, aren't "Kai seasons" as we've come to define ninja focus seasons, season 7, though he gets majority focus, he shares with his sister. But like... did y'all just forget about season 4? You know, the season where he had the title card, was on the box sets, got the love interest, and the majority of the A-plot? not to mention it's the best season don't @ me Like... if season 4 isn't a Kai season, I can make a damn good argument that season 3 isn't a Zane season, and I doubt anyone wants to go down that rabbit hole. I really can't wrap my head around this one. And I get that the fandom hates season 11 for some reason, but like you can't just pretend it doesn't exist. Kai has a consistent arc across 30 episodes in which he takes his powers for granted, loses them, and learns that, not only does he have value within the team without them, but that his element is intrinsically a part of him that he reclaims, bringing them back more powerful than ever, and with new respect for them. That's one of the most solid arcs in the whole series- the location is even thematically connected to his element. That's some good stuff right there! (Quick plug for season 11 if you haven't watched it in a while. Give it a rewatch, you might be pleasantly surprised)

Not to mention the writers give him fun side stuff all the time. Lots of fears of tech and water to overcome, a deep protective streak with Lloyd, becoming a chancellor, having a true potential actually relevant to the plot as a whole, blacksmith responsibilities, befriending dragons, hanging out with his dad. Not to mention actual focus stuff we haven't talked about yet, like his whole "my dad is evil" phase, and his "I might be evil" phase with him and Skylor. And on top of that, even when he doesn't have an explicit side plot, he's always just a fun and dynamic side character to make jokes or give exposition.

Now, into character stuff. Let's start with Kai's hot headed-ness. Some people say he's been loosing this quality, and I will admit, that's true! But those that claim this makes him inconsistent... I strongly disagree. In early seasons, Kai's temper would lead him to snap at his friends or make stupid decisions that set the team back (see episode 2 Zane freak out)- these are bad things. These are character flaws, yes? Now, in newer seasons, people say that he's inconsistent, cuz sometimes he'll be hot headed, and sometimes he won't. I'd say, this is exactly how being hot headed... works? It flares up without warning, and as an individual gets control of it, it'll pop up less and less often because they're channeling it into productive things - like say directing the anger towards an enemy (see season 11 end freak out). Kai has gained control of a character flaw, and though it still pops up on occasion, the fact that it's a once in a while kind of thing speaks to his growth. I have a little brother who has this exact personality, and watching him grow up, I can tell you, this is how it is. He used to snap all the time, and he still does sometimes, but much less frequently, because he's a more mature person with better control of his emotions. This is a good thing. This is overcoming personal flaws. This is progression we're seeing.

And while you're hyper focused on this one aspect of him, things like his cocky confidence haven't changed a bit. I mean, that season 3 bit between him and Pixal, and his season 11 "fire maker" streak have the exact same energy. You can not convince me otherwise.

Another adjacent quality that hasn't been dampened is Kai's impulsiveness. This can be a good quality of his, he'll get into a fight without thinking, getting the jump on the enemy. Good stuff. But, this has become such a well defined trait of Kai's that it has been used in a comedic capacity. This is what happens when a character is extremely consistent to the extent that both the audience and the characters in universe would be able to predict their actions. Kai's impulsivity used to be a more serious quality that put himself and others at risk, and was a big power move whenever he did something rash, but it's become such a staple of the show that it's now being used for comedy. That isn't Kai's impulsivity going away, that's Kai's impulsivity being recontextualized for the sake of the show. The season 9 "Who's stupid enough to jump on that thing" isn't a joke at the expense of Kai just for being dumb, it's a joke at Kai's being so predictably impulsive that everyone already knows he'll be the one to put himself in an insane amount of danger without thinking twice (you know, something stupid that might get him killed). But because in this instance, the danger is warranted, this is bravery. It's a complement to his character- it's what ends up defeating the colossus. Why are some people so bothered by this joke?

Oh right, cuz for some reason people want to peg Kai as the smart one? Look, Kai isn't stupid, none of the ninja are. All of them have smart moments (all of them have dumb ones too) and Kai can certainly handle himself, but "smart" is definitely not one of his defining characteristics- I think some people are confusing smart for his actual strength. Connected to his impulsivity, Kai has very good simplistic instincts. He sees the big picture and looks at the most surface level solution- which when the situation calls for it, that does indeed make him smart. But the same logic that led him to think "This snake has a glowing target on its head, lets hit it" also led him to think "I'm in a video game, therefore I am immortal." Are you really going to look at me and say he figured out Lloyd was the green ninja through logical deduction and a careful consideration of the facts? No. He had a gut feeling, and he trusted it. Instincts- instincts paired with his impulsive following of said instincts is what leads him to solve problems- and sometimes, that can be extremely effective. This goes for other ninja too. Jay isn't the smartest ninja- I would really only classify Zane and Nya as having intelligence define them (hence their ship name). But Jay is extremely creative and crafty. He also knows his was around mechanics, and as such, this will lead him to come up with creative tech based solutions which are smart. But, idk about you, if I had to point to another ninja as being 'dumb' it would 100% be Jay. Kai is a lot of things. He's passionate and determined and confident and persistent. He's a good improvisor, he's powerful and he's charming! These are all wonderful qualities, he doesn't also have to be the smart one. I am the worlds biggest Pixal stan, and she's a smart, sassy, powerful character, but I'm not gonna sit here and tell you she's also hilarious and adaptable and strong willed. She's a straight man to all the ninja's antics, extremely tied to her samurai x suit, and lets people push her around all the time. That doesn't mean she can't be funny, or self interested, but when she does act these ways, it stems from her other more prominent qualities. That make sense?

And while we're clearing up what Kai isn't, please stop characterizing Kai as an overly protective brother - especially romantically. The only two times he's been romantically protective to Nya are in Wu's Teas which I mean, come on and in the pilots when Jay is literally a stranger. For crying out loud, by the end of the pilot, he's smiling when Jay and Nya hug. That's not overly protective, that's just normal, any reasonable person would react this way, protective. And it's such a great stereotype break for a kids show like ninjago, having an older brother who actually trusts his younger sister to be her own independent person who can make her own decisions. I mean, I guess it's fine if you HC differently but like... idk, I don't buy it.

Now, is there still room to criticize the writers? Yes. Hell yes. But not to an extent greater than any other character. Could he have had more of a defined reaction to events of the most recent season that I won't name for the sake of spoilers? Yes. But could Zane have reacted for more than .5 seconds at being an evil war lord for apparently 60 years? Yeah. Has Kai taken a back seat in the past 4 seasons? Yeah. But so has Lloyd- and he's literally the main character of the show. Not to mention two of those seasons have gone to people who had to wait over ten seasons to get one to themselves, and one of them is a 40 minute special. Kai's doing just fine.

Anyway. Kai is great. He's a fun, stereotype breaking, impulsively driven, ball of energy and confidence who gets a good amount of screen time and some fun side plots.

One last thing to clear up: no hate to anyone. This isn't targeted at anyone specific, this post has been a long time coming, I've just seen some weird overblown claims on various platforms over the past few months and I finally sat down to write about it.

I like the Kai content we have. After all, if the writers were really that bad at writing him, then no one would like him.

Wow this was so much longer than I thought it would be. Um... if you have other long winded rants you'd like to see from me... let me know I guess?

[keepingupwithpotters]

goddess on a mountain top

Week 5 on @efkgirldetective 's Summer of Jily (technically not set in summer but in may?? surely that's forgivable)💫💫💫

stargazing + I've got plenty of affection / I'd be glad to show you some time

on ao3

It turned out there weren’t that many people who took Divination in her Astronomy class.

She was, somewhere deep in her mind, aware of this fact but the implications of it didn’t hit her until she was paired with her partner for this joint project. All that was left for Lily now was to scowl deep as she craned her neck, eyes crinkling with the effort.

There were many reasons Lily Evans wished she was anywhere but the Astronomy Tower tonight, number one being the late hour. Last she checked, it was very close to curfew, and sure they got permission from both of their professors for this, but that didn’t stop a gnawing worry growing inside her belly. And as a prefect –she still loved reminding herself that– wasn’t she supposed to be a little alert now anyway? Surely, these nerves were normal.

The warm May night was doing nothing to quell these concerns either, just serving as a mocking reminder of how close they were to the OWLs. She tried to console herself by seeing this as an exam prep too, empty star charts laying at the ground, but she would really prefer it if this certain homework was done solo at least.

And that brought her to the heart of the issue: the boy next to him. She had to admit, more than half of her anxieties right now were caused by him, a confession he would never hear from her lips though. An indignant huff escaped her with the thought.

“Stop hogging the telescope, Evans. Do you see Venus or not?”

She let go of James’ telescope with a sigh. They had decided bringing only one would be enough earlier, a decision she highly regretted now.

“No Venus. I think we’re looking in the wrong direction. We shouldn’t even need a telescope to see Venus, it’s supposed to be the brightest in the sky.”

“Umm, you’re wrong, Evans. Sirius is the brightest star in the sky.”

The last part was said with a practiced boredom, a phrase probably drilled into his head – and everybody else who was in the same Astronomy class with Sirius Black too, honestly. She would’ve found it amusing if it wasn’t for her cranky mood.

A saccharin smile. “Good thing Venus is not a star then, right, Potter?”

She decided to continue her search for Venus on the other side, hoping to find Jupiter as well before they lost their chance to see both. Their mission was supposed to be one of the easy ones, with the two brightest planets and all. She had a suspicion that wasn’t why Professor Dowson had given it to them though, remembering her wink as she remarked that maybe this Venus-Jupiter conjunction would do them some good too. Hah. Not bloody likely.

Her decision to leave his side certainly had nothing to do with her clammy hands holding the telescope, slipping further with his proximity. She tried to bring Sev’s face forth in her mind, guilt churning inside her stomach instantly. Better guilt than these weird flutters in her heart.

Venus winked at her from afar, seemingly mocking her thoughts. She didn’t have time to take offense before she turned her head to alert James too, relieved to finally do something besides bickering back and forth about planets and stars.

“Oi, Potter, come over here. I found it.”

He shuffled over reluctantly, probably due to not wanting to admit defeat. He barely even glanced at the sky before opening his mouth.

“Are you sure? I can’t see anything.”

“Well, some of us can see without needing a bloody gold telescope.”

She repositioned him correctly, turning his head to the right direction while grumbling under her breath. Her annoyance prevented her from realizing how close they’d gotten in the process, a fact that instantly took her breath away with the awareness. She waited a while before speaking again.

“Do you see it now?”

He choked out a “Yes.”, managing to stumble over one syllable. She didn’t let herself think why that was the case, too busy stressing over whispering the question at the first place.

Needing some distance in between, she took a shaky step back, trying to regain her composure. “And the dimmer one next to it should be Jupiter. We located the conjunction now, let’s fill the charts before we waste more time.”

“Relax, Evans.” He rolled his eyes. “We’re doing homework, and we have permission. This must be the most boring curfew breaking I have ever been involved in.”

“Sorry it’s not up to your standards, Potter. Next time I’ll bring Peeves with me.”

“I was hoping we would be alone next time we were in the Astronomy Tower together actually, Evans.”

A flush rose to her face with his cheeky smile, hopefully not too visible in the dark. She wanted to storm away under the guise of bringing their empty charts from the other side, but saw he already brought them with him in disappointment. She settled for a really loud exhale instead.

They were sitting on the ground, filling their charts in silence when they were interrupted for the first time that night. A couple barged into the tower in a flurry, limbs tangled, and eyes not seeing anything but each other. They didn’t seem to anticipate anyone else being there at this hour, not bothering to check their surroundings. An amused cough came from James as a warning while she was too shocked to say anything.

The couple finally broke apart, looking at them like they were the ones not supposed to be here.

“Oh, it’s already occupied,” the girl breathed out at last, looking sheepish and apologetic. “Sorry, didn’t see you. We’ll find another place.”

The guy gave them a funny look before leaving as he eyed their position and the charts laying before them, questioning their purpose in the Astronomy Tower most likely. The frantic couple left as quickly as they came in, leaving James and Lily gaping behind them.

The silence was broken by her laugh at last.

“Oh, no. Did she say they will find another place?” It seemed once the dam was broken, there was no stopping it. “I should’ve stopped that as a prefect, shouldn’t I?”

He joined in her laugh after a while too, shock wearing off from both of them gradually. “Nah, Evans. Reckon you deserve a day off. Leave it to the ones patrolling today, it’s their problem.”

The tense mood from earlier was dissipated, just a faint memory behind now that they wouldn’t touch upon. She felt like she owed the couple for that, at least.

“I am done with the star chart. We only have the astrological interpretation left now, right?”

“Yeah.” He went through the notes in front of him rapidly, looking for the correct glyphs. “Okay, so we got Jupiter touching Venus. And Jupiter amplifies everything it comes into contact with. Let’s just list everything Venus does with ‘more’ before it and call it a day.”

She couldn’t argue with that logic. She started to rattle on as she wrote in the margins of her chart. “Alright, then more love, more beauty, more creativity… More art maybe, for the creativity and aesthetic side? And more affection for love and pleasure.”

“Yeah, good, but we’re supposed to write them as the effects of the transit so something like ‘I will show more affection’ is—”

She couldn’t stop the snort that left her mouth.

“What?”, he gave an offended cry. “I’ve got plenty of affection. I am oozing with affection.”

Images of Severus and all the other poor First Years filled her mind. “Yeah, for like three other people.”

“It doesn’t have to be only three people,” he mumbled. She couldn’t hear him without straining her ears.

“Ah, I won’t believe you finally broadened your horizons till I witness it with my own eyes, Potter.”

“Yeah?” There was a challenging glint in his eyes. “Well, I’d be glad to show you sometime,” he bit out.

She tried to stop her mind from wandering. “Can’t wait.”

Lily Evans was no fool, she knew exactly what these innuendos were, and what her body’s extreme reactions to them meant. But Lily Evans was also a good friend. So, she would wait, maybe even talk with Severus in the meanwhile about it. The exam period was plenty stressful anyway, it only made sense for her to be cautious about this.

She would bid her time, stay put until the OWLs were over. Her rising hopes were hushed immediately with the thought, not allowing her mind to dream that far. But for right now, Lily Evans would enjoy some time with James Potter under the stars. After all, she was no saint, and Venus herself shined her approval from above.

[breakyeol]

— SQUIRM, BABY.

You don’t like Doh Kyungsoo. Especially not when he’s got his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you and your seeing stars —goddamn stars!— but can’t make a sound unless you want the entire library to know exactly what he’s doing to you under the table.

┗ Pairing: Tutor!Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: college au, tutor au, enemies w benefits au, smut

Words: 4.7k 

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, sexual acts in a public setting, fingering

A/N; tomorrow is going to be my 1 year anniversary as an EXO-L!! oh my goodness that feels so crazy, time really flies. so here is a little present from me to you, enjoy lovelies!!

“These are all wrong,” Kyungsoo mutters blankly, “start over.”

A loud groan is ripped from your throat, the sound earning you more than a few sideways glares from the surrounding tables but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been here for two hours, studying one of the most intolerable subjects in the world: Calculus. The mere mention of its name made you shiver in disgust.

To be blunt, you’d always been shit at math. Numbers and equations were never your strong suit, not in high school and definitely not now with the added complexities of derivatives and differential equations (neither of which made even the slightest bit of sense to you). You much preferred the gentleness of literature and history to the strict logic and rules of mathematics and science. Unfortunately for you, the latter subjects were just as vital a part of your education, and opting out of them was not an option.

“Can’t we take a break?” You almost whine the question, pressing your fingers into your throbbing temples. “My brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“No.”

You scowl at the bluntness of his rejection. “I’m paying you.” You point out, stabbing a finger into his bicep for emphasis. “Shouldn’t I have a say in when we take a break?”

He rolls his eyes, swatting your hand away and shoving the paper back in your direction. “I’m giving you your money’s worth. Do it again.”

You let out a noisy huff of air, slouching over dramatically in the stiff plastic chair until your chin is pressed against the cold table. “I hope you know I am deeply regretting some of my life decisions right about now.” You grumble, shooting him an icy glare that you hope conveys the absolute loathing you feel for both him and the set of problems laid before you.

“I thought that was a daily thing for you.”

Scoffing, you bury your mouth in the thick sleeve of your hoodie. “Your face is a daily thing for me.”

He doesn’t even bother to look at you, though you could almost feel the intensity of his deadpan. “I think that was the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“Your face is the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“You do realize that that makes absolutely no sense.”

“Your fa—”

“Shut up and do your work.”

He either doesn’t hear or consciously chooses to ignore the colorful array of curses you grumble spitefully in his direction, though simultaneously resigning yourself to the fact that you won’t be able to put off your work inevitably. Kyungsoo was a stickler for proper time management. If he had an agenda set in place for your tutoring session (which he always did), then you better believe he’d be checking off each item within its designated time frame. And if you don’t cooperate— well then, your best bet is to pray that there isn’t a mechanical pencil within his reach.

He might not always be able to reach the top shelf, but Kyungsoo had ways of getting what he wanted. Usually, that chilling glare was enough to get those around him to bend to his will. He could be a scary little shit when he wanted to be. You’ll admit, even you had been the tiniest bit intimidated when you first met him. He was quiet, reserved, strict in manner, but also the dangerous unpredictable type, you gathered that much quickly enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you didn’t get on too well.

Where he was cool and standoffish, “a man of few words” some might say, you were more vocal about your opinions, social by nature, always eager to meet new people and make new connections. You had a tendency to speak loudly when excited and talk with your hands when passionate about a subject. That was something most people learned about you very quickly. Unfortunately, upon your first official meeting at a party in your freshman year with your mutual friends, Kyungsoo had no idea just how emphatic you could be until you’d knocked his drink clean out of his hand and spilled it down the front of his brand new shirt.

It was an accident, of course. You’d apologized profusely and he’d accepted it (albeit somewhat begrudgingly), but that was probably the first of many missteps in your... unique relationship.

With such conflicting personalities, it was understandable that you got into frequent arguments about one thing or another. Petty disagreements would often grow into something larger than they really needed to be. Mostly because despite having such contrasting personalities, you shared the trait of innate stubbornness, neither of you willing to admit when you were wrong. It was easy to argue with him, and you liked when you proved him wrong. You liked the way his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed. You liked the way he glared, the way his lips pouted. You like the challenge he presented you with every time he opened his mouth. Above, you loved to win. Especially when it was against him.

So you pushed, and he pushed right back. And before you knew it, you found yourself a proper ‘frenemy’, though you aren’t sure that that’s quite the right word to describe whatever it was you two were.

But that’s just how the two of you are, how you’d always been. If you were being honest, riling him, seeing that usually so stoic, so controlled expression crack when you pushed just the right buttons— it was fun. You thoroughly enjoyed fucking with him, discovering new and creative ways to get under his skin. And you knew he got just as much satisfaction from doing the same to you, rendering you speechless with witty comebacks, flustering you with his sharp tongue and impressive rebukes.

So really, was it such a terrible thing?

Not to mention, a number of not-so-terrible things occurred as a result of one of your many arguments, such as hiring him as your calculus tutor. One that started out with you claiming he would probably be the shittiest teacher to ever exist (which seemed a valid argument at the time considering how short tempered and impatient he could be *cough* with you *cough*) to which he rebutted with the claim that he could “teach a goldfish advanced calculus” if he set his mind to it, and considering that you “had an IQ equivalent to one”, he could without a doubt teach you. His words, obviously.

It just so happened that you had a calculus exam coming up that next week, so to prove his point, he tutored you for the three days preceding said test. Even though you loathe being proven wrong, you ended up getting one of the highest scores you’d ever gotten on a math test in your entire academic career.

Putting your pride aside, you made the suggestion that he continue to tutor you. He only agreed when you offered him green in exchange for his troubles and admitted that he was right (it took a few extra hours to convince yourself that your grades should be held above your ego before you could bring yourself to verbally admit defeat).

And now here you are, not flunking out of calculus. You’d consider that worthy of the bruise to your pride, even if only by a small margin.

“Kyungsoo, why’d you mark this one wrong?” You frown at the large red X marking problem two as incorrect. You’d been glaring at your scribbled work for almost two minutes, running over the problem in your head, but you couldn’t seem to figure out where he thought you’d gone wrong. It looks right enough to you.

Kyungsoo shifts over to get a better look, his arms pressing against yours in the process and you are briefly stunned by the sudden, unexpected closeness, wholly unable to stop yourself from noticing the faint, woody scent of his aftershave that caresses your senses. Fuck. You can’t tell if you hate or love the fact that he smelled so good. Partly love it because good hygiene is always something to admire in a man (even if that man was Doh Kyungsoo), partly hate it because dammit it’s Doh Kyungsoo and you loathe finding anything that has to do with him attractive. Plus, it’s distracting. You’re here trying to learn and he has the audacity to go around smelling like pine trees and fresh moss after a rainfall. Unfair.

“Right here.”

The scowl you don’t realize you’re wearing immediately drops away as the low baritone of his voice thrums through the cavity of your ribcage and you lean forward to see exactly what he’s pointing at.

“You multiplied straight through instead of distributing.” He explains further upon seeing the uncertainty on your face. A few seconds of further inspection and you finally see what he’s talking about.

“Fuck,” you hiss, “I’m so stupid.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make.” He reassures.

“Yeah, but I should know that by now, I should’ve—” you turn your head, only to nearly choke on air as you discover that any space that once existed between the two of you has virtually disappeared, “... seen it.”

He’s close, so close that you can feel the cool rush of his breath against your skin as he exhales, goosebumps bristling across your arms in response. He’s close. Too close. You can’t think straight, can’t even breathe. The moment that surrounds you feels fragile, like even the slightest disruption would rupture it completely.

Frozen, you can only swallow around the sudden dryness of your mouth as your treacherous eyes drop to trace the plush line of his lips. Who even has lips like that? They’re just so big and so pink, that dark, kissable kind of pink that every girl just wishes her lips could be. You, included. They look soft, and you can’t help but to wonder if they’d still taste like the strawberry bubblegum he’d been chewing on at the beginning of your tutoring session.

“Careful, ___.” The sound of Kyungsoo’s voice, raspier than you recall it being before and laced in a faintly taunting pitch, is enough to break you from your trance and, once freed, you whip your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash.

“Fuck off.” You cough, jaw clenching as you attempt to drag your mind out from the gutter and back onto the calculus problems you have yet to correct. But for whatever reason your brain refuses to cooperate, instead filling your head with images of his pretty mouth and everything it could be doing instead of rambling on about something as uninteresting as calculus. Damnit.

No doubt seeing the distress written clearly across your face, Kyungsoo chuckles, the sound low and smooth where it drips from his lips, and a familiar heat blossoms in the pit of your stomach.

You can feel his eyes on you now, every cell of your being suddenly hyperaware of his presence beside you. The pressure of his knee where it nudges against yours, the teasing curl of his lips as he watches you struggle to focus, the warmth of his palm caressing up your thigh, the— wait what?

Your gaze whips down, breath hitching at the sight of Kyungsoo’s hand gently gripping the lagging clad flesh just above your knee. It’s another few seconds before you’re able to find your voice again.

“W– What’re you—?”

“Focus.” He cuts you off smoothly, fingers soothing over the inside of your leg, squeezing gently. When you don’t look away from him, he smirks, jerking his chin forward in a manner you can only interpret as challenging. There’s a familiar glint in his eye, a dangerous glint that doesn’t fail to provoke your competitive side. You know that look well. He’s challenging you.

And you don’t back down from a challenge.

Especially not from Doh Kyungsoo.

Determination flairs up inside of you, your jaw clenching as you strike him with a single, heated glare that read plain and simple ‘you. are. on.’ before honing all your attention onto the worksheet in front of you. It’s not too difficult to focus at first, to disregard the tingles that erupt across your skin where his hot touch sears into it. You manage to find and correct your error in one of the problems (impressive for you even if Kyungsoo wasn’t feeling your leg up under the table).

But whatever pride you find in doing so is quickly quelled when his hand suddenly shifts higher, and you feel the faintest pressure against your heat. It’s a sensation that robs you of your ability to breathe entirely for a handful of seconds, and you can’t stop the shiver that ripples down your spine.

This, you see, is one of the more recent developments in your oh-so complicated relationship with Doh Kyungsoo. Yet another that began with a disagreement at a party, over something you can’t even remember anymore thanks to the haze of alcohol that clouded both your minds at the time, that spiraled way out of proportion. You remember yelling at him, insulting him, stabbing your finger into his chest, feeling the sting of his lethal glare. God, he’d looked so pissed off, and you just fed off of it, fed off the rage and the frustration that festered like lava in those dark brown eyes. The angrier he got, the harder you pushed, until he finally snapped.

You’re still not sure what you expected to happen. What you expected him to do. But you sure as hell hadn’t anticipated him grabbing you by the throat and pulling you into one of the hottest, most mind numbing kisses you’d ever experienced.

Next thing you remember is being in a bed. Whose bed it was, isn’t important. What is important, however, is the fact that that night you had the best sex of your entire life with the man you thought you couldn’t stand.

Hate sex with Doh Kyungsoo opened your eyes to a whole new world of mind boggling pleasure that you’d never experienced before. Pleasure that no other person had ever been able to give you. God, the things he did to you. No one had ever touched you like that before. It was like he knew all the places on your body that made you unravel. He honestly ruined all other men for you that night because none have even come close to comparing. Which was beyond frustrating especially considering that, at the time, you thought it was a one time thing.

The morning after you both pretended that nothing happened. In the two weeks following as well, neither one of you mentioned it. You tried to erase the memory from your brain, tried to go back to normal, but it was hard considering every time you needed some sexual release (which was more often than you care to admit), it was his hands, his mouth, his cock that you imagined while you touched yourself. You replayed his moans in your head, his deep, rasping voice growling your name, and fuck, you never came harder.

But it was still nothing compared to the real thing.

As time passed you only grew more and more frustrated. Worst of all, you could tell he was feeling it too. It was obvious in the way he looked at you, with fire burning in eyes, in the way he spoke to you, with a pitch of something hot and wanting in his voice, in the way he lost his cool far quicker and far more often than he had in the past, your arguments fiercer and more frequent than they’d ever been. The tension between the two of you was palpable, thick enough to be cut with a knife. It got to the point where even your most oblivious of friends started noticing it as well, though they knew better than to voice their curiosity.

The second time it happened, you were both sober and, somehow, it was even better than you remembered. The pleasure was more intense, more overwhelming, a feeling you can’t even put into words. Then it kept happening. Late at night when he’d show up unannounced at your door. Early in the morning when you had an important exam later in the day and you needed some pre-test de-stressing. Between classes in the back seat of his car just because you could. At parties when your friends were too shit faced to notice the two of you slipping into an unoccupied bedroom.

Just sex. That’s what you both agreed to when it became blatantly obvious that your little ‘arrangement’ wouldn’t be coming to an end any time soon. No strings. Just sex. Just really, really good sex.

And that was perfectly fine by you.

Exhaling shakily through your nose, you try to block out the feeling of his thumb as it begins to caress gently up and down your clothed core, suddenly very grateful for the layers of fabric that separate you from his intoxicating touch. But it’s a gratitude that’s short lived. Just as you manage to adjust and scribble down a correction, he cups his hand over your mound and squeezes. A gasp escapes you, and you try to cover up the sound with a series of short coughs, the sting embarrassment intertwining with the warmth of pleasure as a few eyes briefly glance in your direction.

“You’re such an asshole.” You hiss under your breath, thighs tightening around his hand, locking it in place.

He throws you a lopsided grin, brows lifting and you don’t miss the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I’ve been called worse.” What he means is you’ve called him worse.

Your lips part, but any intelligible words die on the tip of your tongue as he grinds the heel of his palm down, directly against your clit. Your head drops, eyes squeezing shut, teeth locking down firmly on your lower lip in order to silence the soft moan that threatens to break free.

“F- fuck.”

You hear him coo tauntingly beside you at your slip, the tips of his skilled fingers easily locating your entrance and prodding experimentally. At this point, you don’t doubt he can feel the fabric of your leggings growing hot and wet with your arousal.

Despite being used to the quick effect he had on your body, you can help but to feel the slightest twinge of shame at how he was able to rile you up this much with little more than a few well-placed strokes of his fingers. But fuck, it felt so good. You’d already been feeling somewhat deprived since you’d both been so busy this past week with exams and projects and what not. This is the first time you’re spending time with him since almost a week ago.

And you are in need of a fix.

“You look like you’re having a bit of trouble on that problem. Do you need my help?” Kyungsoo leans into you, his face right up next to yours, and you have to resist the sudden urge to kiss him right then in there in front of everyone in the stupid library.

Instead, you grit out an unconvincing, “I’m fine,” and force yourself to stay focused on the dizzying mess of numbers and letters on the worksheet in front of you and not on the delicious warmth of his hand where it is applying just the right amount of pressure to keep you teetering between pleasure and the insatiable need for more.

“You sure?” There’s a certain lightness to his voice that tells you he is thoroughly enjoying watching you struggle. Sadistic bastard.

“Positive.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You almost gasp as a rush of cold air fills the places he had been, and you can’t help the frown that tugs at the corners of your lips, disappointment and irritation coloring your features before you can reel them in. From the corner of your eye, you chance a glance in his direction. The smug, knowing little smirk staining his lips sends a wave of heat pulsing into your cheeks, and you grit your teeth in frustration.

“So what, you’re just going to stop?” You whisper sharply, not making any attempt whatsoever to hide your annoyance.

A look of feigned innocence overcomes his features. “You said you didn’t need my help.”

You grit your teeth, glaring at him as hard as you can manage with how incredibly turned on you are. But he remains unfazed.

“If you want my help,” he continues, voice dropping an entire octave, “you’re going to have to ask for it... nicely.”

Nice wasn’t a word in your vocabulary when Kyungsoo was involved.

Seeing the resistance you are still putting up, he feathers his fingers over your thigh, tracing slow designs across the thin, black fabric. You swallow, unable to look away as they trail dangerously higher, teasing closer to where you both knew you wanted them most.

“You do want it, don’t you?”

Fuck, you want it so bad.

You know that he knows you want it. It’s just the getting yourself to actually say it out loud part that proves to be a challenge. But that’s exactly what he wants you to do, he wants to hear you say it, wants to see you cast aside your stubborn pride and beg for it. Beg for him.

Lifting your eyes, you glance unsurely around the library. It isn’t overly crowded anymore since most of the other students have begun to trickle out as late afternoon approaches. Plus, the table you were seated at was tucked into the far back corner of the room, secluded and out of the way. But still, your nerves buzzed at the thought of someone seeing. Though maybe — just maybe — there was a buzz of something else as well. Excitement, perhaps?

Grip tightening around your pencil, you chewed on the corner of your lip, refusing to meet Kyungsoo’s penetrating gaze as you let out a soft murmur. “...ease.”

He leans closer, mirth shimmering in his eyes. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Groaning, you shoot him a scowl, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Please help me, asshole.”

Laughter bubbles at his lips, the genuine kind that makes his cheeks lift and his nose wrinkle. You like it when he laughs like that. Makes him look a lot less like a serial killer.

Sinking his teeth into the pillowy flesh of his lower lip to stifle his laughter, he shoots you a lazy grin, “that’s all you had to say.”

Next thing you know, his hand is slipping beneath the elastic of your leggings and into the soft cotton confines of your underwear. Your mouth fell open, a sharp inhale filling your lungs with cold air as his fingers slid through your slick folds.

“I knew you were wet but shit.” He hisses, thick brows furrowing at the feeling of your heavy arousal coating the length of his digits. “I must say, I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” you breathe, eyes fluttering, “even Chanyeol can get me this— ngh!”

Without warning, he plunges his middle finger inside of you, and the remainder of your sentence pitches into a strangled moan. One look at his face, jaw clenched, nostrils flared, lips down turned, tells you he isn’t all too pleased at the mention of another man’s name, especially when he’s the one buried knuckle deep in your greedy cunt.

A hazy smirk curls onto your lips and you let out a low hum of pleasure, walls squeezing around him. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.”

“Is that why you enjoy pissing me off so much?” He questions, tone biting and low, and you shutter involuntarily as he rolls the pad of his thumb harshly over your aching clit.

“Partly.” You admit, somewhat breathless. “But you’re also just a really fun person to piss off.”

He chuckles dryly in response, though the sound lacks any genuine amusement. “You are such a brat, you know that?” He emphasizes the word by stretching you around a second finger, and you have to drop your pencil in favor of clasping your hand over your mouth, unable to swallow down the soft whimpers that tremble up your throat.

“You love it.” You manage to get out before you’re forced to bite into the tender flesh of your palm to muffle a desperate cry when the slow thrusts of his digits suddenly picks up speed. Your thighs squeeze around his hand, hips jerking up to grind your throbbing clit against the heel of his palm. Electricity ricochets through your veins, and you feel that distinctive tightening in the pit of your stomach. Kyungsoo also feels the way you throb and clench around him, and makes sure to grind down hard against your swollen clit.

Heat immediately spreads through your core, the intensity of the pleasure becoming more than you can handle. “Oh god, Kyungsoo.” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, and you quickly duck your head, doing your best to make it seem like you’re focusing on your work and not the fingers drilling relentlessly into your g-spot, praying to god that no one had seen the blissed out expression on your face. Still, you can’t help the quiet whine that escapes you when his ministrations slow.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” He asks in less than a whisper, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “Ever hear of subtlety?”

“Ever hear of suck my dick?” You snap back without missing a beat, only to jolt as his fingers curl inside of you, pressing directly against that sensitive bundle of nerves. Every muscle in your body tenses, and fuck you’re so close you can almost taste it. Frantically, you thrust your hips, desperately trying to fuck yourself down on his digits.

“Sit still.” He growls, and you quiver when he sinks his teeth into the lobe of your ear, obeying only because you really don’t want to get banned from the campus library if someone happened to catch on.

“Soo— fuck,” the force with which you bite into your lip is nearly about to break the skin, but you can’t be bothered by the pain, not with how quickly your orgasm was approaching. Sensing as much, Kyungsoo goes the extra mile of drawing hard, fast figure eights over your clit with his thumb while simultaneously thrusting his fingers into you so fast that you swear you can almost hear it.

All at once fire roars through your veins, euphoria consuming you as your high crashes over you. Your walls spasm around his digits, painting them with your release.

He doesn’t withdraw from you until you go slack, thighs spreading, body slumping back in your chair, eyes fluttering as a hazy, blissed out smile touches your lips. You can only watch through hooded lids as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, sighing in amazement as he sucks them clean. There’s a twinge of arousal in your core as he moans softly at the taste of you on his tongue, a downright lethal sound that somehow manages to rouse your positively spent pussy.

This man is going to be the absolute death of you one of these days.

“Fuck.” You chuckle airily, heady gaze flickered over him lazily, only to do a double take when you notice something standing upright beneath the zipper of his jeans. The corners of your lips twirled into a mirthful grin, eyebrows raising slowly.

“Need some help with that?”

“Yes.” He answers shamelessly and without hesitation, grunting softly as he adjusts himself in the tight confines of his jeans to make the raging hard-on he’s sporting somewhat less obvious. “But not here.”

“I figured. So... your car or mine?”

“Didn’t you just get a new one with reclining seats?” He questions, running the tip of his tongue over the seam of his lip at the mere implication.

You strike him with a wicked grin, already beginning to shove your things into your bag. “I did indeed.”

“Then what are we— wait.”

“What?”

“You didn’t finish correcting the worksheet yet.” He points out, drumming his fingers across the paper that had completely slipped your mind.

You pull a face, pausing in the act of gathering your belongings long enough to cross your arms pointedly over your chest. “No offense, Kyungsoo, sweetheart, but I’d much rather suck your dick than do one more of those stupid fucking calc problems.”

His brows leap to his hairline, and he offers a single nod of acceptance, in no position to argue with such a valid point.

“Noted.”

[remedialpotions]

The Forbidden Forest

For my friend @jamezbot 🤖 and his love of this particular, super-canonical, not-at-all-ridiculous ship.

I cannot emphasize this enough: this is a crack fic.

***

It was the clicking of Ron’s fingers in front of his face that finally snapped Harry back to reality.

“Mate,” said Ron, half-laughing as he sat back down on his bed, “what’s wrong with you? I’d say you look like you’ve seen a ghost, but that’s actually not all that strange around here-“

“No,” Harry interrupted. His voice felt hollow, detached from him somehow. “Definitely not a ghost.”

He still struggled to believe it - even after all of the bizarre things that had happened in his life - but what he had seen had been very, very real.

“Where’ve you been, anyway?” Ron swung his long legs over the side of his bed, feet flat on the stone floor. “It’s nearly midnight.”

“Erm-“ Harry gulped. “Just... out. With Ginny.”

A grimace flashed over Ron’s face, then he said, “then why’ve you got this look on your face? Did you ditch her?” he demanded. “I swear to Merlin, Harry, if you-“

“No! No, nothing like that.”

“All right, well then - oh fuck, it’s not Malfoy, is it?”

“No, no - all right, listen. Something - something happened,” he began. “But if I tell you, you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone else.”

“What, not even Hermione?”

“Fine, but just her.” Harry paused, eyes darting around the quiet dorm room. Neville’s garbled snores sounded from behind the closed curtains of one bed; Seamus and Dean’s beds were both empty. They’d both been out past curfew more and more lately. “So listen, Ginny and I were out on a, erm, a walk-“

Ron’s features twisted into disgust. “Ugh, come on, mate, I know what happens on these so-called walks-“

“That’s not the point! Just listen.”

“Harry,” Ginny laughed against his lips, her fingers curling in his hair, “we’re going to get caught-“

“So what?” Harry kissed her again. “What’re they gonna do? Expel us?”

“I know, but-“ Ginny glanced toward the greenhouse, where lantern light flickered behind the dingy glass. “Professor Sprout is still - mmm - still in there-“

Even as Harry couldn’t stop himself kissing her again, it did occur to him that he didn’t particularly relish being found in such a compromising state by anyone, let alone a teacher.

“Yeah, I reckon you’re right.”

Ginny grinned, her face still close to his. “I know.”

“I’ve got an idea, though. Come on.”

Ginny extracted herself from his lap, and they stood, then started off hand-in-hand across the school grounds. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, bathing everything in dusky blue light. All was quiet and calm; even the Whomping Willow could not be bothered to wave its branches at them as they passed, and Hagrid’s hut was completely dark.

“The forest?” said Ginny as they approached the row of trees that marked its perimeter. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect. No one ever goes in here.”

“You don’t think there’s a reason for that?”

“Can you get on with the story already?” interrupted Ron. “‘Cause I know I said I’m all right with it, and I am, but I don’t love hearing about you and my little sister looking for a place to get off-“

“And I don’t really love telling you about it,” replied Harry. “But if you’d just let me get to the point-“

“Sorry, sorry. Go on, then.”

“So where are the centaurs?” asked Ginny as they wound through the thick maze of trees.

“Way further in,” Harry assured her. “We don’t need to go that far.”

“And Grawp?”

“He won’t bother us.” Harry slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. “He likes Hermione best, anyway.”

Ginny’s laugh sounded through the quiet air. “Poor Ron’s always got competition.”

Harry chuckled and leaned over, intent on kissing her cheek, when the sound of a twig snapping caused Ginny to freeze in her arms.

“What was that?”

Harry shrugged. “Thestral, maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe.” She didn’t sound convinced.

“Here, let’s just go over-“ Harry’s words died in his throat, because now he wasn’t just hearing the sound of twigs snapping; deep, very human-sounding murmurs met their ears.

“Oh my God,” Ginny breathed. “It’s Dean and Seamus.”

“You think so?”

“Definitely.” Even in the low light, he could see her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Sounds like two blokes, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it actually does.”

“We’ve got to investigate,” said Ginny, her voice a low, excited whisper. “Please? We won’t let on that we’re there or anything, I just want to see-“

“You want to see your ex-boyfriend snogging his new boyfriend?”

Ginny nodded, gleeful. “Yeah, I do! Let’s go see. Please?”

Harry, admittedly, was curious - he had heard the rumors, he’d suspected, but he didn’t really know, not for certain - and anyway, it didn’t really matter what Ginny asked of him. He’d do it without a second thought.

And so they crept, careful to keep their footsteps light lest they make their presence known, in the direction of the voices. The thing was, the closer they got, the less it sounded like Dean or Seamus. There was no sign of Seamus’ Irish brogue, nor Dean’s London accent. And these voices didn’t sound like those of teenagers, either: they were timeworn and mature.

“‘M so glad ter be with yeh again,” came a gruff voice from within a particularly thick copse of trees. “Feels like it’s been ages.”

Harry’s stomach leapt into his throat - this was Hagrid.

“Merlin’s pants,” Ginny breathed. “Who do you think he’s with? Madame Maxime?”

But before Harry could answer, another voice - this one just as familiar and yet just as surprising - responded.

“I’ve missed you as well, Rubeus. I regret how little time we’ve been able to spend together lately.”

It was a voice Harry would have known on his death bed. It was one that had imparted wisdom and had comforted him in his darkest moments. One that had been a constant source of safety and stability in an increasingly uncertain world.

It was none other than Albus Dumbledore.

Next to him, Ginny positively quivered with excitement.

“We should go,” Harry muttered, trying to steer Ginny by the waist. “We shouldn’t be here-“

“Are you kidding?” Ginny hissed back. “We have to go see this.”

As she crept, catlike, through the forest, Harry had no choice but to follow in her footsteps.

“You’re fucking with me,” said Ron decisively. “And I mean, twenty points to Gryffindor for creativity, but-“

“I’m not,” Harry insisted. “I’m really, really not. When have I ever lied to you?”

“I don’t know, but maybe you’ve decided to start-“

“With this?!”

“I don’t know!” Ron threw his hands helplessly in the air. “Maybe Ginny’s put you up to it, to see what you can get me to believe-“

“She hasn’t. And anyway, the story’s not over.”

“Look!” Ginny pointed into the copse of trees, her face a mixture of shock and utter delight. “Oh my God, this is mad.”

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but it certainly wasn’t Dumbledore, in spangled, midnight-blue robes, leaning back against the trunk of a tree with Hagrid pressed closely against him. Their Care of Magical Creatures professor positively dwarfed their wizened Headmaster, but neither seemed to mind. Dumbledore, in fact, seemed to relish it as he entwined his long, wrinkled fingers in Hagrid’s bushy beard.

“Are we hallucinating?” asked Ginny. “We’ve got to be, right?”

“I don’t think I could hallucinate something like this.”

As they watched, rapt, Hagrid wrapped a massive hand around Dumbledore’s thin, knobby one. “It pains me ter see yeh hurting, Albus,” said Hagrid as he pressed a whiskery kiss to Dumbledore’s blackened fingers. “Are yeh sure it’s worth it?”

“It is for the greater good.” Dumbledore rose up on his toes, reaching toward Hagrid, and as their lips met, their beards brushed. “Soon, my love, it will all make sense.”

“My love,” Ron repeated weakly. “You’re sure you heard right?”

“Oh, quite.”

“So...” Ron raked his fingers through his hair. “So Hagrid and Dumbledore are-“

“Yeah.”

“D’you reckon they’re... er...” Ron gestured uncomfortably, waving his large hands awkwardly around. “Y’know-“ He laced his fingers together; his implication was clear.

“I didn’t exactly have a chance to ask,” Harry retorted.

“Well, yeah, I just - how would that work, exactly? Hagrid’s so much...” Words failing him, Ron resorted again to gesticulating wildly. “Er - bigger-”

“I don’t know!”

Harry’s sharp words rang out in the silence of the dorm, and they both froze as there came a rustling of sheets from Neville’s bed.

“Well,” said Ron, once Neville had resumed snoring, “makes sense when you think about it, doesn’t it? The way Hagrid’s always talked about him, I just thought he admired him - great wizard, and all that - but I s’pose it must be more.”

“Yeah, I s’pose it is.”

“But,” added Ron, pointing a finger at Harry in mock seriousness, “I really don’t want any more stories about you snogging my sister.”

“I don’t want to tell any more of them, so we’re good.”