#edit: oh another thing I just thought of is the food situation for the players

[social-cocoon]

Squid Game S2 spoilers

I think it was really interesting that the start of the season we see Gi-hun sort of running a tiny version of the Games. I saw the whole search as him, a wealthy man, offering less fortunate people money if they played a game with a big payout to the person or team who won. And the game was another children's game: hide and seek. He even had his own control room - his car with all the gadgets in it to monitor the "players". The main differences are that he wasn't purposefully sending them to their deaths over the money, they would all be paid so long as they participated, and the intent wasn't to exploit them.

The thought isn't going anywhere, I just think it's pretty neat

[clueless-content-creator]

Kim Younghoon x Y/n: Enemies, but not for long.

Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff towards the end 

Warnings: Cursing, Heavy Sarcasm (Not edited!)

Word Count: 1.5k

It all started when your lovely brother Sangyeon had introduced you to his so-called "best friend" Like actually, who on earth could see him as a good person? Everyone else except for you, seemingly. And little did you know, he had every intent on getting you to at least like him. Speaking of the devil, he's over at your house right now. Since your brother was going on his honeymoon and you had recently moved into a new house, you only had a few (necessary) pieces of furniture. Sangyeon thought that inviting Younghoon over to 'babysit' you while he was gone was a good idea when you only had one bed. Spoiler alert, it wasn't. Now you're stuck here with an idiot of a man who shouldn't even be here but is anyways. You just woke up from your nap to hear very loud moving noises. They sounded like boxes. Oh wait- "Lovely, you're awake. Finally." He dead-panned making you glare at him. "I bought you some more furniture considering you didn't have anything to cook with." He shrugs, "I was just going to eat fast food until I had the money to get all this. Plus you hate me, why would you do this?" He so badly wanted to confess right there and then but he knew it wasn't the right time. "It'll come, the time will come." He thought to himself. "Well, I thought at the very least you won't have to get fat from eating fast food every day and night and I can cook you something!" His sudden change of attitude made you incredibly suspicious. "You mean, so you can finally poison and get rid of me? Cause if so, then yay! I won't get to be with an asshole anymore!" He sighed, "It's not that Y/n. Come on, we can bond and have some reckless fun while your brother isn't here. You know how protective he is." You chewed on your lip, debating whether to or not. "Nope! Still not happening in a million years, but maybe in your dreams!" You taunted him, then happily skipping away to the bathroom. He heavily sighed in defeat, "This is going to be a very long day." He whispered to himself, remembering when you two were young and this whole story was the other way round. You had really liked him and was pretty much in love with him but he dated other girls and completely ignored you. Except for one day, Sangyeon discussed with him about you and your feelings for him but at that point, you had realized that he was an ignorant asshole that was just a dirty player. And when your brother "introduced" him to you, you were utterly disgusted. Refusing to try to get along, that was years ago and it wasn't until Sangyeon found his wonderful wife that she had opened everyone's eyes, making you two closer each day. But, something still didn't feel right. When you were young, you kept people really close to you, at times almost too close. But now, it hurts to constantly keep everyone at an arm's distance but it's your excuse to not get hurt by other people. But Younghoon's side of the story was the other way round, as a kid, he kept everyone away for most of the time. And was a player in high school to avoid commitment and relationships. But now, a complete softie, at least... For you he was. When Sangyeon mentioned you and how long you had feelings for him he felt awful, considering how long he ignored you for he was still surprised by how much you liked him, emphasis on the -ed. When your brother introduced you two he noticed how distant you were, being the complete opposite of what Sangyeon described you as. He asked for clarification from your brother and he replied with, "You messed up not noticing her earlier, I'd like to say that you're too late but you've still got time man, don't mess this one up too." Still, to this day, Younghoon takes those words to heart. They still echo in his head, "You've still got time, don't mess this one up too." He sighed again, thanking the moving people before going to knock on the bathroom door, "Y/n? You in there?" You banged back on the door, startling him. "Where else would I be?! I can't teleport, although if I could I would go anywhere that's without you!" He scoffed lightly, "Well, you can't so don't be a wimp and face me." You swiftly opened the door, facing him head-on. "What is it with you?" You grumbled, quickly avoiding eye contact with him. "I just need you to tell me what you want to eat." You chuckled half-heartedly, "Pizza. At the very least, something that is not made with those icky hands of yours!" He looked down at his hands, seeing them a little dirty and scratched up from carrying the moving boxes. He gulped silently, then nodding as he grabbed his phone out of his back pocket. "Hello? Yes, can I order (your favorite pizza) please?" You felt a bit guilty for yelling at him for no reason, half of you felt as though he deserved it anyways but the other half didn't. "I wish he really did like me back then, maybe things would be different. And I could be as happy as my brother's wife or least not as stubborn or miserable as I am now but who knows? Things could change with the snap of a finger." You sighed, talking to yourself again as you finished your makeup. But little did you know, things would change, and that quickly. 

That week had passed relatively quickly, Sangyeon and his wife had come back from their trip (honeymoon) already, meaning that Younghoon had to leave. Sangyeon thanked Younghoon for feeding, entertaining, even buying you new furniture, and of course doing the rest for you. Even though you didn't feel like you needed it, you still did. But now, you have mixed feelings, your old feelings for Younghoon are back again, and stronger than ever. But, he's still the same asshole that you fell in love with years ago, he hasn't changed one bit. "Oh great," You thought to yourself. "I'm just digging a deeper hole for myself" You sighed before waving Younghoon off, feeling slightly sad but more so relieved that you now, finally, have the house all to yourself. 

Three weeks had passed after the time that you and Younghoon kind of spent together and you still to this day, have mixed emotions about him. And after you told your friends about the whole situation, one of them had set you up with another man, who apparently was one of Younghoon's old school friends. He was just as (annoyingly) charming as Younghoon. His name was Hyunjae and he was incredibly handsome and was very kind and sweet to you but after the first date that you had, his personality seemed kind of boring and didn't match yours as well as Younghoon's did surprisingly. But when he asked you to be his girlfriend, in a way, you felt obligated to say yes. It was big news to everyone, including you. But it was the biggest news the Younghoon, feeling like his chances of ever getting loved by you was thrown out of the window now. But even after all that trauma, he still felt somewhat happy for you two, forcing a smile upon his lips anytime he saw you two out in public or online.

A month had passed and you broke up with Hyunjae because he explained why he asked you to be his girlfriend so quickly after the date. Long story short, he made a bet with his friends that he could steal you away from Younghoon to make him jealous, maybe even lonely. At this point, you felt utterly betrayed and you wanted him to apologize to Younghoon but he refused, saying that he is your problem now. So here you are, fake crying with Younghoon rubbing your back all because you faked a story that Hyunjae broke up with you. Because after all, he "cheated." Younghoon felt wrong, 'Should I just hug her and confess now?' He sighed heavily "Screw it, now or never." He spoke out loud making you look at him confused. He then took your hands in his and kissed you. Your eyes widened, not being able to close them when his lips moved against yours, then pulling away "I'm sorry Y/n but I can't keep it a secret anymore, I love you and I've loved you even when you did years back in school. I will always love you and be by your side no matter how many guys (or girls) you date and if you don't feel the same way, I get it but I just had to tell you." He had tears in his eyes, gently embracing you as he kissed your head. You pulled away, feeling him trying to resist it wanting to hold you close for longer. "Younghoon... I feel the same, recently I've been on such a rollercoaster of emotions I didn't know what I felt and what I didn't but now I know exactly what I want to feel. I love you too and I want to be with you only!" He smiled wholeheartedly, "Y/n... I love you so much and I will for the rest of my life."

[tomatograter]

How do ya capture the "voice" of homestuck characters so well? Besides studying the comic, is there any other media you consume to really get in their head?

First off: Thanks, i’m happy you enjoy my stuff! Secondly… there ARE a few steps i take to the madness.

I basically come from a Dungeon master/Open-world roleplay management background, so when approaching HS cast voices and trying to understand a character to write a story for them i usually take into account 1.INSPIRATIONS, 2.INTERESTS & due to homestuck’s nature, 3.INTERPRETATIONS (As opposed to “player intent”- Hussie’s work is an amalgam of himself and the public input.)

Rereading their logs/sections always helps when you’re trying to figure out their language, pacing, and a bit of their temperament, but getting too lost on mimicking their messages as-is without looking into the character itself may risk leaving them ringing hollow or repetitive (specially for the section of the public that may be more familiar with this character than you are. This is something that may matter to you or not, if you WANT this work to appeal to a specific public or are just messing around.) Because it may just come down to mindless quirk indulgence. In my experience, readers are more forgiving & enthralled by creators who, while not following the specifics of a character’s quirk to a T maintain a sense of internal logic that is congruent with what is shown throughout their appearances. Some AU’s specifically remix, remove or substitute these aspects, and the reason why people usually don’t complain about it is that “it makes sense- given (x) and (x) context.” Like kidswap aus, etc. 

Another thing about Quirks is that they can very easily be broken. Having a grasp of how quirk rules affect a character based on their emotional state and how it changes over time is more valuable than internalizing a hard set of rules that never changes. (Ex: Sollux’ quirk evolves over time. So does Aradia’s, as she changes bodies. June’s quirk takes on Vriska-like qualities after they begin chatting, Vriska uses 8’s and exclamation points more liberally and/or nonsensically when she’s angry/distressed/desperate, Jake’s transatlantic slang and embellishment of speech is mostly at the backseat unless he’s pretending/anxious/overwhelmed, otherwise he’s pretty simple.) Knowing how to break a quirk is just as good as knowing how to write it - traditional prose in fics *may not use quirks at all*, but they’re so good at grasping the particular intonation a character uses when stringing words together at a given situation that you don’t mind that at all. It’s a smooth adaptation.

[GREAT RESOURCE: this google drive has a compilation of all logs between characters in Homestuck separated by participants but usually only lists them on one-on-one basis, so you may wanna look at groupchats in the original comic. I think the epilogues section may be still unfinished. I forget who originally posted it on twitter but i know they have a dedicated tumblr, i’ll edit this if someone can name their blog]

“INSPIRATIONS” are usually how i define character personalities by their distinct mix of archetypes. This is the “PROTAGONIST”, “GOTH GIRL”, “SILLY GIRL”, “COOL GUY”, “WEIRDO”, “GAMER GIRL”, “CODING WANNABE” and other such little buzzwords that HS will throw around in reference to each of its characters, and that usually, but not always, function as a setup to subvert the expectations based on that character come a certain point in the story. Where does the character you’re trying to write fall into, when you try to describe them in these terms? Does their story humour this definition, reject it, destroy it, or evolve it? Does this seem like a genuine fact about them, or a facade? Why do you think that is? (Asking questions is my preferred way of pulling apart and understanding a character, this may work differently for you.)

“INTERESTS” is where i look into for that chunky, fatty, well-grilled meat that goes in the middle of a character’s text. Homestuck characters are defined by what they like, what they aspire to be, and what they fail at becoming(& how that shapes their actions going forwards). Interacting with the media they like may not always be the way, but having a general idea of how it functions and what it means to them is usually very helpful. I was already familiar with a lot of things my favorite characters enjoy, and thus it was easier for me to get attached to them. I also had to watch a lot of shitty movies sometimes. You win some, you lose some.

EX: It’s easier to write Dave’s pov if you have a good grasp of the pop culture & economics he so often references. (What he likes) It’s easier to write Rose’s pov when you’ve searched a bit of armchair psychology wikipedia definitions and familiarized yourself with the genre and existential questions usually involved in Eldritch Horror, and how it evolved outside of Lovecraft. (What she aspires to be like) It’s easier to write Jake when you understand his persona is a collage of juvenile and outdated archetypes taken from action flicks & shitty mainstream comicbooks, that he ultimately fails to ever live up to and hinders his development as a kid at odds with self-imposed traditional masculinity, dreading to publicize the big “Gay” word. (What he fails at becoming)

It’s always useful to ask yourself “Why does this character like (x)” and what that particular thing may say about them. It doesn’t have to be a big groundbreaking revelation, just put yourself into their shoes and try to reverse engineer what you’re presented about them vs their environment, personal issues, and you might just find yourself understanding why they do what they do. 

“Karkat probably likes cheesy romantic comedies because they’re peak middleclass normalass media for someone who’s ostracized from troll society and is purposefully a shithead to keep people away”

“Terezi probably likes dragons because they’re FUCKING COOL but also whoops here’s all this historic lore about Redglare and their lusus and a tragic sense of JUST1C3”

“Aradia probably grapples with the concept of mortality and the ephemeral nature of life, so she’s really into the morbid observation of disasters & archeology & bones, i guess? Is this because she died really young? Oh. Maybe yeah.”

But if you find the above too hard to access on your own, that’s where 

INTERPRETATIONS come in to make this process smoother in the case you just wanna write an extended cast thing and frankly you could not give less of a shit about (x)’s lore, you just want to have a sense of what people like about them, and why people read about them, and how you can purposefully adapt that into your text so socmedia user halfucker69 isn’t crying on your mentions for 11 whole threaded comments about how you did their babyboybaby wrong. I can’t exactly point to you where you can FIND meta because this highly depends on the character, and sometimes you just have to make your own food, but you’ll be good if you try to look into creators who post about these characters, whose thoughts or fan media seem to be congruent with your idea of said character or solid enough that you can easily see how it’s been developed from point A to point B. Interact with more fanworks. Find out what works for you and what doesn’t. “Character study” is a whole genre of fanfic, if you don’t wanna go for shippy stuff - but a lot of “shippy stuff” has its own valuable edge to seeing how people internalize a character, and shouldn’t be as easily dismissable as it is. Again, you’ll have to rely on your own sense of internal logic here - you can’t take EVERY work as the universal truth, but trying stuff out will give you a better sense of who you think this character is.

Then you have to get around trying to write it, which is easier said than done. A lot of times writing about a character will lead you to understanding them better, and you may even find yourself disagreeing with things past-you said when you were first beginning to think about them, and that’s ok. You only get better at writing by asking better questions and then writing some more. Take your time with it. I hope this helps!

[banshee1013]

Suptober Day 1 - On The Road Again

So, here we go again! Attempting more art/fic for Suptober. This time, I’m going to string each day’s art/fic into one cohesive story (and a post-season 15 timestamp for “Ten Inch Hero” even!) Wish me luck! Here’s Day One - On The Road Again. Enjoy! ==================================== Title: The Road Less Traveled (subject to change) Overall Rating: Mature (may change to Explicit, heed the tags for each entry) Tags: Castiel/Dean, mention of Sam/Eileen, Post-Season 15, ExAngel!Cas, MostlyRetiredHunter!Dean, Road Trip

(Note: all ficlets are unbeta’d. At the end of the month, I’ll wrap up whatever I manage to get written, clean it up, get it beta’d, and post to AO3. So please pardon any mistakes!) ========================================

CHAPTER ONE - On The Road Again Words: 988

Castiel startles, disrupted from his reading as a loud clatter coming from the Bunker’s kitchen shatters the looming silence.

Things have been very quiet since Chuck was defeated, with Jack watching over Heaven, Rowena watching over Hell, Benny ruling Purgatory, and Billie keeping the Shadow company in The Empty. Oh, there were still hunts, but they were few and far between. Without Chuck to twist creatures to his storytelling needs, they have been more or less content to live their lives like regular citizens. Castiel had been occupying his non-hunt downtime reading everything the Men of Letter’s vast Library contained; and exploring his new humanity - his Grace being sacrificed in the battle against Chuck.

Dean had gone to great measures to make this new human existence of his as pleasurable as possible - introducing him to new flavors in both food and drink, new activities... and many new and different carnal pleasures. 

He closes his book - the Library’s very special edition of Alice In Wonderland, of particular interest to him due to its role in returning Dean to full size after their encounter with a witch earlier this year - setting it upon the table before him and rises, heading to the kitchen to investigate the disturbance.

Turning into the kitchen doorway, he is greeted by the enjoyable site of Dean bent over in front of the refrigerator, jeans stretched tight over his superior posterior. He smirked at his own thought - “superior posterior”. Rhymes always pleased him greatly, especially when they were his own.

Tearing his eyes reluctantly away, he notices the possible source of the earlier clattering noise - the green cooler, most commonly occupying the back seat of the Impala, was now situated on the kitchen island, lid open. As he ponders the significance of the appearance of the cooler outside of its normal environment, Dean rises from his rummaging, packages of cold cuts and cheese in his hands, and turns toward the cooler on the island. His eyes raise and catch Castiel’s.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean’s remarkable green eyes sparkle in the warm light of the kitchen, and the corners of his mouth pull up into a bright smile. 

Lips...very distracting, Castiel notes to himself. Very distracting indeed.

“Uh... Earth to Cas? You in there, Major Tom?” Dean waves at him, breaking Castiel’s stare and diverting his gaze from Dean’s distractingly full lips, back up to his equally distracting eyes. 

He takes a moment to contemplate the pros and cons of his new-found humanity and the increased sensory input now available to him, and decides that, while inconvenient and often overwhelming, they had allowed him the ability to move from merely admiring Dean’s soul, to the capacity to admire every other other part of him as well - and to experience the joy of falling madly in love with him. 

He feels his own lips pull into a smile matching Dean’s own. “I am still on Earth, and also understand that reference.” His smile widens at his own joke. Jokes were also very enjoyable, even his subpar ones; especially when they caused Dean to laugh as he had just started doing. 

“Dammit, I love you so much, Cas,” Dean says, recovering from his outburst. “Never, ever change.” 

“I will do my very best to not change, unless the change improves my ability to make you laugh,” Ignoring Dean’s snort, he addresses the subject at hand. 

“I heard a noise and came to investigate.” He gestures toward the open cooler. “I assume the presence of the cooler and the sandwich ingredients in your hands means you are planning a trip.” 

“Got it in one, hot stuff,” Dean says, tossing the lunchmeat and cheese into the cooler and closing the lid. 

Castiel tilts his head in confusion, and not from Dean’s insinuation that his body temperature is elevated (he gets that reference as well). “Is there a hunt I was not aware of? I thought Sam and Eileen were occupied with one, is there a  need for another?”

Dean snorted again. “The only thing Sam and Eileen are “hunting” - fingers hooking the air for emphasis, much to Castiel’s amusement - “is a good place to play ‘hide the sausage’ somewhere not where his brother and ex-angel boyfriend are playing the same game.” 

Castiel nods in commiseration - the Bunker may be isolated, but it is not soundproof. However - “What if a hunt comes up?”

Dean waves a hand dismissively. “Plenty of hunters in the sea, Cas.” He strides over to Castiel, placing hands still cool from the refrigerated items he was recently handling around Castiel’s neck and pressing their foreheads together. “We defeated Chuck, Cas. Let someone else handle the bit players.”

With Dean this close, Castiel can barely string together a coherent thought, let alone an objection. 

“I’ve packed beer, pie, condiments, sandwich makings, chips, and a loaf of the bread I made yesterday in there,” he says, pulling back slightly to tilt his head toward the cooler. “and clothes and stuff already in the trunk. Whadda ya say we hit the road, sweetheart?” 

Castiel stares into those emerald irises and can deny him nothing. 

“Where will we go?”

Dean shrugged, his thumbs caressing Castiel’s cheeks. “Thought we might head west, see what we can see. Get some coffee in Seattle, wine in Napa Valley, hit the beaches in Monterey, fish tacos in San Diego... I dunno.” He presses a swift, sweet kiss to Castiel’s lips, pulling back and leaving him wanting more. 

“Let’s just see where the road takes us. You in?”

Castiel nods dumbly. Of course he’s in. 

Dean smiles again, and with a brush of fingertips across his cheek, turns away from Castiel and ambles to the kitchen island, hoisting the cooler from the counter and heads out the door to the garage.

Castiel follows. He’s followed Dean to Hell and would do so again in a heartbeat if he asked him to. 

A road trip is definitely preferable.

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-08-06

♪ HS2 HS2 is baaaaack ♪

♪ HS2bloggin here we gooooo ♪

♪ Structural changes on their team but I don’t caaaaare ♪

♪ Already resooolved myself that its NOOOT gonna beee as good ♪ with inattentiveness to details characters like Terezi forgetting-what-they-used-to-know and an obsession with dwelling on traaageeeDEEE without relief-or-considering how weee’d feeeeeeel~ ♪♪♪ --so just gonna enjoy-what-i-caaaaaan about iiit~ ♪♪♪

Okay time for bankruptcy

> CHAPTER 11. History's Most Notorious Haters

Let’s see how effectively my perky new lowered-expectations attitude lets me enjoy this comic  *click*

wut

Oh.  so is this Dave drawing comics about current events or Regular Calliope doing so for our very first lanky look at her presumably-grown-up-more cherub form

> Knight: Keep it real.

HOLY SHIT IT’S DAVEBOT AND ARADIA

so we just get to SEE them?!  just like that???  no buildup or anything?  :D

Okay I’m marking out a little that’s a good sign.  Also what a nerdy cop-out to turn the roboteyes into glasses that’s barely passable which is perfect, the rest of his outfit looks pretty cool tho

DAVEBOT: and thats reason four hundred nineteen why despite my mans many accomplishments i will never acknowledge big skateboardings contrived message that tony hawk is the quintessential skater of our generation ARADIA: o_o DAVEBOT: not in these trying times

Good to see Ultimate Dave is being true to form with regards to the core of his personality

DAVEBOT: beep boop ARADIA: i have told you several times that i was a robot before and i know for a fact you dont have to say beep boop DAVEBOT: hm that sounds fake does not compute ARADIA: david DAVEBOT: mom

I was with this conversation until the last two lines what the fuck

(I’m reading into it aren’t I, Aradia was trying to be atypically proper -- even though she wouldn’t have the frame of reference to know without being specifically told that “Dave” was considered nickname shorthand for the human name David, and thus if she DID know there’s no reason she’d use it except to troll him -- and Dave’s just mocking her response.  Without any shame about his continued weirdness of calling people Mom, and by without any shame I mean he made the choice EXPLICITLY to intentionally evoke the awkwardness.  Wow I got a lot out of two lines.)

(Oh, also alt!Callie’s true Jade-body incarnation here probably prompted her to start using “David” by example.  There, various mysteries solved via a pile of assumptions probably to be disproven in the next couple lines I read.)

The Knight and the Maid stare at each other briefly, having exchanged enough meaningful glances over their time together to know when to drop it.

Would Time players have an easier time gelling this way, like this particular smoothness?  Dropping it just before it gets weird or excessively irritating?

(Overclasspecting)

ARADIA: i think we have exchanged enough meaningful glances over our time together to know when to drop this DAVEBOT: what i enjoy about our conversations is that you just say things like that

OKAY I SNRK’D AT THAT.  That was funny.

Initially.  And now I’m concerned whether Aradia is being controlled by the narrative-speak, or whether they’re both just humorously referencing the meta-text they can both see, or--

ARADIA: oh is that what you enjoy ARADIA: well we are both an infinite number of years old living countless lifetimes at once but thats no reason to waste any of our...

WHAT??!?  She’s an Ultimate Self too?!?

Um, okay!  Yeah!  So they’re BOTH just riffing on the narrative then.  But... why would Dave need a robot body to accommodate his Ultimate Psyche without getting sick but Rose not need it?  I can understand Dirk not needing it because the merging of the full breadth of his multiversal individuality gels well with him being a God of the aspect governing the power of his multiversal individuality, but Aradia?

Were the robot bodies not necessary after all, and the sickness Rose suffered and Obama thought Dave would have suffered some sort of ruse?  Are there shenanigans afoot?  (Or are we going with the “troll biology is better” cop-out?)

She knows how this will play out, having undoubtedly tried this joke on her friend in some timeline or another. Their rapport reflects a unique combination of their matching aspects but greatly differing classes. One a passive but powerful servant to time, the other wielding the aspect like a honed blade.

WH

WHAT????

PASSIVE SERVANT OF THE ASPECT?!? WHAT THE FUCK

Okay if that means anything like it sounds like I guess my class chart is finally blown up, sure, they only waited (*checks last edit date*) SEVEN AND A HALF YEARS TO BLOW THAT GUESS UP, SURE

Wow.  Okay, I feel some obligation to jump to conclusions and say the whole class chart is wrong, but let me stay strapped in to see if “passive” is as literal as one would expect alt!Callie to mean, or it just means “an active class passive compared to other classes”.  And, serving the aspect?  Oh dammit, now people are gonna come at me advocating a Maid / Page dichotomy about actively serving the aspect versus allowing the aspect to be served... or Page / Maid even, jesus

I wish I had enough energy to have those chats anymore.  I’d rather hold on and see the whole ridiculous chart scheme they have in mind... which is definitely (and hopefully) the one Andrew really drew up at the time and not made up by the staff, even if it throws away plenty of my old work...  I’ll just stop thinking about it and keep reading.

...

--no, I don’t think I can just stop thinking about it yet.  Dammit, brain.

So um.  Maids serving their aspect.  There was a whole “Maids serve” thing going on throughout the whole plot of Homestuck, but despite how prevalent it was, I wrote it off as the story riffing on the classical definition of Maid when the actual stuff Maids accomplished was something different and more specific, just like Knights constantly got riffed on for chivalry and the like.  Furthermore, service seemed like a really shitty class definition, when class definitions are the verbs one uses to interact with reality through Aspects to change the way reality unfolds, and “serving” isn’t really an action that results in change, implying a distinct deficit of agency that I wouldn’t have viewed as fair.  (Especially since you originally think “meant to serve others” and not “meant to serve the aspect”, implying even LESS agency.)  Furthermore, MOST passive classes from their descriptions seem to have a propensity to act “as if by the will of the aspect”, so even with the nuance of “serving the aspect”, devoting an entire class verb to service would just step on the territory of other active/passive class pairs’ passive sides, right?

But... IF we were to take this for granted as what it SEEMS... then concentrating on that angle of “serving the aspect” implies a whole lot more agency than a service class might sound on its surface.  The definition fits with the story better once you contextualize all the Maid-y references to service around Jane, for instance, with the additional idea of “serving Life” by baking prolifically and creating more of its symbols in food and--

--fuck.  “Serving”, like serving to others.  Serving the aspect as its attendant AND serving it out to others that need it.  Maybe this still IS part of the Additive class pair!  Whoa.  :O

Okay okay so, what I/we thought before was:

Create/Add - Maid / Sylph

Destroy/Reduce - Prince / Bard

But “additive” really isn’t an elegant verb compared to the “Destroyer” classes, so... could it be the “Servants” and the “Destroyers”?  Like Maids cleaning up and healing the broken wreckage strewn through the halls by a bratty Prince’s tantrum???

It’d certainly be weird... and it’d CERTAINLY be a wild twist where I was partially wrong in some fascinating ways but not entirely off base?

One a passive but powerful servant to time, the other wielding the aspect like a honed blade.

And yet, I can’t bet on this being the situation yet; not at all.  First, it relies on the idea that alt!Callie’s explicit narrative here is slightly misleading, which would be a pretty extreme thing to commit to, even for a technical truth like “she was saying it was passive relative to other classes even though it’s technically “active””.  Second... it would mean that Muses are even more wildly defined than the previous insinuation of hers, that the Sylph -- what we thought was the passive additive class -- was not enough like a Muse compared to a Witch.  Muses not being that Additive?  I could grudgingly understand that, but Muses not being anything like passive Servants?!  That would be EXTREMELY weird!

So... there’s not a whole lot of chance that I’m not dramatically wrong somewhere about these classes!  In a way that throws the entire chart into disarray!

I’m... oddly excited?  Huh.

That’s a pretty nice surprise that I actually feel that way.

:)

(Don’t hit me up all at once to discuss this Classpect development over Discord, I’ll still need a few days without talking about Homestuck to recharge as usual.  Like... maybe wait and come at me as a group chat? So I’m not talking about the latest developments separately with everyone?  No that wouldn’t work, how about... guh I dunno, look my outlook’s a little more positive right now but dealing with Homestuck still takes emotional energy okay?)

Okay the rest of this page...

ARADIA: ... DAVEBOT: time then make a weird face ARADIA: ........ DAVEBOT: waste time DAVEBOT: time ARADIA:............. DAVEBOT: i experience all points of time simultaneously please just say time and make a weird face

This is true.

ARADIA: .................. DAVEBOT: cmon megido youre killing me clocks ticking ARADIA: ... ARADIA: time o_o

The Maid casts a furtive glance around the empty crew quarters, as though to search for someone more sympathetic to her bit.

ARADIA: tough crowd

Dorks.

> ==>

(Lazy fruit-throwing sword-training I won’t bother to screenshot but looks fun)

(I mean, really lazy looking, these people really don’t have Andrew’s knack for action composition that would make the same amount of gif-creation effort feel like a microcosm of the event they’re depicting, unfortunately.  Again, I don’t blame them; Andrew was just too good at it.)

DAVEBOT: ok heres one DAVEBOT: how old do you think you are ARADIA: emotionally? ARADIA: that is a pretty heavy topic DAVEBOT: you know damn well thats not what i meant ARADIA: you know I have been through a lot dave DAVEBOT: ok ARADIA: its just so kind of someone DAVEBOT: ok i get it ARADIA: to finally ask how i feel ARADIA: i am beside myself with emotions ARADIA: i want to open up DAVEBOT: jesus christ ARADIA: shall i open up about my past traumas to you ARADIA: would you enjoy that ARADIA: to think even a frog like me can work through their pain with a dear friend ARADIA: you have truly blessed me on this day dave strider

Is Aradia JUST trolling here or is her Ultimate Self grappling with a ton of real unresolved trauma too that she’s bullshitting around Dave-style?

DAVEBOT: times fun when youre having flies

Okay that’s a damned good frog pun.

Alright now Davebot’s rapping

DAVEBOT: lacking tact i stay stacked while i breach contract DAVEBOT: sacred vows disavowed got divorce fever DAVEBOT: i leave her DAVEBOT: dont look back dont perceive her ARADIA: do you want to talk about it :( DAVEBOT: about what ARADIA: would you say you are hung up on leaving your wife and friends behind

Goddamnit is DAVE’S ton of real unresolved trauma leaking into his raps unintentionally Dave-style??  I knew we had to address it when we cut to Davebot but how about LESS TRAGEDY IN THIS COMIC MAYBE

DAVEBOT: arent you even a little guilty about ditching your boyfriend ARADIA: what ARADIA: oh fuck

Wh

But she knew what she was doing when she did it she explicitly did it didn’t she?  Epilogues quote:

DAVEBOT: what about your boy DAVEBOT: eyepatches ARADIA: oh sollux is in one of his moods ARADIA: this was all getting to be a bit much for him ARADIA: if i go ill probably just cut him loose DAVEBOT: good move

And then they stepped through the sky hole more or less.  Did like, distracted Ultimate Aradia not realize exactly how long she was leaving Sollux for, ie forever?  Or did she “ascend” to Ultimate status later and hadn’t thought back to the full consequences of her actions within this timeline?  Or both?  From the looks of the link we’ll probably find out on the next pa--

--Wait.  Something else I just thought of, unrelated.

If Aradia is an Ultimate Self, that’s another coincidentally Ultimate version of someone hanging around that happens to be on the prospective list of Soul-Powered Jujus that might have their creation loops closed in the coming story.  Could those two things play into each other somehow?  Like instead of their souls getting stuffed into the items, their “Ultimateness” is?  Or as if that’s a necessary component, or...  no, I’m probably overthinking things.

> (Months in the past, but not many...)

Uh huh.  Is that flashing because he’s “watching” Aradia leave?  But I thought Aradia SAID she was leaving--

> (==>)

--and that black hole portal doesn’t look as cool as it sounded in the Epilogues.  But why was Aradia acting surprised, she said “I’ll probably just cut him loose” mere MOMENTS before entering the portal, did she mean “cut him loose” as in “I’m going to talk to him before leaving” and then just IMMEDIATELY forget that she didn’t say anything to him because she cared so little???

Wait.  Waaaait wait wait.  I think.  I think maybe I missed some subtext.  Lemme do some fuller quotes here:

ARADIA: oh sollux is in one of his moods ARADIA: this was all getting to be a bit much for him ARADIA: if i go ill probably just cut him loose DAVEBOT: good move

His gaze remains fixed on her. She blinks and looks away, unsure what to say next. He’s standing perfectly still, presumably waiting for her to say something. She met him... what was it? Once, twice before? She can’t remember. But she knows this is a very different Dave. Aside from the metal skin, he seems implacably confident. But then, people go through changes. She’s been through more than her share. She cocks an eyebrow, recalling her own stint with a metal body.

DAVEBOT: hey earth to whats your face ARADIA: oh ARADIA: its aradia

[...]

DAVEBOT: youre coming DAVEBOT: better decide quick i doubt that dank fuckin hell funnel is staying open for much longer ARADIA: yes i suppose so ARADIA: thats where all the action is right? DAVEBOT: all the action that matters yeah ARADIA: off we go then :) DAVEBOT: word

He holds out his hand. She looks around, and assumes he means for her to take it, so she does. She didn’t know someone could fly this fast. He nearly yanks her arm out of its socket. She considers reminding him that maybe this isn’t necessary, since she can fly too. But she doesn’t want to risk saying more embarrassing stuff around this outrageously cool dude. Besides, they’re through the wormhole before she can even finish the thought. It vanishes the moment they’ve crossed.

...this was a SHIPPING thing wasn’t it.  She’s impressed as hell with Striderbot, she SAID she’d cut things off with Sollux, and then she was so busy being swooped off her feet and into the portal that she forgot to actually say anything to him.  Is that what happened????

Ultimate Self Davebot x Ultimate Self Aradia.  Huh.  Didn’t see that coming.  (Though, again... they could make it SLIGHTLY clearer that this wasn’t just a blatant continuity error.)

Anyway, a rare-don’t-get-used-to-it [S] page...

> [S] (Gaze.)

...Okay that was kinda funny.

> (==>)

SOLLUX: h0w the fuck am i g0ing t0 get d0wn fr0m here.

HAH!  Okay, he’s taking it pretty well.  :)  --and THAT’s what she realized she forgot, giving him a flight down from the tower before leaving.

GOOD.  KEEP THINGS HUMOROUS EVEN WHEN LITERAL ABANDONMENT IS HAPPENING.  THAT’S the Homestuck I was missing.  :)  :)  :)

> Back to reality.

(Since the black hole is outside “canon” reality.)

Those are some cool poses-AHAH JESUS CHRIST ALT!JADE YOU LOOK ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING XD

COULD YOU MAYBE HAVE CLEANED UP THE DRIED BLOOD AT SOME POINT OR IS SOME OF THAT FRESH FROM EATING MORE RAW MEAT

(Lord English’s blood leaving permanent timeless bloodstains would be a cool new thing to squeeze into canon i admit, i wouldn’t blame them for taking the excuse even if you could find small canon counterexamples I’m not sure of but dimly think might exist)

((ALSO SHE’S GONNA BE TINY NEXT TO THEM I DUNNO IF THAT MAKES IT MORE TERRIFYING OR LESS, PROBABLY MORE))

DAVEBOT: so youre telling me you dont even feel a little bad that you ditched him to be a weird death acolyte ARADIA: no i think he found my wiles both charming and irresistible DAVEBOT: not even an ounce of guilt or self doubt huh DAVEBOT: just like that DAVEBOT: no conversations about the greater good DAVEBOT: no revelations about your feelings

Is Aradia a jerk or weird?  Can’t decide.

ARADIA: do you often find your faith in yourself shaken like this or is it a new experience now that your mortal coil has been left behind DAVEBOT: what ARADIA: do you think now that all that is left of you is a literal ghost inside of a machine you are more or less likely to embrace finality DAVEBOT: oh dope more cult of one shit DAVEBOT: immortality changed you ARADIA: could it be that you are projecting your feelings onto my situation DAVEBOT: does not compute rose jr ARADIA: ... ARADIA: we dont have to talk about it DAVEBOT: thanks

Wow, I actually can’t follow this conversation at all.  Let me stare at it for a sec...

...okay, the first part she’s talking about DAVE’s faith in HIMself being shaken, not her own.  She’s not asking if he relates to HER experience, she’s contrasting it.

Then, asking if he’d be more likely to embrace death, or... Time?  Death.  Whether his self-worth has changed because he might view himself as “less real”, something Aradia doubtless struggled with when she was a robot who already had so many excuses to devalue herself at the time?  And then Dave talks about “cult of one” shit what does that even mean-...

OH.  Like she’s a death cult.  Gooot it.  Because Aradia’s of the position that death and ending should be celebrated, and Davebot understandably isn’t entirely bought in.  This is as hard to parse down as one would EXPECT conversations between two Ultimate Selves to be hard to parse down, unlike Rose and Dirk where their insane missions and glaring flaws shine bright enough through it all that you can follow their conversation flow easily.

JADE: They sit in each other's presence, the silence between them as meaningful as any words they could exchange. DAVEBOT: its always really cool to hear how meaningful my silences are DAVEBOT: especially while DAVEBOT: CALCULATING DAVEBOT: CALCULATING DAVEBOT: especially while i am attempting to experience them

Alt!Callie pulling a narrative-text AFTER a talk-identifier like “JADE:” is really hilarious in my opinion.

JADE: i do not need your approval. the story will continue how it must. DAVEBOT: beep boop hater detected ARADIA: wow is that true JADE: i am not a hater. DAVEBOT: classic hater line DAVEBOT: i know this because i am pouring through genuine actual quadrabytes of information on historys most notorious haters JADE: no, you aren’t.

Pffffff. This is pretty fun.

DAVEBOT: you are the exact opposite of a hater ARADIA: a liker DAVEBOT: ok DAVEBOT: perfect example your tolerance for whatever is going on with DAVEBOT: all this ARADIA: i think she looks quite lovely covered in the viscera of the all-powerful enemy she consumed ARADIA: floating lifelessly in our periphery ARADIA: observing our every action and noting its relevance :) DAVEBOT: uh huh thats what i mean

I was gonna note “liker” as additive for pointless classpect purposes, but really more quoting it just because I really enjoy this conversation.  I’m starting to get sold on the chemistry of these two a lot faster than I expected.

JADE: even though I understand that it must happen, i am growing frustrated with the direction of this conversation. DAVEBOT: do you want to talk about something else stinky JADE: what would you suggest?

How long has that dried fucking blood been on her

DAVEBOT: ok hear me out DAVEBOT: kanaya DAVEBOT: but like DAVEBOT: wearing huge jorts

That explains Homestuck’s twitter earlier

> Weeks in the future, relative to the original point of interest...

Wait wait which point of interest?  This time we were just viewing? *click*

I love what must be this shitty imagination-ship they’re using to cross the substrate of reality

> ==>

Whoaaaa.  So they DIDN’T stay in those outfits for long?  It showed them in a bunk bed earlier, it showed CallieJade still going around blood-covered afterward-- dammit, I’m having a hard time gauging exactly how much time is supposed to have passed between their entry into the black portal, their earlier conversation, and this moment.  And as likely as some are to call this poor scene composition, I can’t think it’s anything but intentional, given we’re dealing with a couple of Ultimate Time players bullshitting with each other.

Moments like these are not rare, and serve a valuable function to the story. They are able to show a passage of time with the bulk of the emotional labor of a lengthy bonding process happening off screen. How did we get here? What have they been through? These questions are often better left open to individual interpretation and can give the one interpreting a sense of ownership of the story.

See?  We’re being trolled is why.  (Even if the authors are pulling the trick Alt!Callie describes maybe a little too damn often, because a cut like this where we’re supposed to fill in the emotional gaps and intervening events ourselves as readers depends on readers’ faith that sensible events and decisions for these characters would OCCUPY the gaps, as if readers don’t have faith that what intervenes WOULD make sense to their understanding of the characters the way the authors are writing them... it just seems like an excuse to do whatever you want without adequately explaining yourself, when in reality if you’d spelled out the events that led to it we’d all cry foul at the mischaracterization.)

...okay, maybe I’m a BIT bitter.  Sorry.  Where were we?

JADE: As a point of curiosity- ARADIA: oh shit!!!!

The dead Cherub possessing the body of an equally deceased Goddess of Space pauses at the interruption.

She doesn’t talk much, then?  Too busy doing whatever talking you’d do as your other possessed Jade body?  Just how temporally related is you controlling THIS Jade compared to when you were controlling the other?  When that Jade pegged you as enjoying contact with friends, are these two just not enough for you, or did you “experience” the trips entirely separately?  I don’t THINK the alt!Callie possessing either Jade is a separate entity from the other, but...

Were she to voice her opinion, it would be that --actually-- it is not unusual for those whose primary concern is The Grander Scheme to have a passing curiosity about the insignificant. So when one really thinks about it, any annoyance with the attendant’s small mindedness is both understandable and warranted.

She pissed

...also, “the attendant”.  Even if “serve” is really the verb here, that phrasing really irks me as if she’s talking down to her.  Which, I mean, makes sense for alt!Callie’s character, but doesn’t make me feel better about this new definition being foisted on us.

ARADIA: :( JADE: as a point of order, you never answered dave’s question. ARADIA: which one he is very chatty JADE: you experience time in a way that is woefully unfamiliar to me and it has... piqued my curiosity enough to learn more. ARADIA: ?_? DAVEBOT: shes asking how old you are

Wait a minute, is Alt!Callie asking a question about a dropped topic from WEEKS ago?!  And is Davebot so in touch with Time and the meta ordering of topics that he actually CAUGHT ON that fast to what she was actually wondering about?????

This is getting more disorienting by the minute.

ARADIA: in this form our bodies stop aging once we reach maturity i think ARADIA: the god tier keeps our physical form locked in a state of undying ARADIA: even in death the bodies do not decay ARADIA: only lay dormant

THAT LAST PART IS FUCKING IMPORTANT.  It’s being brought up intentionally to tell us that JOHN’S DEAD BODY can still be in the wallet Terezi’s carrying around RIGHT NOW without having decayed over the past years.  I remember remarking in SOME previous HS^2 liveblog post of mine that I was alarmed by the decay that would have happened there (can’t find my remark on short notice and don’t really care to), so this explicitly dismisses it so we won’t be surprised by the fact that she could keep it in just-dead condition.

DAVEBOT: like how long have you been alive JADE: yes, that one.

[...]

ARADIA: oh maybe a few hundred years or so DAVEBOT: what JADE: what? ARADIA: well if i had known you were going to be so judgy about it DAVEBOT: when did this happen ARADIA: oh i spent some time in other doomed realities and timelines and came back before anybody could tell i was gone

Hm!

We knew she spent a LONG time in the dream bubbles, enough to talk to “pretty much all of the Nepetas”, but she was actually able to access a universe or universes and hop between them?  That’s not something any time traveller we’ve seen has been explicitly able to do intentionally before, quite like she’s describing.

DAVEBOT: oh just out for a bit of fun then DAVEBOT: just hopped on over to a different reality DAVEBOT: real casual like DAVEBOT: oh hello dont mind me just popping in to see if it really is as doomed as they say it is DAVEBOT: did not disappoint ARADIA: yes almost exactly like that :) DAVEBOT: who did you hang out with are they cooler than me ARADIA: it is complicated to explain DAVEBOT: oh ok nevermind then DAVEBOT: all clear

Yep, he’s kinda bewildered.  Is this Pesterquest stuff she’s referring to?  Did she stop by Pesterquest?

DAVEBOT: a whole alternate universe ripe with the coolest motherfuckers imaginable ARADIA: you were there too i threw your air conditioner into the sun DAVEBOT: wow thats fucked up DAVEBOT: thats not where that goes at all JADE: these events are not-canonical. ARADIA: rude

Ah!  Yeah, almost certainly Pesterquest.  (Still haven’t played that and have little inclination to now that I’m more sure we aren’t being gaslit with intentional continuity errors, just disappointed by actual continuity errors.)  Oh!  And that makes a bit more sense because I imagine that’s Black Hole territory, and that territory outside of Canon seems pretty rich and easy for time-travellers to hop between stories and timelines willy-nilly.  As they’re apt to in fanfics, which is the most appropriate way for things to be in that realm!

DAVEBOT: is that the trope of being hundreds of years old but looking young forever patently sucks ass DAVEBOT: a plot device an asshole would write ARADIA: :( JADE: that is not what i am trying to say at all. DAVEBOT: hmm wow yeah thatd really be a sort of pot/kettle situation i guess DAVEBOT: i cant believe im the only woke one here DAVEBOT: its hard being such a visionary AND such a fine metallic specimen DAVEBOT: but im an altruist first and fucking foremost ARADIA: so selfless JADE: yes, the greater narrative is truly blessed by your beneficent presence. DAVEBOT: oh so you got jokes now huh JADE: i have always had the ‘jokes’ of which you speak, but i have heretofore exercised restraint in laying you low. JADE: i possess knowledge of many of your iterations, as the scope of my powers allows me to exist in several narrative structures at once. DAVEBOT: but can she see why kids love the sweet cinnamon taste of cinnamon toast crunch JADE: i do not know, or care, what that means. ARADIA: neither do i :)

I’m actually really enjoying this conversation

JADE: its cultural significance to you as an earthling is wasted on the two of us entirely, as we have not conflated the misguided notion of clinging to nostalgic cereal advertisement trivia with socially relevant conversation.

Pff she literally checked her meta notes just now to learn what the cereal ads were after admitting she didn’t know what it meant and pretending not to care

> ==>

Oh, closer look at Davebot.  Are those actual SHAPED shades over his robotic eye bulges?  Weird, I thought it was just a lazy line drawn between them with red sharpie at first, Sans style.  That would’ve been funny.

> ==>

Ohh, I get it.  I was gonna say that was an unwarranted reaction... but he just realized that the Time-wait puns will be coming from BOTH his shipmates from now on.  That’s gotta be a downer.  :)

> ==>

HOLY

FUCKING

SHIT

IS ALT-CALLIE LAUGHING!??!?!?!??

That’s REALLY, REALLY GOOD!!!  SHE’S ALREADY LAUGHING OCCASIONALLY THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY

“BEST NARRATOR” COFFEE CUP

SHE’S ADORABLE

> ==>

Ah, was that Jade kicking you out?  Or just the multiverse punishing you for being briefly happy :(

--oh, end of the update.  Guess that’s it for now!

...

Alright I know I’m A BIT BEHIND on covering the HS2 commentary,

But

I really would rather wait on that a bit longer if that’s alright.  Real busy and stressful week or two.  (Found out my hair is starting to thin noticeably at age 31!  Quite suddenly, too.  Blood test looks fine so it’s nothing serious... gonna see a doctor to check if anything can be safely done about that, it’s really hurting my self-esteem more than I thought it would.  Didn’t think it would hit my emotions that hard when it eventually happened, knew it was likely but not so SOON... really messing with my anxiety every time I accidentally touch my hair, now.  I’ll deal with it.)

If I sound really aimless in this post, I think it’s cause I am?  My mental and emotional energy’s REALLY drained.  I’m glad that June/July break in HS^2 happened when it did, and I’m definitely glad there’s apparently plenty in HS^2 I can really enjoy, if this update is anything to go by.  Maybe this comic can help lift me up instead of knocking me down.  :)

See y’all later!  More Patreon commentary blogging catchup after some other upd8.

[courtorderedcake]

Roses : A CS retelling of ‘Tam Lin’ chapter 3

 Hi, everyone! Thanks to @kmomof4​ and the extremely talented @eastwesthomeisbest​ for their patience on this. As usual, thanks to @ultraluckycatnd​ who I would be lost without, the woman is a monster editing machine, and super beta. I live for my updates from her. Without further ado, here is my laaaaaaaaaaaate contribution to @cssns​​.  It's been a while, hasn't it? I promise you it was worth it.Smut a'heckin'hoy! Two other things : This will be updating between MTFB and Hallow, as well as my CSMM ficlet. It also gained another chapter. Secondly, this chapter is MASSIVE. I tried to cut it down but it just didn't work right unless it was altogether. I promise you the smut fest was worth it.

Read on Ao3 right here, darlings!

Chapter 1/5 Chapter 2/5 Chapter 3/5

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

The Soldier is feverish, when he falls upon the land of Carterhaugh. They have returned uneasily to the house, or the Lady has, her husband belongs to the forest more than she does. Her son teeters between both worlds, and with nothing to mother or care for, The Soldier becomes a welcomed friend. As he heals, and The Lady finds herself in his warm company, he becomes more. He learns how to tend to the Gardens with The Lady. She teaches him to talk to the birds, to sing to the plants, how to keep things green and blooming, and eventually how to touch them to illicit responses.

Eventually, he learns how to touch her, as well.

The Lady does not age, and as more war looms on the horizon, The Soldier finds he has only aged slightly. Where he should be gray, he has retained his youthful glow. When he asks, The Lady admits the truth about her family.

She tells The Soldier, about her son, about the Lord of the Wood, and about herself, The Lady of Carterhaugh. She begs him to come with her, to let another war rage on in the outside world, and to give himself to them. She asks him to join their dance, but not as a dancer, as a player with a role. She asks him to keep her tied to the earth, to the green that lives outside the darkness in the wood. To remind her of what she was leaving.

And The Soldier agrees. How can he refuse her?

It is his fault when she fades, no matter how much he tries. It is his fault that she is gone, and still remains.

His banishment is blessing and curse. Even still, when he hears the bells, he must answer the summons.

-·=»‡«=·- 🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹 -·=»‡«=·-

-·=»‡«=·-🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀-·=»‡«=·-

Two weeks Earlier...

Killian has never liked the forest.

It's not for a lack of trying, and there is a level of bias involved, he will admit. A more honest statement is that Killian has never liked this forest, this particular forest down the hill from Carterhaugh. This accursed, twisted, blight on the land; sitting just close enough to the sea for it to have caught him in its gnarled fingers. For it to have caught them. For it to have changed Milah so much that imagining being a 'them' feels a lifetime ago.

Killian could remember her voice before it became cold and empty. He'd noticed their change, his ears pointing slightly the longer he stayed in her palace chambers, his canines becoming slightly sharper the more he ate of their food, his thoughts becoming colder and emotions numbing. The strange way time passed, and his promises to himself that he would contact Liam the next day, sending word once and then forgetting. It wasn’t him.

He tries to process these changes when a description of war to the Lordling makes Baelfire smile in wonder, an eerie and unsettling gleam there at the words of how many lay dead in trenches. It does not work then, or later. It's not as bad as the secret of their youth settling in his gut. Close, but not enough to end the longing for the taste of his beloved's neck.

There are more times than not he thanks the stars he is banished, even if banishment as an immortal is cursed and tedious work (or was), because what would he be now if he had stayed? The same sort of creature who lets mortals throw themselves at their feet for sacrifice?

Milah had reasoned with him that at least it was willingly, that at least Rumplestiltskin let them choose a life of bliss if they came, and it gave them a way out of the terrible situations they came from. Killian wasn't sure, the humans coming through looking too sick, starved, empty, or adrift to seem actively aware of their decision.

He'd accepted it numbly, even as his Milah had hurt him and others in affection. Her eyes had become sharp and cooled to a tawny color, hair flowing with invisible wind blown tentacles, cheekbones too sharp, skin too pale, nails too long, ears pointed and stretched. She no longer tasted like rum and lavender tarts, but of copper and earth. Her love making left him raw and scarred, and he'd tried to not drown in her tempestuous moods, clinging to his acceptance by her. Even when she had forced his want against his will, balking at his shame, he tried. When it became something she forced from him without mercy and in cruel humor, he retreated into himself.

Baelfire's disappearance and the note he left behind had been a mercy. When Killian’s head had cleared in the empty halls, Liam was long dead, and the Jones family long gone. He could return to Milah and beg for her forgiveness and her love, but without Baelfire that was never going to happen. He would instead be signed away with the house until Baelfire returned.

But Baelfire is not returning. Baelfire is never returning. Baelfire is lost, because if he isn't, Emma could not be there with the key in her hand.

Emma is there instead, and Killian will stop at nothing to keep her safe. He would never let her be lured to them, had taken great strides to consecrate the grounds, and had fiercely guarded her so many nights when he heard their songs call from down the hillside. It is the bells that he can't ignore, while everything else that had once been wondrously alluring now falls flat.

"You're in for it now," an amused voice calls from the wood as he steps past the threshold. The Green Fairy is there, her smiling face unlike her cousins that now dwell in what she claims was once her people's lands. No one knows what is true other than the King, and he surely isn't going to reveal anything of value. Thus, The Green Fairy torments who she calls the false denizens, wreaking havoc just for the fun of it. "She's in a mood today, the wind brought down strange tidings when it whistled through. She believes that you have let an imposter into her dominion, banished one."

Killian laughs at that, bitterly. "Are you sure it's me she's angry at?" He asks, pointing to her satchel, the huge blooms of crystalline flowers from the royal gardens barely hidden under the leather flap.

She smiles coyly, batting her eyelashes. "You didn't see me, and I didn't warn you?"

"Fair enough." He grunts, and she slips away with a wave.

She navigates the forest supernaturally, disappearing somewhere they cannot follow, in between trees, behind tall stones, more than once offering him escape with the caveat of being unable to return. At one point he had sought her for comfort, his despair at banishment leaving her pitying, even after she professed dislike of males in most species. She had given him her name, Tinkerbell, and he had tried not to laugh or offend her but failed miserably. Despite all of her kindness, she was quick to anger, and no longer ventured close to the house.

Twigs broke as another creature approached, this time someone unwelcome and familiar. He was close to the castle now, the trees and mossy floor moving around him, drawing him in as they shifted.

"Look who thinks he can come into our domain as he pleases!" a voice called, a Faery named Regina giggled, appearing by his side and slipping her elbow through his. Her long, deep red talons brushed against his sleeve.

"I have an announcement for the Queen that involves sensitive news."

Another giggling voice, this time like an ooze that made Killian feel uncomfortable and unclean. "Oh? Do you Dearie?" Rumplestiltskin drawled, a chair with him sprawled in it materializing in the gloom, the palace springing up around Killian. "What have you to tell my queen?"

Milah sat in the throne next to her scaled husband, her expression reading nothing but boredom.

Killian cleared his throat as the court appeared in different puffs of smoke, anxiety heavy on his shoulders. "Your Majesties, this may be a private matter -"

Rumplestiltskin laughed at that, and Milah stiffened in anger. "You dare tell us what our court is fit to hear -"

"Quiet yourself," Milah hissed, interrupting her husband's mocking. "Is this in regards to our son?"

Rumplestiltskin's face paled as Killian nodded once, Milah giving a thunderous clap of her hands. The palace moved around them again, Milah plucking silver flowers from trees to put in a basket.

"Tell us how he fares, and if he was well met! When will he return?" Milah exclaimed, and Killian let his heart ache for the woman she had once been. He steeled himself, Rumplestiltskin's demeanor ashy and nervous. Killian briefly wondered why this news would be alarming, but shook it off.

"The owner of Carterhaugh has returned, the woman who you saw before does indeed rightfully hold the key."

"That can't be right, she must have cheated or tricked him for his -"

Killian interrupted, shaking his head. "Queen Milah. She was married to a man named Neal. She has no idea who Baelfire is."

"Then we'll kill her and take the key, and when Baelfire returns -"

"I have come here to formally end our accord. I want to be with her and end my watch on the lands, as agreed, my Queen," Killian said calmly, trying not to betray his fear. Milah looked at him in shock, the silver of the room making her seem as if carved from marble, an angry goddess sent to smite errant worshippers. The force of her slap sent his head wrenching to the side, her eyes a deep black.

"You dare to spurn my gifts? You dare to ask for a reprieve from your post? And you dare to ask this of me for the foul creature who may be holding my Baelfire captive?" Milah seethed, her hand shooting out like a viper to grab his chin. "You are mine, and your punishment is befitting of how lucky you are to be mine. You should be grateful!" Killian pulled away from her as she tried to dip her tongue in his mouth, shaking her off. Her mouth tasted like cold, wet earth and sickenly sweet rosewater.

Killian felt bile rise in his throat, but swallowed it back to yell. "I want nothing from you, and will take nothing! Baelfire is -"

"Do not finish that sentence!" Milah screamed, and the world shook, dark fog again returning as trees formed from the mist. "Begone from my realm. I will call to you when I have made a decision, but for now your presence repulses me."

The fog lifted, depositing him at the beginning of the forest in the rotting clearing, his boots beginning to wet from the boggy groundwater. Taking a deep breath of air, he began the long trudge back up to Carterhaugh.

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Present day, post kiss

Sex had been a divisive and troubling prospect for Killian with the Fae court. Their psychological and physical abuse as they edged him for days, left him bleeding or bruised with no thought of soothing his skin or aftercare, and the degradation he begged not to consent to with disregard to any pleas he uttered had left him cold. In his exile, he rarely touched himself, and rarer still had any desire to do so.

The Fae world that originally poured vibrancy, milk, honey, and untold treasures had grown into something crooked that corroded and burnt any life. Even after his banishment, his exile did not return the colors they had taken, life left muted and gray.

Emma was an explosion, too bright at first for him to look at, and then a fire that he could not hope to seek refuge by. She would burn him, blind him, or he would snuff her out, let her smolder down to ash.

When she kissed him, neither happened and it was fireworks that did nothing but heat his body, light magnified. Emma was not a fire, but sunshine after too many long days of rain. She filled him with hope, illuminating the world again to push away the gray and reveal the hues he had lost.

When she fled, it was an all encompassing dread that filled him. He had realized that he was in love with her far before, but had been content for the cloudy summer days she brought him, peeking bits of color here or there to sustain him - her affection and attention like watering a withered flower.

Now it was alive, facing the sun happily, and it was like a sword through his chest when she took it away. She would leave, leave him in this house with its halls and secrets, leave him with the ghosts of the others that left. Killian texted her frantically, called her both through the door and over her cellular phone, tried to see her from his balcony, and had sat in the darkness staring at the lit screen of his own phone when no reply came. That was all the answer needed. The first bottle of wine was choked down in the kitchen, a bottle of cheap cabernet meant for cooking. He had asked Emma for it, had asked her for everything really, to cook meals they could share together. Eating alone, drinking alone - how could he go back?

The buried bottle of whiskey in the solarium was meant to be for Baelfire's return, but Baelfire would never return now that Emma was here with the key. He was gone, lost somewhere in the human world. If Killian had asked to pursue the lost boy's trail, if he hadn't waited in this tomb of a house, would things be different? The whiskey is smoky, a burn of fire inside him that licks his insides along with his self hatred. There is nothing more in him besides regret. Regret for not saving Baelfire, for letting Milah transform into the monstrosity she had become, and for Emma - everything he touched turned to dust. He was poison.

The emerald bloom of a flower he doesn't recognize is blurred in his drunken vision, but the thorns are sharp enough to make him curse as he bleeds over the strange petals. Even the solarium rejects him, his laugh bubbling out despite his hatred of everything around him.

Wandering the halls with another bottle in hand, he can't remember where this one was stashed. It's an old bordeaux that is wasted on him and dropped carelessly in the hall, probably hidden by Milah for some celebration - there were too many nooks and crannies in Carterhaugh stuffed with something, be it drink, memories, or ghosts like himself - it's not hard to imagine being as dead as he feels himself longing to be. Milah had warned him of this fate, her heel on his throat as he gasped for air.

"There is no escape from us for you Killian. Accept this. You are mine."

She had beat him bloody, used him until he felt hollowed out, carved clean of any kind of emotion. Breaking him took time, and she had more than enough of it. Depositing him at Carterhaugh in banishment at the end of her torture had been the hardest withdrawal he had faced until now, imagining Emma leaving him here when he had done all he could to heal. Maybe he deserved this hell; after all, the Fae were a form of damnation.

This torture was the worst and most effective the devils could have used. He was left blind now, her light too much up close, left to wander in the dark for his attempts to see her. In a room he doesn't immediately recognize as he stumbles through the door, there is a cool armoire that lets him crawl in like a beaten dog, the moth eaten linens inside serving as a soft cocoon around him. It's blissfully dark and enclosed, a coffin for the phantom he is. He should not accept becoming a ghost again, but in truth he should not have accepted a lot of things.

It might be best if he cut out his heart and buried the burden of it in the garden after all; to be blind, heartless, and complete his own transformation into the damned spirit of Carterhaugh. Maybe then the next owner might have pity for him, and he could forget about the losses that make his chest ache.

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The quiet stillness that settled over Carterhaugh when Emma padded to the kitchen was oppressive, the smallest movements tensed as if she were a thief in her own house. It felt wrong to be here, the change in atmosphere reminding her of when she had squatted in a museum's unfinished exhibit space for a few weeks, the edge of always being caught like a predator she knew lay just outside her peripheral vision. The difference was that she had caused this change, brought it upon herself by being careless and selfish and naive. He was gone. The absence of another presence was like a vacuum, and it sucked the life she had worked so hard to put back into the giant house without mercy.

No, that wasn't quite right. She was a ghost in this house because it was him she rebuffed. Others could come and go, but it was Killian who had actually made her feel like the building had a soul.

Touches of him were everywhere, even in her own decisions. She spent breakfast wrapped up in one such choice, his preferred coffee mug warming her hand under his preferred blanket that smelled like him. There was no one here to judge her if she wrapped herself in what was gone, or cried bitterly into her drink. There was only her. Only Emma, lost girl, left again and again.

Lunch rolled around faster than she could have anticipated, watching windows as she tried to convince herself to do anything but look for signs of him. His room was unslept in, bed made and tidy. It struck her as so entirely him, the lines of the crisp sheets creased with care, and she laughed out a strangled noise. He had cared about her, and she should have told him that he was cared for too. Laying in his bed, wrinkling the smoothed linens and holding his pillow tightly as she curled around it, her heart ached with unsaid admissions.

When he came back, she would tell him. Emma willed herself to have courage and take a leap of faith just this once, to trust that he would come back. He had to come back, and when he did, he would have to let her tell him the truth.

A spiteful voice slithered in her ear, its words making her lungs constrict.

He doesn't have to forgive you for pushing him away.

You don't deserve it.

Emma was tired of not deserving what she so desperately wanted. She had wanted a family, friends, safety, a roof over her head, trust, and love for so long. Fighting for those things after being let go from foster homes, after living in abandoned places, after the house with too many doors that haunted her nightmares, after Neal's destruction of her trust, after her forced committal and subsequent release, after making a family and making friends who she knew cared - Killian could be something new if she just let him in to try.

He had proven himself worth it time and time again even before her kiss, a kiss she now dreamt of in his bed. She could hear him, his mumbled and worried voice full of concern he shouldn't have over her, wetness drenching her cheeks from tears cried into his pillow.

Time is a wheel, and it turns and turns and spins and whirls as it pulls Emma along with it. It's as if her eyes are covered in gauze, her smile feels forced but she also craves having her lips upturned for him. When she is alone, completely and blissfully alone, she examines the confines of the ring that surrounds her. In the silence, there's clarity. Emma breaks it with whispered words she repeats to herself. The feel of them on her lips gives her hope, as if she can beat whatever this is by practicing the magic words that she longs to say.

'No.'

At one time, he had told her with his grin (too sharp, she can see it now, his teeth are sharpened and too white) that people knew better than to say no to him. She had done so with correction (he had called it correction when his hand met her face, or torso, or wherever he could reach with the open palm, then closed fist) and then by choice, not realizing what she had given away. First her name, then accepting all of his hospitality, giving him the power of her voice and will, and then letting him lure her into his ring completely. It glittered on her finger, too bright, overwhelming in its gaudiness. It's a wonder that she hadn't known and hadn't seen it behind the glamor.

Emma wonders idly if this is madness, if she's gone insane or broken to a mental fracture. Every time she sees him now in his true form (with the long fingers, the hair that moves sometimes as if in an invisible wind, his pointed ears and sharp teeth, the cold steel eyes that seem to glow, the carved angles of his face casting deep shadow) and cannot control her actions fully or fight against his will, she fears that her mind is lost. When people that aren't made of the glittering marble look at her, do they see what she once saw? Do they see a beautiful vision of a happy couple, that seems to exist outside of reality? Are they able to see how her face strains and her fingers spasm, all in attempts to claw at her face?

She knows that Neal and his kind can see the truth, even as hard as she tries to hide it. She knows that Neal is quick to take her hand in his (too tightly, as if to break her fingers) to still the tremors. She knows that Neal will kiss her (He always tastes of wine and honey, but now there is an aftertaste of something old, something gone sour and bitter, it makes her tongue feel as if she has licked an old battery covered in wet earth) to cement her smile.

The more she tries to break free, the more he presses down to keep her under his thumb. He grips tighter, beginning to take away the freedom of her silent reprieves by never leaving her alone. Emma can hear him in the next room, hear what he is doing and can hear the other woman as the purple haired beauty watches her with amusement.

'In the olden days, they warned you mortals not to dance with us,' She purrs, her warm colored skin ice cold when she curls to take a selfie with Emma, 'Say Hi, Emma. This is for my Instagram page, TheSeaBitch - Hey unfortunate souls! Ursula here, with Emma Gold, the it girl, hit girl, socialite you all want to be! We're reminding you to come out to Atlantica to dance this Friday, first drink is free and no cover for you other it girls. Come on, dance with us!"

Ursula twists the camera, and Emma's mouth moves on its own.

"Please, come dance! I could dance forever…" Her voice sounds foreign, but as Ursula presses a button to close out the video, she giggles while changing the filter.

"Great job, Emma. Neal will love this, after he finishes with her make sure to tell him that is our next ring." Ursula's cold fingers pinch Emma's cheeks, pushing her lips out into a pout as nails dig into the skin. Emma does not wince, even as the sharp pang of it hits her. "You have truly been such a perfect little thrall. I bet you'll be the one he chooses as his first attempt now that he's ready."

Emma grins, not understanding what that means, only happy to please. Her nose begins to bleed. Ursula looks at her with a too wide grin, the noises finally stopped in the room she cannot and does not want to see into.

Neal walks out as he finishes buttoning up his pants, his shirt open and tie slung around his neck. Emma stands dutifully as he approaches, carefully smoothing down his shirt, buttoning it and tucking it in his pants, then tying his tie. She can feel his eyes on her, watching the gentle trickle of blood slide down her face. He kisses her hungrily, the taste of copper unwelcome to her even as he groans, his eyes fluttering closed. From behind him, Emma watches the woman leave through the door, looking confused and dazed while she adjusts her skirt, Neal still pushing his tongue down her throat.

'I didn't want to do that, Em.' He whispered in her ear. She pulled off his lap in the car, adjusting her dress and then attending to cleaning him. 'I had a deal I needed to take care of, that's all. You're special. I know you are struggling with this, but I am keeping my promise to you - we are going to run away together, have a family, live in happiness. I just need to get things in order to make sure it's perfect.'

Emma stares, looking at him carefully. The air in the car shifts, as if a gust of wind has forced past the partition or closed windows.

'I don't want this Neal, I don't know what you've done to me, or how, but I don't want -'

The sleepy feeling of comfort rises again, a smile creeping up her face. Her head is so heavy, and Emma lays it in his lap as he strokes her hair, curling it around his fingers with a kind smile. He is so good to her, isn't he? So wonderful…

It echoes, again and again, how much she loves him, and how wonderful it is to be loved by him. How grateful she should be. He takes her shopping, her previous dress wet and stained, dressing her like a doll until she's perfect to stand at his arm.

They dance at Atlantica, the bright colors of outfits and gleam of sparkling fabrics among bubbles that fall from the ceiling makes Emma feel as if they are underwater.

(Part of her feels as if she is drowning)

Ariel and Ruby come, they appear as if they are parting the sea with their presence. Emma tries to tell them to flee with her slow blinking and blurry gaze. They don't. Neal is delighted when they dance with them, and when they drink. Emma watches them spin in circles while her feet step in choreography she can't control.

That night he presents her with the emeralds, the circle cut necklace, the bracelets, the earrings - the green so bright it seems as if it's a growing plant. Emma holds it in her palm, feeling it pulse, feeling it dig into her hand as if it wants to fuse with her skin. It whispers, and Neal whispers with it.

(It says, 'I am the ring of green mantle, I am the double rose with biting thorns!

I am the wands and I am the maidenhead!

I am everything that takes root, that will snap, and that will break forth!')

(Neal says, 'I'm ready. Let me show you the dark wonders, and the many terrible things. Let me have all of you. Let me have you, give me life from you, and from me.

Let me take you to what will be our home.')

(It sits heavy on her chest, just below her clavicle and between her breasts, whispering without pause. It is clear what it wants, it is clear what he wants, and Emma will not give him this. The whispers curl like worms, they crawl over her and make her itch. It laughs at her when she thinks about contraception, cackles when she thinks about her birth control pills taken religiously when Neal sleeps.

It tells her they won't work. It tells her that she should be happy. )

Neal takes her hand, and they step out of his car. It's different, less ostentatious, the neighborhood they are in is dark. The house looks shabby, a window boarded up and a wilted chain link fence covered in rust so foreign to her now, it pushes a memory of who she used to be up from the depths of her mind. She was on streets like these before. She fought. She punched back, made her own fate. No fairy godmother's, no fairies at all. No one saved her except her.

Rage prickles down her spine, sweat beading at the nape of her neck.

Ariel and Ruby step out of the car behind her. They look tired, almost asleep on their feet, but with happy smiles that make them look drunk. Emma knows they aren't drunk.

They stepped inside the house, it's dark wood paneling smelling like cigarettes and dust, the linoleum as they walked into the kitchen peeling. The cupboards are crooked and an old fridge hums when they turn beside it to go down to the basement. The wood stairs squeak under their steps, until her foot connects with white stone. They walked further, until Emma first sees the house for what it is - The house with too many doors.

Neal twirled her, laughing, and through opened doors she sees the shivering women with their blank stares. He spins her into him, and she feels the press of him against her, his breath on her neck. Her fingers curl closed, nails biting into her palms as she tenses. Neal rocks her, slowing as he turns her to look at him with confusion.

"We're finally ready. You're ready, and I," His grin infectious. It made her stomach turn. "I found you. You are so beautiful. You are so perfect for this. I made you, and you will make for me, in turn."

The rage under her skin heated to fury. No one has made her anything, and she is not this. She is not owned. She will never be owned. She isn't nothing. She has never been nothing!

She is Emma Swan, and she is not about to be shackled into this prison.

"You're… Why aren't you smiling, Emma?" He asked.

Emma blinked, touching her face. She wasn't smiling. She was frowning. Her eyes narrowed, watching Ruby and Ariel shuffle into a room. Neal touched her cheek, pushing her gaze back to him.

"Emma," Neal gritted out, his face contorted in fury. "Why aren't you smiling?"

Emma didn't answer, her hand gripping the emerald necklace by its whispering pendant and jerking it off of her neck with as much force as she could. It shrieked at her, she was sure she heard it scream, heard the cry of it like some horrid changeling infant.

She ran, ran to the steps, Neal on her heels just behind her. He caught her ankle and yanked, they fought on the stairs as she kicked at him. Her fingers dragged along the wood, splintering the boards. Another strong pull and her head landed hard on the cool rock, dizziness taking over, Neal looming above her as darkness began to bloom in her eyes.

'Oh, Emma.' Neal said with a nauseating fake tone of concern. "What ever shall I do with you?"

Emma tried to turn her head, tried to turn away from him, but she couldn't move as he dragged her.

"Emma. Oh, Emma." He tutted, her hair wet against the stone, her fingers tracing the trail that followed behind her. "Emma, Emma, Emma." He sighed.

"Emma," it was sighed, more exasperated now, but so much gentler. "Swan, you need to get up."

Emma blinked awake with a deep gulp of breath, sitting up to find a red eyed and bleary looking Killian watching her on the edge of his bed. He looked as terrible as she felt, which should not have made her heart warm as it did.

"You're here? You're back?" Emma whispered, and his sad smile at her brought more tears to her eyes.

"I didn't leave. I got a bit…" He blushed, sheepishly scratching behind his ear. "I got a lot drunk, and ended the night sleeping in another room. A closet, actually. I just woke up."

"A closet?" Emma asked, trying her hardest not to laugh, even as her eyes misted.

He chuckled nervously. "An armoire, actually, if we're being technical."

"Semantics," Emma teased, gently, an awkward silence following the way they fell back into easy conversation. Swallowing hard, Emma scooted over to his side. "Look, Killian, I -"

"It's alright, Swan. I overstepped, and I need to put my feelings for you aside." He shrugged, even as Emma gaped at him. "I shouldn't have kissed you, it was inappropriate and -"

"I kissed you, Killian. I was the one, and - Wait," She blinked, trying to clear her head. "Did you say that you have feelings for me?"

Killian nodded once, sagely. "Aye, lass. I do. I won't act on them again -"

"No!" Emma blurted, her hands finding his. "I want - No. I have them too. I don't want - I didn't want you to leave, and I thought you -" She paused, and he gently stroked her knuckles in encouragement as she met his penetrating gaze. "I've been abandoned so often. I was scared to let you in, to feel all of this so strongly, but thinking you left…"

"If you'll have me, darling," Killian whispered, his arm moving to bring her into his embrace, "You have no reason to fear I'd ever leave your side."

Emma laughed, happiness and a sense of joy flooding her veins as she looked up at him from where he held her against his body.

"I am so sorry for freaking out. I'm sorry for -"

"Apology accepted," Killian interrupted, kissing her forehead. "You needn't have even one, You have -you had an aversion to touch, and I -"

"Can I kiss you again?" Emma asked, surprised how breathless she suddenly felt.

Killian grinned, shaking his head. "No."

"Oh," Emma let out an exhale, trying to not show her hurt. "I just thought -" Killian held up a finger to silence her, tracing it along her lips to the apple of her cheek where he cupped her face. His eyes crinkled at the edges, the blue of them light and clear of worry despite their redness. He leaned closer, licking his lips, whispering against the corner of her mouth as she gasped.

"Because, darling, this time I am kissing you, if it's alright."

Emma nodded, swallowing hard. He pressed against her, and she molded herself to him, half wondering if it was a dream as her hands curled behind his neck. Her tongue slipped along his bottom lip until he was moving his head to deepen the kiss, his own tongue tracing hers while she let out a moan. This seemed to spur him on, his teeth joining the exploration as he gently bit on her bottom lip, her body grinding into his with sudden need. When she returned the teasing nibble, his answering groan made her shiver while they broke away for air.

"I think," Emma panted out, smiling at Killian's darkened gaze and mussed hair. "I like this whole you kissing me thing."

"Good," Killian smirked, his mouth trailing kisses up her neck as he pushed her back to lie on his bed. "Because I am not going to stop unless I bloody well have to."

His hands roamed her body over her pajamas, her eyes falling closed in bliss when he moved to cage her body and kissed her senseless again and again.

"I've wanted this for so long, Emma," he murmured, holding her as they lay together under the covers, her head resting on his chest. "You're beautiful, and everything I could have wanted. I thought - I thought I had ruined everything -"

"Shhhh," Emma murmured, rolling herself onto his chest, her legs straddling him. She had felt the sweatpants covered heat of him against her thigh before, but now it twitched back to life underneath her where her own warmth emanated. Killian hissed, his eyes widening. "This is a happy beginning."

Leaning down and hungrily kissing him, she pulled a wrecked keening noise from his throat when her hips rolled against his. His hands clutched at her ass, and she let her own fingers wander, splaying a palm under his waistband. He gasped when her warm palm lay against his hip bone, pulling away to search her face.

"Are you - Do you want to? It's just fast -" He let out a groan when her fingers stroked down against the heated flesh of his thigh. "Say that this is alright, Emma, because we don't have to -"

She silenced him by removing her loose top and bra, his gaze raking over her body more than appreciative. "I want this, Killian. I want you, all of you."

"Then you shall have it, love." He grunted, pulling her down to press hot kisses up her neck. He sucked on an earlobe and she whimpered, heat pooling in her belly. Frantically, Emma helped him rid himself of his clothing, kissing down his chest while her clever tongue found his nipple. The kisses turned more wild and possessive as they rolled, her body ending up over his. His cock jutted proudly against his stomach when she sat on her haunches, looking him up and down. The coil in her belly felt tight already, but the idea of his considerable size in her made it burn with want.

Emma let herself go, giving in to what she so desperately desired.

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Emma sat looking at him with lust hazed eyes, the green darkened to a stormy sea glass. Her body was perfect, her breasts bare above printed shorts and some lacy garment that had matched her discarded bra. He had felt the silky softness of it when tracing her hip bones, but now as she took off the shorts covering them his breath caught at how positively sinful they looked against her creamy skin. They did little to cover her heat, and as she shimmied out of the other garment he could see how they framed the globes of her ass perfectly. The wonders of this new world did not cease to surprise him.

Killian suddenly felt self conscious, realizing that her touch was driving him mad quicker than he wished.

"It's - ah - been a while since -"

"Me too, me too, but we'll go slow." Emma tentatively licked the large vein that throbbed under his skin, sending all thought scattering.

"You don't have to -" he tried to start as she lowered herself into a position better suited for her exploration. Braced on his forearms, he watched her smile up at him teasingly, pumping him a few times with a loose grip that he rutted into slightly.

Fae women were cold and calculated when they'd joined him, Milah growing fond of pain, but this was heaven in every sense of the word. Gods above he was a fool to not see that sinful smirk and not know Emma was perfect, fucking perfect -

Licking up his length, she bobbed and he lost all thought; his head falling back as his hands gripped the sheets tight enough to make his knuckles go white. Her mouth was so warm, sucking and swirling on the head of his cock then bobbing down to his base. He wanted to buck, but resisted to stay on the sword’s edge of pleasure, only thrusting upwards when Emma's tongue danced along a sensitive ridge.

"Em - Emma -" Groaning, he pulled her up, kissing her roughly, nipping at the corners of her mouth. Her moan tasted like warm honey, tongue guiding him into a gentler and slower pace that unraveled the rest of his thinking, the pads of her fingers nimbly finding his cock again. Killian gripped her hand firmly, pulling away from her lips to chuckle darkly under her ear. "My darling, I want this to last. I want to taste every inch of you - and you're making that incredibly difficult."

Her voice was wrecked and came in small pants, much to his satisfaction. "You did say," Emma let out a little moan as his hand found its way past her navel, "You liked a challenge."

"Mmmm." Killian left wet kisses in a trail down her neck, the bite right under her collarbone causing her hips to buck, and letting his fingers slide past her pushed aside silky underwear. The fashion in the modern age had never once been of interest until now, his other hand pulling down her shorts to reveal the barely there wet fabric his fingers swiped through.

He groaned and Emma ground herself down on his fingers, with a slight gasp that made him ache for not being between her thighs already. Her walls were velvety around his fingers as they slipped in and out, curling them he could feel her neediness as he wound her up, thumb rubbing circles before withdrawing his soaked digits. Popping them in his mouth as she watched, grumbling expletives at him for leaving her so close, she whined at his groan of pleasure at her taste. For a brief moment his eyes fluttered shut, her scent and the taste of her on his tongue both too much and too little. Emma looped her own wet fingers around the base of his cock and his eyes shot back open.

Killian pressed his lips hard against hers, hungrily and frantically desperate to feel her body against his. Pulling clothing aside to help her wiggle out of those blessed, beautiful, frustrating, underwear, then she was sinking down on him and he was praying to the stars behind his eyelids that he wouldn't spill right then and there.

He thrust up in ecstasy, pressure building as she ground her hips down, so tight and wet and perfect. She was perfect, he needed -

Lurching forward, Killian pulled Emma tightly to him, hugging her close and changing the depth of his strokes.

"Killian, please!"

"Oh, my love, you have no idea how good you feel, how much I need to hear you say my name just like that. Do you want to come with me, my darling?"

"Yes!"

"Good Gods, please - Please, tell me what you need -".

Her hand led his, his fingers working her as she tensed. "Killian!" Her nails bit into his back as she moaned into the juncture of his neck, everything condensed to a fluttering tightness as his own release chased just behind hers. The hand that clawed at his back gripped him tighter reflexively while her body tried to hold him everywhere they met.

She rolled her hips, his head falling back at their last jerking movements, bodies shuddering together in embrace.

"You are bloody spectacular," Killian whispered, leaning back again carefully, cradling her against his chest with his other arm. "Magnificent."

Emma smirked. "I couldn't tell, you give absolutely no praise or direction."

"Be fair Swan, you must understand that I never thought to do this, and I never believed that you would return my feelings."

"Me either. I suppose I could settle for you though." Emma's smirk turned to a smile of bliss, a late aftershock rippling through her when she adjusted, attempting to pull away. Killian made a keening noise, eyes falling shut as he bit his lip and she rose again, just slightly in exquisite torture. She could feel his once softening member twitching inside of her still, and she moved in a slight shift again. Already sensitive from before, his thighs quivered. The Fae could be thanked for his better than average recovery, at least. Decades of their brand of torment had one silver lining.

"Emma, I - fuck."

"Your begging? That was sexy for me the first time, so let's see if we can move past this being a one time thing. I am hoping with practice, thorough practice," Emma rolled her hips in a tight circular grind, earning a string of expletives as Killian’s back arched again, "We can make it an every week thing."

Flipping her as she squealed, he slowly started to thrust into her as she moaned.

"Start small, work our way to twice a day?" he grinned ferally, withdrawing in a slow pull to push back in at a teasingly languid pace.

"Whatever you want!" Emma whimpered.

His breath was hot on the shell of her ear, fluttering starting in her belly again. "Then we probably should make sure that our form is perfect, too."

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Emma found Killian making coffee, hugging him from behind with her face pressed into his back. Nuzzling against the thin cotton shirt, her hands dipped to splay along his hip bones. He made an indecent noise between a purr and a breathy moan, turning to pull her against him in one swift motion. Hips rolling into her, he hoisted her up into his arms.

"A man can't get a moment's rest around here, Swan." He grinned as he pressed her against the wall. Kissing her roughly, and forgetting about their breakfast until the clock chimed noon.

"You are just as insatiable." Emma smiled, untangling herself from him on the floor of the library. His bark of laughter and gentle poke in her ribs brought a grin to her face, her stomach rumbling loudly against his cheek.

"I suppose I should make something for you to eat." Killian whispered, rubbing his scruff against her navel. "It's only fair when I've had seconds of my own."

She hummed, offering a hand as she stood, leading them both toward the kitchen.

Weeks passed like this, intimacy laying itself over every aspect of their routine and relationship. Emma moved into Killian's suite at some point along the way, a vanity added to the corner while her bathroom products were gently reorganized by Killian much to her chagrin.

He made it up to her with enthusiasm, his tongue making her toes curl into the sheets as she rode his face. Hearing him moan into her folds and grip her ass tightly sent her higher and higher, up into the clouds. Even more pleasure came from watching how it affected him, if she turned to watch his cock leak, or his hips twitch upwards with desperate need for friction.

When she moved to swallow him with the same abandon he gave to her clit, he practically screamed. His whimpered breaths and puffs of hot air made her clench, until he was throwing her aside, eyes wild and face a mess of her own wet slicked juices.

Emma reveled in pushing him into a sort of frenzy, making his eyes go almost black with lust and his lips curl into a carnal smirk while filth poured from his mouth - with slight pushing Killian seemed to forget the prim and shy gardener in favor of becoming wild, animalistic. The things he whispered in her ear, as he licked up her thigh, in the soft nuzzle of one of her breasts; they could be soft and flowery, or erotic wishes that made her cheeks flame and heat lick her core.

Nowhere in Carterhaugh was too sacred to keep them from each other.

In the music room, light streamed in as the curtains lazily danced in a chilled breeze, Killian's hands threaded in the halo of her hair, setting a rhythm as he thrust up. His thighs spread further, shakily, while his other hand grappled at piano keys, playing a loud accompaniment for his groans as she bobbed her head and sucked him within an inch of his life. Feeling him send a rush of his hot cum down her throat while chanting her name made her feel pride, his protests at her interrupting a practice forgotten by both.

His hands felt amazing on her skin; the rough calluses from his hard work in the garden circling her nipple, while his soft lips followed behind could practically make her come on the spot. Emma would catch him watching her through the haze of their fucking, half lidded eyes looking up at her while he let his nose lead a trail for his lips to follow. She loved the way his palms kneaded her thighs, or pulled her up roughly, or splayed on the small of her back when he took her from behind. In the solarium he draped himself over her body in a possessiveness she hadn't ever known, torturously grinding against her to turn her into a writhing mess. Killian had chuckled into her shoulder when she had begun to whine in her throat, his hands gathering hers in a stretching thrust that made her see stars.

The way he mapped her body, admitting his memorization to her earnestly, his fingers stroking lazy patterns through the sheen of sweat on her stomach - it should have terrified her. She should be running, should know better than to stay and let someone pull down her barriers with not only sex, but with every part of their presence.

A snow storm moved in outside, both of them knowing the other well enough to know the edge it brought to their nerves. Killian made tea, while Emma chose a movie and created their blanket fort over the couches in the den. They lit candles together, the power going out as it always seemed to in heavy rains, but it was fine when they were snuggled together with warm mugs watching the screen of her laptop. Or, in Killian's case, watching her. The mugs were pushed aside, going cold while the movie played for no audience, the two preoccupied by their own rising needs.

His hands held her bouncing breasts, massaging them as she rode him with a deep circular grind that made both of them feel electric.

"God's above, oh - oh my darling - do you know how good it feels to have your sweet quim tight around my cock? You're going to make me come undone my love, please don't stop!"

Emma was being lit, flickering herself, wanting nothing more than to combust. "Close, close again, ah! Ah - Killian, I'm so so close -"

With a hiss, he moved to be above her and she lost the heat of him inside for the briefest moment before he was filling her again. He looked unearthly in the candlelight and occasional flicker of electricity, his chest hair against her nipples and the softness of the blanket underneath her a perfect combination.

"I can feel you, I want to feel you come - bloody hell , love, I - fall apart for me, fall for me, just like that," The hoarse whispers echoed through the room, the cords in his neck as strained as the groans tearing from his throat. "Good God's, Emma , just like - fuck, just like that!"

Her body shook, muscles tightening and fluttering as a fire that burned away everything but ecstasy consumed her. She was aware of the half scream she let out, but with everything pinpointed to the pulse just below her belly, she was more conscious of Killian chasing his own release with abandon.

He grunted, the hard thrusts using her weight and his muscle to ease the fury of his pace, her legs pulled over his shoulders to hold her flush and bent. She heard him utter a string of curses, the clear sign he was close, his formality falling away. Every aftershock and subsequent clenching as her body tried to hold him earned a gasping moan practically torn from his throat.

"Fucking hells, Emma - I'm - God's Emma, you feel so bloody amazing - so fucking good, Emma, yes," The word came out with a hiss, the 's' sound long in his mouth, his eyes pressed close when her hand snaked to stroke the sensitive skin below where they were joined. She squeezed, feeling the tightening in her palm as his body drew up, the vein pulsing under her thumb. " Emma , Emma, I fuck - Fuck !"

She felt his hips stutter, heard his cry, and then he was filling her with erratic strokes. Emma attempted to soothe him, the whimpers and guttural pants sounding almost pained. Lowering her legs to wrap around him, and her arms embracing him around his neck and shoulders, she peppered his face with soft kisses while the pads of her fingers ran over the lines of his muscles. His head fell, bowing from her ministrations, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck as his weight pressed down on her.

"Am I crushing you?" he whispered after a moment.

Emma shook her head, her fingers raking through his hair. His sigh of contentment and the feeling of his eyelashes on her collarbone filled her with another sort of weight instead.

She felt safe.

Not only safe, but cherished. When had anyone ever been so tender and treated her like this? Sex aside -

(No, not sex. Not fucking. He loves you, he loves all of you : body, mind, soul and heart. You know this isn't just sex and that you can't go back - )

His lovemaking aside, Killian cared about her more than anyone she knew. His love and affection were everywhere, like dust motes in the air. Sometimes seen, sometimes not but still present, and other times catching the glints of sunshine he brought into her life, valuable and precious, like gold leaf or diamond dust.

Stranger still, was knowing that Killian knew she cared for him too. There was an understanding that they both had rough edges, they both had secrets that lurked just out of sight, neither of them wanting to examine them closely. His scars and his gentle questioning that accompanied his careful touches or the way he flinched if she moved too quickly changed their relationship for the better. Emma felt his ease afterwards grow, the worry replaced by trust. On more than one occasion Killian had mentioned in quiet mumbles that his last partner had been too rough, averting his eyes.

On more than one occasion, Emma had taken his hand in her own, whispering that she understood. When she told him he never had to be ashamed around her, he scoffed, rubbing at his eyes.

"I mean it Killian," Emma waited until he turned to look at her, his face inches from her own. His eyes were wet, the blue the color of an overcast day. "I choose to see the best in you, no matter what. Whatever you have done in the past, the acts committed by you or against you, I know who you are. You could never be the villain to me." He allowed her to kiss his cheek, and curl into his side. Emma basked in the gentle embrace as his fingers traced trails down her hip bone.

He treasured her, Emma began to believe.

She was a treasured thing, falling fast and headlong into disaster, but didn't care about the consequences when that feeling was bestowed on her so liberally.

Even if more terrifyingly, she had slowly begun to realize that she, too, treasured him.

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To say that Mary Margaret Nolan was perceptive was an understatement. David and Double Ems had been Skype calling her almost every day since they had left for Christmas, as if they were looking for something. When nothing had happened the calls had tapered off slightly, until a few days after Emma and Killian had begun whatever it was that they were doing.

It was if Emma had writing on her forehead her friend could read, her eyes scrutinizing every detail and the questions becoming pointed. Finally, Emma had gotten an invitation to a big announcement from Mary Margaret, in which Killian was invited. When Emma booted up Skype, Mary Margaret's face greeted her, but her eyes were searching for someone else.

"Where's Killian? Did he not get my invite?" She asked, the accusation clear in her question.

"Look, about that -" Emma began, but Mary Margaret shook her head, scowling. She actually looked angry to Emma's surprise.

"I cannot believe that you stupid oblivious idiots don't realize that you not only are pining for each other, but you are perfect for each other, and he is head over heels -"

"We're dating, Mary Margaret." Emma admitted, begrudgingly interrupting the tirade. Seeing the look on her friend's face, Emma groaned. "Don't make it weird, but I really like him -"

"Ha!" Mary Margaret craned her head to yell across the room. "David you owe me 20 bucks!"

"No, really? Ugh, gross," David shouted from somewhere she couldn't see.

"Invite him on camera, I want to see him! We miss him!"

"You miss him, I want to question his intentions with Emma - " David grumbled, walking past in the background.

"Does he know about…?" Mary Margaret trailed off, her eyes searching Emma's face on the screen.

"No. Kind of. He knows something happened but not the details. I haven't told him about the psych ward, the fire, and Neal." Emma chewed her lip, wondering how Killian would react to her past, her hallucinations of the house with too many doors, her paranoid delusions about her friends disappearing, the fire she thought she had caused - would he still accept her knowing that she managed an illness so severe? Would it change the way he looked at her, from adoration to that smothering gaze of pity she got from everyone else?

"Are you going to? Because if you slipped back into that psychosis -"

"Eventually." Emma said, cringing at how fast the half truth slipped off her tongue. Mary Margaret's eyebrows rose, her lips pressing together. Before she could object, Emma pointed off camera. "I'm going to go get him, please don't talk about it when I get back, OK? Please don't go all Psychologist on me, I promise I'll tell him, but on my terms and later on. I'm not ready yet."

"Oh Emma," Mary Margaret sighed, her face softening. "Of course."

"I'll be right back."

Killian was waiting for her in the kitchen, handing her a hot chocolate as they settled in the living room and loaded Skype on the television's screen.

"Hi Kill - Are you both seriously in a pillow fort?" Mary Margaret asked, leaning in to her computer so her eyebrows took up the frame. "Oh my God, that is too cute, David look at them -"

"I told them to be cool about us dating," Emma grumbled, Killian letting out a snort of laughter as he kissed her cheek.

"Hello Nolan family, thank you for the invite to this, er, announcement." He blushed, and Mary Margaret giggled again. David sat beside her, finally coming into views she backed up.

They practically glowed together, David relaxing immediately when her head rested against his shoulder. Looking at where their own mirrored image was displayed on the screen, Emma could see Killian’s loving stare, her face in a resting contented grin. She looked - they looked -

"So, this announcement. I'm sure you've probably figured it out Killian, but my sister is completely oblivious to almost everything, it seems." David snickered as Emma protested, Killian laughing along with Mary Margaret.

"I might have," Killian admitted. "Congratulations are in order, I believe?"

Emma blinked, staring at Mary Margaret and her bright smile. She glowed.

To say Emma wasn't perceptive was an understatement. Her brain clicked, but she could not push the words from her mouth in surprise.

"Double Em, you're -"

"We're pregnant!" She laughed, David kissing her as Emma stared at them in complete shock. "We did some calculations, and it looks like, um," Mary Margaret's blush deepened. "It happened very likely at Christmas, most likely -"

"You -" Emma stammered, her own face reddening. "Seriously? You guys conceived in my house?"

David laughed at her grimace, before they were all laughing. Emma found herself curling into Killian’s touch, listening to her brother and Mary Margaret's plans for what they were going to do with a nursery, and how she was feeling, how they'd found out (a fainting spell during grocery shopping, of all things), the call stretching on as they simply enjoyed each other's presence. Killian traced his fingers along her back, pulling her to him immediately once the call was over and she had shut down the television.

"Mary Margaret says David and her are sending us a gift, which I'm a bit afraid for. She mentioned to me last time that they found these garden gnomes, and David thought it might spook you because you don't like -"

"Gnomes are not traditional Fae folk, at least not here. They're bloody Scandinavian, and only go after those who smell of unwashed feet." Killian sniffed, annoyed, holding her tighter. He let out a hum of pleasure when she turned to sit in his lap, eyes half closed while he stared up at her. "You're so beautiful."

Emma giggled lightly, feeling warmth in her chest and a lightness that relaxed her further. She yawned, and he followed slightly after, both of them curling into the pillows that made up their fort.

"Hey Killian?" Emma mumbled, exhaustion catching up on her.

He replied in a slow, groggy, hum of a question.

"You think you could be happy like that with me?" The question hung in the air, and Emma wanted to regret it, to take it back as her eyelids drooped.

"I think I could be anything with you, Emma," He whispered into her hair, falling to a low murmur. Her eyes blinked close, longer and longer. "I'd be happy just like them if not more. Enough to never need to compare. Incandescently happy."

The warmth Emma had felt earlier settled on her skin as she drifted asleep in his arms.

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Happiness felt strange to Emma, no real comparison to be made in the fleeting moments that it stayed in her life. She had thought she was happy, though worry and doubt had plagued her. She had wondered why others accepted happiness as it being the end all be all; hanging their joy to hitch their wagon on. Now, she knew.

There was a slow summer laziness to happy contentment, even in the early spring chill. It was as if happiness rolled over her, laid over her in a warm blanket she only wanted to burrow deeper into. Killian was tender, sweet even, his gestures so different than she had ever known. Her one night stands or Neal's rough uses for her had never shown any level of care Killian did, even in the smallest of actions. He kissed her shoulder every morning, bringing her coffee while reading her the news in their bed. He knew how she took it with more sugar than cream, knew how she sometimes needed time to forget her nightmares, and knew without needing to be told that probing the issue was not something she wanted.

I'm his eyes, she swore she could see something akin to understanding. It was too terrifying to bring up yet, but he seemed to read her. How he figured out how she had no idea, but Emma desperately wanted to hope that maybe he would listen. Maybe he would tell her she's not insane.

Maybe he knows about the darkness, about being adrift over pitch colored seas that have no end, no fathoms of depth. Maybe he knows what it's like to ride out waves that crash and claw through daily life, as if they were ships in the night passing close now, so close. As long as she doesn't ask where they're going or what lies below they can be fine forever, but for once Emma didn't want that; Because there is something that lurks, It lurks in his eyes and warnings, something scares him that he can't say, and it's the first time she has found another lost soul. She has found someone she empathizes with, her own monsters behind locked doors bursting at the hinges. He might take comfort knowing he isn't alone.

For all she knows, he might know of houses like the one Neal took her to. He might have seen places with too many locked doors, might have had too many missing friends, coworkers, neighbors, and acquaintances, might have wished to bite his tongue off than say anything but 'No' ever again.

And as she watches, she finds herself wondering if he might be the one she'll let herself sink into, not worrying about a destination any more as she simply enjoys the peace of floating in this current, no longer afraid that there might be monsters in these depths trying to pull her under.

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Summer tore through Carterhaugh's halls in a heatwave that made Emma thankful for fans and the installation of central air. Killian didn't notice the sweltering air, but she made it clear she felt free to notice him. Where she had blushed and her eyes had shied away before, now she was free to ogle without reservations. If he made more efforts to keep her eyes on him, he could always claim coincidence.

"I noticed before too, you're not exactly stealthy, Swan." He'd grinned into her jaw, kissing softly as they finished the final window of the main rooms. The stained glass lit the room in fire hues, as if the wooden floor was licked with a visible sign of the heat. Emma had been dressing much more delectably in turn, short trousers and tops with no sleeves that showed off how defined her arms were. Occasionally they had no straps, or fell just below her breasts baring her stomach and midriff.

When they lazily made love in the shade of the tree outside, blanket on the grass, it was easy to convince her to bask naked with him in the sunlight after. Emma was a marvel, a wonder, and she was his. Everything about her was like magic, her eyes finally full of trust when she looked at him. She was his, and he knew that meant all too soon she wouldn't be.

The bells came as July rolled through, Milah summoning him down to the wood. The house was finally finished, and Emma was exhausted. They had eaten a light lunch before she had fallen asleep on the couch, lost to the world in a well deserved nap. Kissing her forehead, he rolled out of their bed to stand before the Fae Queen's judgement. Emma stirred lightly, the whisper of his name sweet as she hugged a pillow with a sigh. It bolstered him, his feet carrying him quietly down the hill under the dark sky.

He could hear the hunt before he was even more than two steps into the forest, Tink running past him, then turning to run back with a smile.

"They are in a mood today, Killian!" She laughed, greeting him with a wave as she giggled. Somewhere to his right, he heard Regina bellow, the whinnying of her steed a shriek. He sighed, shaking his head as he continued deeper. Tink pouted, walking backwards on her toes with small little hops. "Killian," She whined, "Aren't you going to ask me what I did and why -"

"Why is it every time I have to kneel before the throne, you have agitated the hornet nest that resides on it?" Killian growled. She blinked, her pout turning to shock.

"I - I'm sorry. I try to distract them, and I have to keep the forest at bay…" She mumbled, looking down.

"All you do is make them angrier!" Killian gritted out, his jaw twitching. "I don't care about the forest, I just want Emma to be safe, and you -"

Tink straightened, her shoulders tightening as she stomped toward him. "I'm trying to help you, you dense - you idiot - you cabbage brain!" She sputtered, her face going red. "The forest spreads when Milah sees you, her avarice and wraith twisting the land further. I'm trying to keep you and your mortal lover safe. I'm trying to distract them!"

Killian blinked, his mouth falling open. "I didn't -" He stammered, trying to apologize. Tink shook her head, looking to where approaching war cries grew louder.

"I have to go. Just know that I have been trying to help you and this forest since… Well, forever. Neal wasn't your fault, and Emma, she -" The hoofbeats drew closer, and Tink took a sideways step towards a copse of trees. With a flick of her wrist they curled into an arch. "This place is cursed. I wish I had the time to explain, and I wish you would come with me. I'm sorry."

She took a leap through the arch, disappearing into nothingness as the horses swept through the clearing. The wind whipped around him, mud spraying his clothes as the horses passed. Regina cackled, the shrill noise falling away into the night as they chased their tails. He pressed on, the wood shifting around him, revealing how true Tink had been. Vines with thorns the size of his hand curled around dead trunks of trees, branches stretched crookedly to claw at the sky. The grass grew in black or a deadened white, no creatures stirring or making noise. The palace shifted, leaving him at the entrance, briars and strange shivering plants that snapped dripping jaws at him.

An audience awaited him when the throne finally appeared before him, the glinting silver, diamonds, opal, and glass blinding him momentarily and the jeers of Fae deafening him. Milah sat on the throne with her legs crossed, lapis lazuli and silk dripping off her body. Gold sat beside her, his tunic and breeches seemingly made of golden thread, adorned with jewels. Neal's empty throne lay empty, a red fur lined cape draped over it.

Milah stood, taller still, her features even sharper. Her lips twisted in a sneer as he knelt, the crowd booing louder. Milah raised a hand and they grew silent.

"I've thought about your proposal, and I know that you are not telling untruths, because I cannot march to Carterhaugh and kill this usurping tart myself." She drawled, clearly annoyed.

"Milah - " The crowd jeered, but Milah swept her hand toward the crowd.

"Silence!" The room fell silent again, and she stepped down towards him. "That said, regardless of previous arrangements, I request that you end our accord."

"Thank you," Killian sighed, even if the crowd voiced their upset. "You don't know how -"

"Sign it in her death blood," The crowd cheered, and Milah grinned widely. "Then you may go free."

"No!" Killian reached for Milah as she turned away, the guards moving forward from his peripheral. Shouts and cursing echoed around them at his loud refusal. "Milah, No, I won't let you -" An apple hit him on the shoulder, raucous laughter beginning while the crowd followed suit. Rocks pelted him as he curled into himself and sat, covering his head and face. He heard Milah's calm voice hush the crowd again.

Her heels clicked on the stone, nails digging into his chin and neck to raise him up. He struggled slightly, her strength unsettling, but her eyes worse so - cold and dead.

"We need a sacrifice, Killian. Do you dare deny me that which is my right? My duty?"

He rasped, her claws pulling free. Backing away, Killian coughed until he could manage a lowly growled whisper. "You shouldn't be sacrificing anyone to that thing. It's changed you, all of you. Please. Milah, I loved you. Now my heart belongs to another and she is… She's everything."

Milah's face pulled taut in rage for a brief flicker, disappearing into an almost convincing aloof shrug. "You have swayed my choice then. It will be you."

"Mí, please -" Killian tried again, taking a step forward, but she was in front of him in a flash.

Silver tendrils of lightning moved around her, crackling in the air, her eyes and skin gleaming an emotionless metallic.

"Do not address me like we are still lovers. Like you still come to my bed, and still ask me my desires. It will be you, or it will be her. You have offered yourself as her replacement by refusing to follow my directives." The stands that held the crowd began to smolder, Fae fleeing in all directions. Killian covered his face with his arm, staring at where Milah was bathed in bright light that made the air ripple in heat. "This shall be your last year."

There was a thunderclap that made his teeth rattle, then Milah stood back in front of him, her features carefully schooled even as her chest heaved. They stared at each other, Killian seeing her for the creature she was.

"October then?" he asked. "I have until then without your games?"

"Yes." Milah answered simply, returning to lounge on her throne.

Killian nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "Fine. That's… fine. I'll enjoy every second of that time with her."

"Enjoy it," Milah spat, the facade of boredom failing completely. "Enjoy every second with your human whore."

Killian practically ran from the woods, clambering up the hill like a madman. As soon as he stepped foot through the doors of Carterhaugh he felt the curse shift. He almost fell to his knees in relief, wanting to weep at this newfound freedom, but then Emma was flicking on the light in her bed clothes looking at him in fear.

"You were gone, and I thought - I just knew you wouldn't - but I've trusted before and…" Her voice caught, eyes widening as he stepped forward to sweep her into his arms with a spin.

They had thirteen months together. They could do anything, go anywhere, they had thirteen months -

"Are you alright then? I was so scared, I didn't know what you were doing. Did you just go for a walk or -?"

Killian pressed his lips to hers hungrily, memorizing her taste and swallowing her protests. "I just - I really desperately need to kiss you."

She gasped, her legs parting for his knee to grind against her center. "Well, I'm not complaining," Her head fell back and he sucked on her earlobe, her hips bucking against his thigh as she keened a pretty noise. "But Killian, are you certain you're alright?"

"I will be. Let me love you tonight, properly make you dinner, drink wine with you, tell you how beautiful you are in every language I can speak -"

"What has gotten into you?" Emma squeaked out. He squeezed her ass tightly, eliciting a squeal. "Killian!"

"Nothing, nothing darling. I only want to get in to you, and taste you - "

Emma pulled away from his grasp, her smirk teasing. "You said wine and a dinner?" Her stomach growled loudly and her cheeks flushed a bright red.

"I suppose that is well in order first." Killian laughed, adjusting himself and trying to calm his racing heart. Quickly tossing together a salad, Emma argued with him over health benefits until he looked it up using her lap held computer. An ad caught his eye on the side of the page, Emma leaving to grab cheese from the fridge.

The lap-top type-writing device still gave him pause, although he handled it much better now. It had helped to have the learning curve of having a bank account that did not actually hold gold or coins, and to research. Killian had made a few mistakes, but managed to figure out the complex web that made up the interred net.

They sat down to dinner together, opening a bottle of white wine that sparkled in their glasses. Everything felt new now that he was freed, as if everything around him was clean and refreshed. With no hold barred, he prepared himself, readying for the brutal shutdown Emma might give him instead. His questioning wasn't subtle, but Emma was more than oblivious to it regardless.

"If you could go anywhere, have a dream vacation or a do over of traveling you've done, where would you go?"

Emma mulled the question, chewing her salad slowly. She liked it, complaining about the greens until he'd added an unhealthy amount of cheese. It still counted as healthy enough and a win in his books.

"You know I was married, but I don't know if I told you just how bad my honeymoon was," Emma said slowly, her voice the impassive, steely, aloof tone she reserved for touchy topics. "I - I know he cheated on me, and I know he… He wasn't a good person. I just thought, well, even then I expected him to be there."

She shrugged, briskly and Killian blinked.

"What do you mean, 'be there'?" He asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

Emma pushed her fork into the greens with a stab, sliding them around the plate. "He uh, he skipped our honeymoon; the entire thing. He had to work, so I stayed in our room and did our couples activities alone." She didn't look up, even as his hand found hers and she smiled wryly, remembering. "When I got back home he told me I'd gained weight. Truly, a winner."

"Oh, love -"

"It's fine. I mean, I don't want another honeymoon, I don't - that's out of the question, but, I'd love to go back and feel what it was supposed to feel like." Laying her fork down, Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, chuckling. "All those activities I skipped, or couldn't go on, or were supposed to be romantic and were instead so lonely… I just wonder what it would be like to do those with…"

Her eyes met his, and she blushed, yanking her other hand from his to stab at her salad again.

The tickets weren't expensive, the resort covering more amenities than he could fathom. His passport and making the documents that he needed were trickier, his supply of false papers just new enough to only need minor doctoring. Driving down into town with her in tow and their suitcases squirreled away in back, he watched her fidget with the radio.

"I don't think you've ever driven me anywhere before," Emma groaned, ducking her head from sight. "Ugh, there's that crazy old lunatic. He's obsessed with our house for some reason."

The windows were fogged, but Killian could hear the man's cries as he paced on the corner.

"The Fae! The Fae are at Carterhaugh, they will take your soul and beget you with changeling child to steal your youth, your luck, your fortune! Stay away from that cursed place, stay away from the wood where nothing grows!" The man screamed, waving his hands. He began to laugh wildly, running at their car while shouting nonsense, but Killian pulled away as the light fortuitously changed.

Emma peeked out, looking around confused as they turned off the main road, and onto the turnpike.

"You said we were going to the hardware store?" She asked, and he nodded, turning up the radio as he drummed on the steering wheel with his fingers. Emma cocked her head, squinting as she looked at him. "That's… That's not a lie, but it's not the truth either. What's going on?"

Killian mimed being affronted, his hand rising to his chest. "I need to go to the Hardware store, Swan. Can't a man simply just go about his business to get a certain piece of hardware with his lady love?"

"Not when you are acting so weird about it. Where are we even going? What store do you have to go to out of town?" Emma's eyes narrowed further. "You never go out of town."

"For you I'm making an exception. It's a special part. I need it, and it's only available at this certain store." He smiled, watching her chew her lip.

They arrived at the airport, and Emma refused to get out of the car as he unloaded their luggage onto a cart.

"Nope. Nuh-uh." Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyes slitted slivers of sea glass. He tried to hold back his laughter, but settled for a grin as he held out his hand. "I don't know what crazy idea of yours you have cooked up in your mind, but I -"

"Take a leap of faith, love. I promise you that it might be worth it," Wiggling his eyebrows and giving a wink, he watched her fight a smile. "Very worth it."

"I'll come in the lobby if you tell me -"

"I'll tell you everything on the plane Swan, but we are running behind schedule because of your stubbornness. I would hate to have to go by myself and leave you here without my presence." Her hand met his, fitting perfectly when he pulled her forward. A valet took the car, Emma trying her hardest to hide her excitement.

"On the plane?" She murmured as they moved through TSA, some sort of inspectors that roughed up his intimate places a bit too much for his liking. He produced her passport when asked, watching her eyes widen as she read the ticket. "Wait, is this what I think - oh, Killian, I appreciate it but we can't, the house -"

"Will be there when we get back, and is being watched by Widow Tremaine," He grinned, and she smiled back with a brightness that made his heart soar. "If anything gets past the threshold of Carterhaugh, that old bat will kill it thrice over."

"The garden though, and my appointments with the contractors -"

"Will be fine, and rescheduled."

"I didn't pack -"

"I packed for you. Anything else, we can get there. The Navy taught me how to pack lightly, I have half a suitcase for you to fill with whatever you like."

"This is -" Emma sputtered, unable to protest.

"This is an adventure, love," Killian pressed his lips to her temple, swaying her when she pressed into him. "Really get into, alright? This is for you. Don't freak out or worry about anything but being happy."

Shadows flickered across her face when she looked up at him, but after a moment, she broke into a smile she reserved for him.

"Alright. Let's do this."

They stepped on the plane together, and off hand in hand.

He purchased the part he needed at the store a few blocks from their resort, the lovely bit of hardware gleaming in the jeweler's hand before it was placed carefully into a plush velvet box.

Emma was waiting for him when he returned, the masseuse just finishing her work. Killian signaled for her to go, his hands taking over to knead Emma's soft skin, feeling where the sun had kissed it on their beach walks and scuba trip.

"This is truly -" Emma giggled, swatting at him when he kissed down her back while tickling just under her ribs. "This is perfect. This is everything I wanted."

"I'm glad, darling." Killian smiled, Emma pushing him aside to sit up.

"No, I mean it. This… Killian I know this has been a lot, and I'm not ready for big declarations or conversations, because I just - I can't," He met her eyes, trying to hide his longing for just that, but she continued, her hands sliding up his chest. "But with you? I want to. I want that, all of it, and not because of this or anything like it."

"Emma -"

"Because of all the small things, and maybe yes, parts of this grand gesture, but mostly because I… I want to have someone build pillow forts with me, and looks at me the way you do."

"I always knew pillow architecture would show the true mettle of my wooing a beautiful woman." Killian grinned, her gentle smack to his chest making them both laugh.

Emma's lips met his, her fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, and if he was not completely hers before that moment, it didn't matter -

He belonged wholly and entirely to Emma Swan when they parted to breathe each other in, and after when that wasn't enough and their bodies demanded more.

Lying next to each other while his bones worked on becoming something other than jelly, Emma curled into him like a perfect fit. In the back of his mind October loomed, it's thirteen months a ticking time bomb to this heaven on earth.

"Hey, Killian?" She murmured into his chest. He glanced down, her half lidded gaze soft as he held her.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Emma."

Holding Emma even tighter to him, he savored every single second they had.

[vanilla107]

In Another Time

Pairing: Luke/Alex, hints of Julie/Luke and Willie/Alex

Words: 3122

Themes: Hurt/comfort, mentions of homophobia, angst with a happy ending, from pining to getting together, breaking up and dying to eventually finding peace.

“One last kiss?” Alex asked, hoping the guitarist would indulge him one last time before they ended things for good.

Luke nodded and leaned in, capturing Alex’s lips in a searing kiss, leaving the drummer wanting more but a bitter reminder of what he couldn’t have.

Read on AO3

The Summer of 1994

It was 1994, and Alex had been 16 when he had come out to Luke, Bobby and Reggie.

None of them were shocked because Alex was Alex and he was an amazing friend, an excellent drummer and being gay didn’t change anything, but Luke didn’t expect to start liking his best friend a year later, yet he couldn’t help but shrug at the thought.

Since Alex’s coming out, the blonde smiled more and was one of the most radiant people in the room when they had practice. Alex was talented, beautiful and had seen the worst of Luke and after running out on his parents to pursue a career with Sunset Curve, he had cried into the drummer’s shoulder multiple times.

Alex had seen him at his best and his worst and Luke liked that he was still there. Still there to snap him out of his funk, to nod his head to an unfinished melody, to smile at a dumb joke and…and Luke hadn’t realized he was pining so hard for him.

It made him nervous at the thought that he liked one of his best friends who happened to be in the same band as him. He couldn’t bear the thought of telling Reggie or Bobby because, despite them being chill with Alex, he still needed time to sort through his emotions.

Was he straight? Was he gay? He couldn’t be gay because he knew he liked girls too but what did that mean? He vaguely remembered the word bisexual being thrown around in the corridors at school, but that didn’t answer his question. Did he like Alex because they were friends and he felt so comfortable around him?

It was confusing to say the least but he knew one thing for sure: that he liked Alex and wanted to see where it would go. It was a risk but he was determined to not let a simple confession ruin his friendship with him or risk breaking up the band.

It was after band practice, once Reggie and Bobby had left, that Luke plucked up the courage to ask him.

“Hey Alex. You played really well today!” he grinned, and Alex smiled warmly.

“Thanks dude. Gotta make sure we’re ready for that big gig! Next up the Orpheum and then our dreams will come true!”

Luke watched Alex dance his awful ballet dance across the room and he chuckled before shaking his hands and placing his guitar down.

“Yeah…it’s finally falling into place, but I wanted to ask you something.”

Alex stopped dancing and looked at him seriously.

“Oh? Is this because I was off in one of the songs because to be honest, I’m not having the best vocal day-”

“No Alex. It has nothing to do with your voice,” Luke chuckled.

“Okay then…what is it?”

Luke took a deep breath and looked into Alex’s eyes.

“I’m going to just go for this and say…I like you Alex and I…I want to go on a date with you.”

The drummer stared at him for a minute before taking a step back and running a hand through his hair in disbelief. He was quiet for too long and Luke could feel the nerves setting it in.

Crap…maybe this was a bad idea.

“Okay, you’re not saying anything and if this is making you uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened-”

“-I…this isn’t some prank? Because it’s not funny but…No…you wouldn’t do something like this…”

Luke noticed that Alex’s voice trembled, like he was scared of the possibility that this was some cruel joke. He clenched his jaw and took a step forward, taking Alex’s hands in his and squeezing softly.

“I’m being serious. I like you and want to go on a date.”

“You like me?” Alex asked incredulously.

“What’s not to like?” Luke laughed at the cheesy comment but noticed that Alex seemed more anxious than happy.

Alex’s heart was pounding hard in his chest. It’s not that he didn’t like Luke, but more because he had always been afraid to let his budding feelings disrupt his friendship. He was close with his bandmates and he never wanted to cross a line. He knew that they were all accepting of him but the last thing he wanted was for their band to break up because of something that could’ve been avoided.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Alex murmured, letting go of Luke’s hands, before sitting down on the couch, his head in his hands.

Luke swallowed uneasily and sat down next to him before slowly putting a hand on Alex’s shoulder.

“If this is too much then-”

“No! It’s just…overwhelming. I’m happy you like me Luke. Over the freaking moon happy…but what if things don’t work out? What if there’s awkwardness? I don’t want the band to fall apart if this doesn’t work out-”

“Okay woah!” Luke interrupted and placed his cupped Alex’s face in his hands, “I get it. We’re good friends already and we don’t want to ruin it and I’m not asking you to start going on dates every Friday night or pressure you into something you’re not ready for. I just want to spend more time with you, and we can take it slowly. Super slow, like a snail if you want.”

Alex closed his eyes before opening them and seeing Luke’s clear blue eyes.

“Slow like a snail?” he asked softly, and Luke smiled before removing his hands from Alex’s face to lifting his hands to his lips and kissing Alex’s knuckles gently.

“Super slow like a snail,” he repeated.

They spent the rest of the afternoon laughing at failed lyrics from Luke’s songbook and eating leftover pizza.

Alex wasn’t sure if that counted as a first date, but he was happy and if it did, it was perfect.

~~~

Six months later

Luke hummed softly under his breath as he fiddled with a chord on his guitar.

It was a cool evening, and Reggie had just gone out to get them dinner, but Luke knew deep down that the bass player would take at least an hour to get their food. Reggie, the charismatic guy he was, would probably spend most of that time flirting up a storm with the other customers.

He chuckled at the thought and nodded as the melody began to come together before pausing to look over the lyrics he had written. While editing some of the lyrics, Luke started singing softly, trying to see where he could improve on the tempo, when the door opened with a bang and he looked up in shock.

There stood Alex, beautiful and sensitive Alex, Sunset Curve’s drummer and-

Luke froze when he realized that there were tears running down Alex’s cheeks and he immediately put his guitar down and ran to him, his gut squeezing in worry.

“Alex…what…did something happen?”

“I…” Alex couldn’t speak before dissolving into sobs, his hands coming up to his face.

Luke led him to the couch and pulled him into a hug while the boy cried.

For once Luke was grateful that Reggie was a massive flirt because this was serious and though he loved the guy, Reggie had always been more of the jokester even in serious situations.

Once the sobs subsided, Alex looked up, his eyes red and face slightly puffy, and Luke brushed away the tears.

“Alex…what happened?”

“I…I told my parents I’m gay and…and they-”

Alex started crying again and buried his head into Luke’s shoulder and Luke felt his heart break.

He didn’t need to know how Alex’s parents reacted because the drummer’s reaction was enough.

“Did they kick you out?” he whispered.

“No…they started saying things like ‘I haven’t found the right person’ and when I told them that I know for a fact that I’m not attracted to women…it got so bad Luke.”

The blonde looked like he was going to cry again, and Luke rubbed his back soothingly.

“They started talking about seeing a therapist like something’s wrong with me and…and what if there is? What if I’m just messed up in the head-?”

Luke’s concern subsided and was replaced with rage. How dare Alex’s parents say that? There was nothing wrong with the beautiful person next to him.

“You’re not messed up in the head Alex. You are incredible and just because you like men doesn’t make you any less of a person, I promise . I’m sorry your parents said those things.”

Alex sighed and fidgeted with his hands.

“I didn’t tell them about us. Their initial reaction was enough,” he whispered, and Luke nodded.

“They don’t need to know,” he said as he rubbed Alex’s back.

They were quiet for a while, Alex listening to Luke’s heartbeat and Luke gently running a hand through the drummer’s hair. Alex sat up, his eyes red and he sighed before looking at Luke, his expression pained.

“Luke…please don’t take this the wrong way but…but I think we should…stop this.”

It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room. Luke bit his tongue hard to stop himself from yelling.

Why? Why do you have to suffer to make your parents happy? What happened to your happiness Alex?

“I don’t want to break up with you. It’s just that…that I don’t know about this and what my parents are going to do once I go home this evening and I can’t risk being forced to leave the band. It just feels like there’s too many variables-”

Luke shook his head before clasping the drummer’s hands in his and looked into his eyes.

“I understand. You’re upset and your parents play a huge role in your life. I don’t want this relationship to be a center of conflict for you. I mean…you know my relationship with my parents.”

“Unsaid Emily.”

“Yeah…exactly. And I while I regret running out on them…being gay is who you are. You can’t change yourself and if your parents don’t like that then Reggie, Bobby and I are your new family.”

Alex hugged the guitarist hard and cried into his shoulder for the third time that night.

They sat there in silence before Luke turned to face him.

“So what are you going to tell your parents?” Luke asked and Alex sighed.

“I don’t know yet. The truth is out there and I denied that I was into girls at least five times before running out…but for now I’ll just deal with it. I know they love me…I hope they do.”

Alex’s response crushed Luke and he hesitantly intertwined his hands with Alex’s.

“One last kiss?” Alex asked, hoping the guitarist would indulge him one last time before they ended things for good.

Luke nodded and leaned in, capturing Alex’s lips in a searing kiss, leaving the drummer wanting more but a bitter reminder of what he couldn’t have.

~~~

2020

Caleb’s Ghost Club

“There’s a lot to um…like here,” Willie said gazing at Alex, before leaving the table and the drummer looked at his retreating form.

He felt his heart jump as the words repeated themselves in his head and for the first time realized he could be himself. The possibility of meeting a gay skater ghost in LA after crying for 25 years, was slim but here he was and he…he loved it. Alex could be gay and proud of it and not have to hide constantly. Whether he ever saw his parents or not, he could be who he wanted to be.

He could be free.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Woah, you got a crush on Willie!” Luke grinned, and Alex looked up in surprise.

Alex wasn’t sure how to react. Luke had been the first person to love him, really love him, after he came out and even though they had a healthy relationship, he had ended things on a note he wasn’t proud of.

“What no. No, man, no. We’re just-”

“-Alex, I’m happy for you,” Luke said with a smile and Alex saw the sincerity in his eyes, and a slow smile spread across his face too.

He was about to answer when Reggie came back, upset.

“You guys are not going to believe this, but someone just told me they added a character named Jar Jar. What’s a Jar Jar?” he exclaimed.

Luke saw Caleb walk to their table but shot Alex a smile before listening to what Caleb had to say.

~~~

2020

The Studio

Luke clenched his hands into fists and opened them up again.

He was sitting on the couch and Julie had already gone to bed. Reggie was asleep in the loft and Alex had made a quick trip to see Willie.

They had just played the Orpheum, nearly died (again) and through Julie, they were no longer under Caleb’s curse and could touch each other. He didn’t understand it at all, but he liked being able to hold Julie’s hand and hold her. He wasn’t sure if that meant they were alive, but Alex had poofed out to see Willie so maybe they could only touch Julie?

He shook his head and decided to not think about it anymore when Alex poofed next to him.

“Hey, Reggie asleep?” he asked, and Luke nodded.

“How’s Willie?” he asked.

“He’s okay and Caleb doesn’t suspect a thing about him helping us.”

They collapsed into comfortable silence before Alex cleared his throat.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about…us.”

“Us?”

Luke didn’t know what on earth Alex meant. The tone sounded oddly similar to when Alex had broken up with him all those years ago but they weren’t a couple anymore so what was the deal? Had something happened with him and Willie and he wanted advice?

“Yeah…can we talk outside? I don’t want to wake Reggie.”

Luke nodded and they poofed outside. It was a warm evening and Luke leaned against the garage wall. He took in Alex’s stance and noticed he was tense.

“Alex…don’t start pacing on me. Whatever you need to tell me will be between us.”

The drummer nodded before letting out a breath.

“I want to apologize for breaking up with you 25 years ago. I was scared after I told my parents and I just didn’t want any crazier changes in my life like losing you or the band.”

Luke was surprised. He thought they left their romantic period back in 1994 and had moved on but clearly Alex didn’t feel the same.

“You don’t need to apologize Alex. I know why you did what you did. Remember I said that I didn’t want our relationship to be a point of conflict for you. It wouldn’t have been fair.”

Luke stepped back when Alex threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

“I felt guilty though! I ended things with you not because I wanted to but because I was feeling scared all the time. What if someone found out? What would happen to the band? What if someone hurt you? The AIDS crisis didn’t make it better for gay people-”

Alex felt warm tears of sadness drip down his cheeks and Luke pulled him into a hug.

“Alex…it’s okay. I’m not upset that you had to end things and you made the choice that felt right. Also…just so you know…there’s tons of research now about AIDS and it’s not an exclusive virus to gay people,” Luke said soothingly, rubbing his back.

“It’s not?”

“Yeah, it’s spread through contact of blood and I don’t know all the details, but I checked a couple days ago. I remember how scared you were about it when you saw the protests and the general reaction from the public about it, so I did some research. It’s not curable but there are people who are alive who live with it and are living decent lives. HIV is what it starts out as and then if left untreated, can lead to AIDS which is what is life threatening.”

Alex shut his eyes tight and let out a shaky breath.

Memories flashed through his mind: the newspaper articles screaming how ten more gay men died in a hospital, his dad commenting on the gay men in the street, the whispers from the teens in the corridor about how one of their classmates had contracted the ‘gay plague’.

“So much has changed now Luke…gender and sexuality is so much more open and accepting now and I finally feel free to be who I really am,” he whispered, and Luke broke off the hug before squeezing the drummer’s shoulder affectionately.

“And I’m happy that you’re happy, you know? Especially since…leading up to the Orpheum…things were a little tense with us…” Luke murmured, and Alex nodded.

“I’m sorry for hurting you Luke. I never wanted too.”

Alex broke off, his eyes tearing up again and Luke brought him back into another hug.

“It’s okay now,” Luke murmured.

They stayed like that in silence, holding each other before Alex let go, feeling a weight off his shoulders. He cleared his throat and shook his head before looking at Luke.

“So…you and Julie?” Alex grinned as he wiped away the last of his tears, and Luke smiled bashfully.

“I guess I can’t hide how I feel. I…I really like her…I just don’t know how our relationship would work. I know we can touch each other now but what if it’s only temporary?”

“Yeah the whole ‘being a ghost’ thing is a bit of a deal breaker,” Alex snorted, and Luke rolled his eyes.

“But seriously, whatever happens between you and Julie…you deserve it Luke.”

“Thanks Alex and you deserve happiness too. I’m happy you have it with Willie.”

“I know dying sucked and it feels selfish to admit this but…I like it here. I like that I have a second chance at my life where I feel free.”

“I get it Alex and it’s not selfish. You’re free and we can live our weird ghost lives rocking out with Julie and becoming the band we always wanted to be.”

Alex shot him a smile that had once made Luke's heart beat a little faster but all he felt was a swell of happiness as he wrapped an arm around Alex's shoulder and pulled him into another hug.

They spent the rest of their time gazing at the stars, their laughter floating into the night, reminiscing about their past and dreaming about their futures.

~~~~~~~

[Notes from author]

Did I really binge a musical series about a ghost band and a girl recovering from her mom's passing that hasn't been confirmed for a second season yet? Yes. Yes I did AND NETFLIX WILL YOU PLEASE GIVE US WHAT WE WANT?!

Anyway, This is my first Julie and the Phantoms fanfic and even though I ship Julie and Luke hardcore, Owen and Charlie just had to mention on live that Luke and Alex dated in the 90s and BAM this fanfic happened! I love how close Luke, Reggie and Alex are (crushing toxic masculinity) so I will most likely be writing fanfictions for them all in future but for now, to test the waters, have this baby! I did have to imagine how Alex and Luke would talk one on one as there weren't many moments in the series with one on one characters besides Luke and Julie but WHEN WE GET A SEASON TWO, I'd love to see their relationships fleshed out more!

A huge thank you to my friend, Naz, for binging this show with me last week and then beta reading this! Thank you for crying with me to Unsaid Emily, for hearing my theories and giggling at our favourite parts. <3

If you enjoyed reading this, leave a comment, reblog or a like to make me love you forever.

Stay safe everyone! vanilla107 xoxo

[jjkfire]

Preydator

Reader x Jungkook // shifter!AU, raccoon!jk // 6k words

Summary: Neither of you are quite the predator the two of you claim to be. + “I wonder what the people would say if they saw big mean lion predator tending to my wound right now.” raccoon!jk & (surprise (; hehe)!reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: Okay I know scientifically raccoons aren’t exactly preys bc they eat rodents and frogs and etc. but… for the purpose of this fic, they are classified as preys. Predators in this au refers to… tertiary consumers, like top trophic level dudes. Also, football = soccer. Sorry, calling it soccer is very awkward for me!

You’re no stranger to late nights at the library. In fact, you love them. Your brain just works better at 1 am than it does at 1 pm. You also like it when there’s far fewer people in the quiet section of the library. The scent of all the others in the room can get a little too overwhelming for someone like you so, you’re truly at your happiest when there’s only a handful of people around.

Most people don’t like to stay at the library past 2 am because that’s when the campus buses stop running but you don’t really mind. Walking home at 3 in the morning after a long study session when the streets are eerily quiet, doesn’t faze you at all. It’s calm, peaceful and it makes you feel at ease. Your walks are usually uneventful and that’s probably a good thing. You have a small handheld can of pepper spray just in case of anything but in all your semesters here, you’ve only had to use it once and that had been a while ago, but perhaps you spoke to soon because tonight you find yourself gripping that small can in your hand, heart thumping loudly against your chest.

There’s the sound of a loud tortured squeal and you can’t quite pinpoint where it’s coming from. You pick up your pace attempting to get away from the source, but you don’t really know where to go. You know the sound is coming from a hurt animal and just that thought alone makes you sweat, because it probably means that a predator shifter that’s out of his or her senses is on the loose. Sure you should try to help whatever it is that’s making that noise but you reconsider the fact that you are but a tiny prey shifter and that if you do stop to help, you’ll probably be the next victim.

The squeals seem to echo no matter how far you walk, in fact they get louder and you start to run, your hand fumbling for the can of pepper spray in your pocket. You stumble, the loud clang of metal ringing through the night as you trip over a misplaced manhole cover. You whine, groaning in pain when you end up on the floor. The squeals are more urgent now, as if it was warning you of what’s to come and god, you shut your eyes, hoping that whatever feral predator that’s lurking will hopefully end your life quick, unlike its previous victim that’s still screaming in pain.

You’re waiting and waiting and waiting but the fatal bite to your neck never comes. You can still hear the squeals, less urgent this time, almost like there’s no effort in them. Slowly, you peel your eyes open, dusting off the dirt on your knees after you had taken a quick look around to make sure you were safe. You let out a whimper when you press at your injured toe. Surely it was going to bruise, you sigh, mumbling to yourself. At that sound, you hear the loud squeals again, accompanied with the sound of water being sloshed about. Odd.

Just up ahead, you see a hole in the ground, presumably where the manhole cover you just tripped over was meant to go. You inch towards it slowly, carefully, unsure if it was just a trap. If you were being honest, all of this seemed eerily like the opening of a horror movie. Despite your gut telling you to just take off and run, you risk a peek down the hole in front of you and in there you see the source of all your panic tonight, a poor little raccoon, limping around and squealing as it peered up at you.

“You poor baby,” You frown, as you watch the raccoon try to reach for the metal rungs on the side of the wall, attempting to climb up towards you. “Just wait down there. I’ll come get you!”

You take one last look around you, ensuring that the injured raccoon wasn’t being used to bait you because yes, you’re that paranoid. You remove your backpack and slowly make your way down into the sewer, nose wrinkling at the awful stench. When you reach the bottom, the raccoon stands aside timidly as if it was afraid of you and you offer it your hand, to show that you meant no harm.

“I’m no predator, don’t worry,” You laugh as it comes up to sniff you. “Let’s get you home, huh?” You murmur as you attempt to pick it up, making sure you avoid the large gash you see on its side.

“You still want these?” You ask, pointing to the clothes that are drenched in sewer water and it shakes its head no. Thank god. You didn’t want to touch it in the first place. With that, you attempt to climb up the metal rungs with just one available hand. It’s a bit of a struggle and you can tell that the little raccoon is attempting to muffle its pained squeals, burying its head in your shirt.

When you finally get back to ground level, you see that the gash the raccoon has is much worse than you had thought. It seems weak, tired, and when you ask if it could point you the way of its house, it only blinked at you. You can see the poor animal shivering in the light breeze, whimpering as it attempted to limp closer to you. You guess you had no choice but to bring it home with you.

When you finally reach your studio apartment, you quickly got a towel, helping the raccoon to dry off as best as you could without touching the wound.

“So… now what?” You ask out loud but you’re mainly talking to yourself because you know the animal has no capacity to answer you. “I think this will be easier to treat in your human form,” You point at his wound. “What’s your trigger?” You question.

Shifters mostly stay in their human form and only turn into their animal form when they experience any one of their specific triggers. For some it’s when they get angry, a very common trigger for large predators. For some, it’s when they’re hurt, for others it’s when they feel threatened and for the raccoon that you’ve just rescued, it’s apparently food because it’s limping towards your fridge, trying to nudge the door open.

“Food?” You ask as you catch up with it. “Okay, but first we gotta clean your hands,” You smile, as you bring the bottle of hand sanitizer down from the counter to sanitize its tiny little hands. An audible coo leaves your lips as you watch it rub its small palms together. Raccoons, you sigh lovingly. How could anyone hate them?

You open the door to your fridge, humming as you look at the contents of it, or perhaps lack of it.

“Sandwich?” You ask. All you had in your fridge was one half of the grilled cheese sandwich you had made last night. “I mean that’s all I have anyway, so the answer is going to have to be yes,” You chuckle as you pop it into the microwave.

“Just wait here,” You say as you move towards your closet to grab another towel. A cleaner and much larger one because you know once the raccoon shifted back, it was going to be stark naked and you didn’t want any… surprises. The microwave dings, and you hear the raccoon let out excited squeals, attempting to climb up onto the counter despite its injury.

You laugh, bringing the plate down to the floor before you watched it grab the sandwich with its little hands. The raccoon was absolutely adorable, munching on its sandwich and you’ll admit you’re quite a fan of the animal, if it wasn’t already evident from the numerous raccoon plushies sat on your bed. It’s a guilty pleasure but you often watch cute raccoon videos in your free time. Raccoons just have those cute tiny hands and that adorable little face and some of them are so chubby that all you wanted to do was pick them up and cuddle them. You’re sort of lost in your own thoughts about raccoons that it takes the tugging of the towel to bring you back to earth. When you look back down, you realise that in those few minutes your new raccoon buddy has finished the sandwich, which meant it was going to shift back soon. It’s probably why it had pulled at that towel with such urgency. It doesn’t get too far, just out of your small little kitchen before you hear a loud thump and a subsequent groan.

You quickly move towards the sink to wash the plate, trying to pretend like this was totally normal. The reality of the situation suddenly hit you like an oncoming train and so you continue pretending that your heart isn’t beating at 1000 miles per minute, that you didn’t have a complete stranger in your house and maybe you realize how naïve and stupid you are now that there’s a full grown human that you don’t know in your apartment. What’s worse is that it’s a man and you know that because that voice is way too deep for it to be a woman’s and—

“Hello.”

“Umm, hi,” You mumble, looking up from the plate that you have just set aside to see a half-naked man staring back at you. It takes you a second, maybe two before you go, oh because you’ve got the campus’ prized fuckboy, Jeon Jungkook, in your apartment... wearing nothing but a towel on his hips.

“Oh my god,” He shakes his head. “I just can’t believe it’s actually you. I mean I sort of realized in the sewer, but I digress. It’s you! Y/N the meme girl!” He laughs. “You know the uhh that—” He stops his sentence halfway, drop-kicking the air in front of him. “—that girl.”

“Yes,” You sigh. “I’m that girl. All thanks to you, Jeon Jungkook the professional meme maker.”

“I just edited funny text on the video,” He shrugs. “It’s basically all you… and Choi Junho of course. That sucker,” He laughs.

God, if there was one person you didn’t want the raccoon to be, it would be Jungkook. Scratch that, there’s two people you didn’t want it to be and one of them is Jungkook and the other would be Choi Junho, but you are well aware that Junho is no raccoon.

Junho is a beloved player on the college basketball team. People worship the ground he walks on and everyone, and really everyone loves him. He’s the reason your college’s basketball team has been doing so well. Back in freshman year, like everyone else, you liked him too. When you found out you were sharing a discussion section of one of your classes with him, you were ecstatic. You just wanted to be able to say ‘Oh yeah Junho and I are in the same discussion section. He’s pretty nice.’ at parties to make others envious and not really anything more than that. You never expected to know him any more than the usual classmate whom you would talk to in class and then smile politely at if you were to bump into each other in public, and for a long time, it was just that.

Then, one night at some Halloween house party, you bumped into him while you were pouring yourself a drink. He seemed sober for the most part and so were you. A few glasses later however, neither of you were sober and in some dark corner of the house, he had his tongue down your throat, his hands roaming all over your body. He kept asking if you wanted to go upstairs and for a moment you felt... good, because look at you, you were just seconds away from sleeping with arguably the most popular guy on campus. Yet, something about it didn’t sit right with you. Maybe it was the contents of your stomach that was threatening to come out any second now. So, you said no, respectfully, and told him you were comfortable right there. Honestly, you thought after that he would move on to someone else, his next prey or whatever, but he hung around, asked if you wanted to head back to his place, asked if he could walk you home, asked if you wanted to reconsider going upstairs. You got away from him somehow, you couldn’t remember how but you do remember dreading the fact that you would have to see him in discussion after the weekend.

You hoped that it had been the alcohol that made Junho so… creepy, that perhaps he would have forgotten everything and gone back to just knowing you as that person in his discussion section, but come Monday, you realised he had no intention of forgetting. He flirted with you shamelessly, pressuring you to go out on a date with him, always repeating himself even when you had respectfully declined, numerous times. Eventually, hes seemed to get the hint and instead, he would ask to meet at the library on the pretext of getting some work done, but then halfway through studying you could feel his hand on your knee. Although you guessed that could be a friendly gesture, it made you uncomfortable and so you would always find an excuse to leave. 

The worst part of all of it though was the fact that he didn’t feel guilty or bad or any sort whenever he saw how uncomfortable he made you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, like it was some sick game for him. He would text you all the time, find ways to sit next to you in lecture and discussion, show up at parties you were at, tried to befriend your friends. You felt like you couldn’t really tell anyone about the situation because Junho was well, Junho. He was popular, well-liked and if you were to say that you felt like he was borderline stalking you, you would be labelled as pretentious or an attention seeker.

You felt helpless. There was nothing you could do, because his aura in general scared you. He was a predator. You knew just from his scent. Predator shifters are rare, they are revered and Junho was rather proud he was one. He was a panther and when he was toying with you, you could see it in his expression, the mischievousness and power that he held. Whenever you were near him, you felt like you were in danger. You felt like if you said no one more time, he would just find ways to make you say yes. So, you tried your best to isolate yourself and you tried to find excuses so you could attend a different discussion section. You even changed your phone number. You did everything you could to get away from him. It did nothing to deter him though and he even bothered you well through winter break and into the following semester.

Then came the fateful day. Valentine’s Day. He had stopped you in the middle of the quad, with a box of chocolates in hand, handing it to you so everyone could see, so you were under pressure to accept. You didn’t want to. You knew that if you did, he would get the wrong idea and so you said no thank you, soft and quiet so nobody but him could hear. He insisted and put the box into your hand with that sick, sick smile on his lips. Everyone was cooing, smiling and you didn’t want that. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like that all eyes were on you, all the attention was on you and most of all you didn’t like the way he was looking at you like he had won, that you were his prey for the taking now. You wanted to run, your prey instincts told you to, but you know doing that meant that he would still be the winner so, you did what you thought was best. You took a deep breath, stretching your hand out, you dropped the box of chocolates and kicked it as high and as far as you could. You could hear gasps of horror, the look of surprise on everyone’s face and in the commotion of it all, you took your chance to escape. You were still shaking even when you went to bed that night.

The aftermath of it all was uncontrollable. There were so many videos of it online, from numerous angles. It was starting to get out of hand and you were receiving messages from strangers, half of them cussing you out, wishing you misfortune and the other half congratulating you on your— in their words— big dick energy. It was absolute chaos but you had achieved what you wanted and Junho was nowhere to be seen… until of course Jungkook came into the picture.

See, it was all fine and dandy until the ever wonderful Jeon Jungkook decided to produce numerous meme edits of the incident. They had titles like me @ my responsibilities and me @ my money, with accompanying music and video effects. What was a video that was popular campus wide soon became a viral video that had spread all across the world. Everyone and really, everyone recognized you as the girl who drop-kicked some loser’s gift… which meant now everyone recognized Junho as the loser who got his gift drop-kicked.

There was a shift of attitude on campus and suddenly people either feared you or wanted to be your friend. You were rumoured to be either a poisonous prey, or the more popular theory, some predator, perhaps a lion. That could not be any further from the truth, but in any case, you liked that. It meant that people feared you so, you played into that belief, made people around you think that you were in fact a predator when you were a prey. Lion shifters were extremely rare, the rarest of the rare and so you achieved that stay away from her status that you could have previously only dreamed of. You bought some predator scent spray online and you had the resting bitch face to match too and so that’s how sophomore year went for you. Good, quiet. People admired you from afar, kept their distance. It was nice and you didn’t have to fear walking around campus at night because you knew that people knew not to come near you. All except one, of course.

Choi Junho was not one to back down and so he came up to you when you were on your routine walk home from the library, alone and vulnerable. First, he appeared apologetic, head bowed down, shifting his weight from one feet to another, but the next second, he had you pinned against the wall, hand on your throat.

“You poor little thing,” He smirked. “You may have everyone fooled but oh, not me.”

His grip on your throat tightened and you could see it, his eyes beginning to change, that familiar feral glow beginning to show.

“I knew you liked playing games. You like being hunted, don’t you?” He licked the corners of his lips. “You want me to chase you, you want to feel powerful, but in the end you want me to put you in your place, don’t you?”

You struggled against him, gasping, your hand trying to loosen the grip he has around your neck.

“I love it when you look like this,” He grinned, wiping away your tears with his free hand. “All desperate and weak for me.”

Your fingers finally closed around the can in your pocket and with the little strength you had left, you sprayed it in his eyes, hoping to god that it actually works. The boy in front of you cried out in pain, crumpling to the ground as he wiped his eyes. You took the opportunity to kick him right in the gonads, a few times too many. People like him should never be allowed to reproduce. You told yourself it was in self-defence, but you knew it was mostly for revenge. That was the last time he bothered you. You never tried to report the whole incident. You had no proof anyway so, you continue to pretend like it was all a dream, or rather a nightmare. Junho’s still the campus’ beloved basketball star and you’re only one of the many girls he had tried to get with. You wonder if there are other girls like you out there, girls who had to suffer under his hands. That’s a thought you keep locked far, far away.

“Seems like I uhh, brought up some bad memories,” Jungkook mumbles when he notices the grimace on your face. You realize you’ve been silent for way too long and so you shake yourself out of it, bringing your attention back to the boy in front of you.

“Something like that I guess…” You murmur. “Anyway, so, you umm want to get cleaned up? I have some oversized shirts and sweatpants that you might fit. Might.”

“As long as they’re not Junho’s,” He jokes and all that garners out of you is a sneer.

“They’re mine,” You mumble, walking towards your closet to pull out some clothes. “Not fashionable in the least, but it’s better than walking out there naked.”

“Uhh debatable but okay, fine, true,” He nods as he looks to see if the clothes would fit. “Thanks… for the clothes and for umm everything, really. I’m not sure how long I would have been stuck down there... and with the gash and all, it could’ve ended badly for me.” He points to the cut on his chest which is considerably less menacing than when it took up almost half his body when he was in his animal form.

“It’s no big deal,” You mumble. “And yeah we’ll get that wound sorted out after you shower. Make sure to clean the area when you’re in there.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes, before you point him in the direction of your bathroom.

This surely wasn’t the way you imagined meeting the guy who propelled you to meme stardom. You expected it to be more hostile but then again, he’s injured and you can’t beat someone when they’re down can you? But, perhaps what surprised you more than anything was the fact that he was your kin, a prey like you and also, a liar.

See, Jungkook is a forward on the football team, a college athlete and that meant two things. One, he is a predator and two, he’s well-liked. Though the latter is unfortunately an undeniable truth, the first one however, considering what you’ve seen tonight is definitely false. This is important because only predators are allowed to be athletes and a major perk of being an athlete is the scholarship that comes along with it. No matter how good prey shifters are at a certain sport, they would never get to be an athlete and would instead have to compete for academic scholarships which are extremely hard to obtain. So the big question here is how did that fluffy little raccoon book his spot on the football team?

You guess he looks the part of a predator shifter, with a lean body and a fair amount of muscle mass… (not that you were looking at his body at all that is). Also, the fact that he doesn’t cower away from social interaction helped with the predator persona as most prey shifters tend to keep to themselves. Maybe you ought to take a pointer or two from him.

To you, it’s odd that he’s on the football team. He wasn’t an exceptional athlete as per se, in fact if you remember correctly, he spends most matches on the bench. Though you’d argue that even so, he seemed to be more popular than the guys who usually made it onto the first team.

He’s known on campus for being that guy, you know that 10/10 boyfriend guy. He’s the kind of guy you’d take home to your parents because you know they’ll love him, but he’s also the kind of guy that would fuck your brains out... but also the kind of guy that would take you on cute little dates. Yeah, you know, that guy. You’re not sure why you know all of this. Probably because in your first year at the dorms, those around you would not shut up about him, ever. From what you know, he got around but was always clear that he never wanted anything more. He wasn’t the kind of guy to forget names or lead someone on. He was always respectful. From the short flings he had, they always seemed to end... well, on mutual terms and the girls never had anything bad to say other than that he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. Rather, a wholesome fuckboy, if one ever existed.

You could definitely see it. He’s nice, charismatic, that much you deduce as he attempts to make small talk with you now that he’s done with his shower, but you realize he is also definitely trying to avoid getting his wound tended to. You’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to be half naked just a little while longer to garner a reaction out of you or if he was genuinely afraid of the pain that comes with applying antiseptic cream to a raw wound.

“Look, if you don’t want to do it, it’s fine,” You sigh, from where you’re seated on your bed. “I’m not your mother, you can do whatever you want.”

“No, I know it has to happen, but it… it stings,” He frowns, joining you. “Cleaning the area with water was already painful enough.”

“Well, just say whenever you’re ready then,” You sigh, turning away from him to turn on the TV.

“Okay, fine, just do it now,” He mumbles. “But— but be… gentle.”

You almost laugh at the way he looks in front of you right now, all timid and afraid. It was a huge contrast to how he appeared on the banners around school, all proud in his football jersey with his arms folded across his chest.

He winces every so often as you apply the cream to his wound, soft whimpers leaving his lips. You’re trying your best to be delicate, and you think you’re doing quite a fine job because halfway through when you look up at the boy, he’s smiling.

“I wonder what the people would say if they saw big, mean, lion predator tending to my wound right now uwu,” He coos, when your eyes finally meet his.

“Did you actually just say uwu out loud?” You gawk, pulling your focus away from his wound. “You know it’s an emoticon right?”

“Yes, but it’s also a feeling. See, uwu,” He coos again, his voice pitched higher. “It’s a feeling,” He reaffirms, grinning, as if what he had just said made perfect sense.

“Maybe I’ll just stick this cotton bud into your wound, and we’ll see how uwu you’re feeling.”

“Please… please don’t do that,” He grimaces.

Though the wound is not deep, you do think he should at least go get checked for the numerous bruises that litter his skin. He’s in pain, you know that for sure and he’s trying to downplay how much exactly, but you are no fool. Considering that it was a bad fall, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hairline fracture on one of his limbs. Jungkook waves your concern away, simply thanking you when you bandage his wound. He finally, finally puts on his shirt and you expect him to dash out of your house, but he seems to linger, as if he had something to say but he wasn’t quite sure how to say it.

“I see you’re a fan of mine,” He smiles, pointing to the numerous raccoon memorabilia that decorates your bed and side-table.

“Don’t read too much into it. I like the animal, yes, but I didn’t know you were one so, not to worry, I am not a member of the Jungkook fanclub.”

“That’s a shame. I hear the club has nice perks, like you know, quality time with me,” He smirks. “Which honestly speaking, is a rare commodity.”

“My, now I’m just dying to be in the club,” You huff, rolling your eyes. “You know, wouldn’t your fans be disappointed to find out that the guy they’re fawning over is not in fact a predator but a prey instead.”

“About that…” He sighs, hands nervously tugging at the ends of his shirt. “You know we’re in the same boat, don’t you? We’re both sheep in wolves clothing.”

“Nice twist on the idiom, I like it,” You nod. “But, I feel like you’re trying to make a point here. What is it?”

“That if you tell on me, then I’m telling on you,” He mumbles. “I’m not a fan of blackmail but I really, really need this scholarship.”

“Nice to know you think so poorly of me even after all I’ve done tonight but just so you know I have no interest in revealing your secret.”

“That’s not… that’s not how I meant for it to come out,” He sulks. “I just needed to make sure that you and I are on the same page.”

“Yeah, I understand,” You murmur. “I am curious though. How did you cheat the medical test? How did you get them to believe you’re a bear when in fact you’re a raccoon? Shouldn’t you have gone for a more believable animal like say… a fox?”

“Well, for someone who’s such a huge fan of raccoons I’m disappointed by the fact that you aren’t aware that raccoons are more closely related to bears than to either the cat or dog family,” He mumbles. “Thus, I did pick the most believable animal.”

“Well, you learn something new every day,” You hum. “Okay, but that still doesn’t explain how—”

“I hired someone to change the results for me.”

“You can do that?”

“If you know the right people, yeah.”

“Well, apparently I’ve been hanging out with the wrong people,” You mumble. “And your scent… how do you work around that?”

“I can’t use the spray because I’ll basically sweat it all off so I use that supplement… you know the one you see sketchy ads of on TV?”

“Preydator! Tell your fears, see ya later!” You sing-song, imitating the ad you often saw on TV. The jingle was rather catchy. “That one? It actually works?”

“Yeah, for now, but who knows maybe in 20 years after they’ve done adequate research, they’ll tell me that it’s killing me slowly.”

“That’s very disconcerting to hear…” You frown. “If you’re a quote unquote certified predator then you could’ve avoided this by just applying for the academic scholarships. Why didn’t you do that? The requirements are extremely low if you’re a predator.”

“Because I’m good at football,” He says rather nonchalantly. “And I have a bone to pick with the athletic department. Preys should be allowed to be on the team if we’re good enough.”

You almost say but you aren’t that good at football but you guess making it on the bench of the first team is still a feat, so you decide to hold off on that thought.

“So, now that you know all my secrets, it’s only fair that you tell me one of yours,” He smiles. “What are you?”

“Hey, I never said we were going to trade secrets. You just decided to tell me all of yours.”

“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” He frowns. “At least let me guess. Then you can just say yes or no.”

“Go ahead,” You smile. You were positive he wasn’t going to get it right.

“Rabbit? No?” He queries and you shake your head. “What’s… what’s a prey with attitude? Because that’s what you are.”

You only gawk at him. This guy just says whatever he wants. You’re starting to think that everyone else sees a different side of Jungkook or maybe they just excuse his sass just because of his good looks.

“A… frog? Or oh… don’t tell me you’re an insect shifter,” He grumbles with mild disgust.

“You know, that’s really mean but no, I am not an insect shifter.”

“You sure? You could easily be a black widow or maybe you’re one of those poisonous animals like that poisonous sea snail or—”

“Okay,” You huff, annoyed with the boy now. You rise to your feet, pulling him along with you. “You know this was a really nice chat and a very interesting evening, but I have an early class tomorrow so if you could find your way home now, that would be great.”

“But I still don’t know what you are yet,” He frowns.

“Boohoo, neither does most of the campus.”

“See, a prey with an attitude!” He exclaims. “Come on, I’m close, I know it. At least give me a clue!”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” You smile, effectively pushing him out of your apartment with a kick.

“Throwing out an injured comrade like this. You’re heartless,” He fake sobs from the other side of the door before you hear him sigh and make his way down the hallway and out of your life, hopefully forever. Perhaps that was wishful thinking because in a few short minutes you hear hurried footsteps out in the hallway. You pay it no mind, or at least you try to do so but then you see shadows dancing just outside of your door, and when you finally get up to look through the tiny peephole, you find Jungkook standing out there, pacing back and forth as he silently practices a speech.

“Can I help you?” You question after having opened your door to find a very stunned Jungkook.

“Well, Y/N, it’s uhh nice to see you again,” He smiles, nervously so. “You see, the thing is I uhh lost my keys in the sewer, obviously and… you know the management office to my building isn’t open because it’s so late and—”

“Surely you have friends you could call up for help.”

“Well, firstly I doubt they’ll pick up a call this late at night and secondly, since I already shifted, I smell like prey and guess what everyone thinks I am,” He mumbles. “In case you’re struggling, the answer is not prey.”

“I’ll let you borrow my predator scent spray.”

“That’s a novel idea,” He nods, admitting. “But you can also let me stay the night.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“You know more about me than anyone on campus does. I’d argue that you know me very well,” He hums.

“Jungkook.”

“Y/N.”

You sigh, moving to shut the door on him because it was way past your bed time and you do not have the energy to have this conversation right now.

“Please. There’s a lot at stake here,” He begs, using his foot to stop the door. “You know what it’s like for us when we have to lie under pressure… We don’t do very well.”

“You’ve been lying your entire college career so I think you’re pretty good at it.”

“Listen, if there’s any inkling of me being a prey, my scholarship is gone. It’s a risk I don’t want to take,” He frowns. “The lie I tell to my teammates and my coaches, the predator act that I put on, that’s been carefully curated and I’ve gone over it ten thousand times in my head to make sure it’s perfect. I can lie, yes, but only when I’ve had time to prepare. I know you know that too.”

“Fine,” You grumble, moving aside. “You can stay, but… behave.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes once you let him through your door. “Thank you so much. Seriously.”

“You owe me.”

“Yes, undoubtedly. For everything, really,” He mumbles, shy and timid. His sentence is sincere, one you weren’t exactly expecting considering how snarky he had been earlier. He follows behind you closely, stopping beside the bed when he reaches it. You tuck yourself in from the other side and you’re turning to him, ready to deliver your whole spiel of if I find your hand anywhere remotely inappropriate I am going to saw it off, only to find him placing a pillow on your floor.

“What are you doing?” You query, watching him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Going to bed?”

“Why are you putting the pillow on the floor?”

“Well, because I can tell you don’t really want to have me here and I’m probably overstepping some boundaries and I just don’t want to impose really so I’m good with the floor.”

Even though it’s happened a fair few times now, you still find it oddly amusing to see Jungkook behaving like a prey shifter. Always cautious, always timid in unfamiliar situations. Though you do or rather did have some reservations about him, you can tell that he’s perfectly harmless.

“You can sleep on the bed,” You murmur.

“A-are you sure? I mean really you’ve done enough for me and it’s going to be morning in a few hours so it’s okay, really.”

“Jungkook, just get in the bed,” You groan. “You’re making me feel bad now.”

“I just need you to be 100% sure you’re okay with that.”

“Seriously, if you keep asking, I’m just going to kick you out of the apartment.”

“Okay, okay, I’m getting into the bed,” He concedes, quickly picking up the pillow. “Thank you,” He whispers once he finally settles under the blanket.

If he says anything after that, you don’t hear it. It had taken you less than a minute to fall asleep. When you awake in the morning, you expect to find the boy all sprawled out on his side of the bed but instead the covers on his side has been neatly folded, the pillow and your raccoon plushies all arranged in an orderly fashion. Jungkook sure was full of surprises, you note.

Later on when you head to the bathroom, you find numerous post-it notes stuck onto your mirror, all of them filled with apologies.

Y/N, I had to use your predator spray… Really sorry about that and actually just really sorry about the whole of last night. Thank you for being so kind and considerate and though I can’t see you right now, I know you’re making that face. The one you make when you think I’m being sarcastic but really I owe you. Big time. I’ll make it up to you… Though I have a feeling one way you want me to make it up to you is by just never having to see me again haha. If that is so, consider it done.

Love, the biggest member of the Y/N fanclub.

You almost laugh when you reach the end of the note. There’s even a poorly drawn raccoon to punctuate his sign-off. You guess he deserves an A for effort. What surprises you about the note though is how well he had read you from just that one night alone. Perhaps you’re more of an open book than you thought. In any case, you’re glad that last night would be the one and only interaction with him because judging from your past experiences with athletes, you know they only leave you with headaches so, you’re glad that both you and Jungkook are on the same page. In some way, the previous night seems like a fever dream, the whole entire experience so outlandish that you would have never even thought to dream it and for a week or two, you forget that it even happened until you get a reminder of the day, much belatedly.

You come home one day to find a box in front of your door. It has no address and has nothing to indicate the contents of it, until of course you flip it to find a drawing of a raccoon, this time a much better one. In fact it seems like he spent quite some time on it. When you open the box, you find the clothes you had lent Jungkook, washed and even ironed. What makes you smile though isn’t that but rather the small raccoon plushies you find, along with keychains and a phone case. A little note in the box tells you that Jungkook felt odd buying stuff that resembled him but he did owe you and that he hoped this in some way evened out the debt he owed. You think you’re starting to see why everyone goes on and on about how nice he is. At the core, he really is a sweet person. Annoying at times, but sweet nonetheless. In any case, the passing interaction you had with him was nice though you think this will probably be the last you hear from him.

As much as you liked to believe that, you’ll come to find out that the universe seems to have other plans. Because you keep seeing him again and again, and with each time, he seems to knock down the defenses you’ve set up with practiced ease. In fact, it takes him no longer than a week to show up on your front door, begging you for help and like the fool that you are, you oblige.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! As always, feedback is appreciated (:

This was a self-indulgent fic and rly my version of crack tbh. Also this fic is in honour of my buddy that actually drop-kicked a gift he was given. Unlike OC, he was just a dickhead. I really shouldn’t laugh because the poor girl just wanted to give him chocolates but good god, every time I replay the scene in my head I can’t help but laugh. Man, high school was crazy.

[whatshockey]

lua - w.n.

in which two people find that their worlds aren’t as simple in the morning as they’d left them the night before

song used *loosely* for inspiration: “lua” by bright eyes 

warnings: mentions of alcohol, cursing, light smut? is that a thing? pretty angsty, but that’s nothing new.

word count: 2.5k+

a/n: none of my writing has to do with any players’ actual personal lives, so if william’s still with penny (or anyone), this is all completely unrelated! nothing but love and respect here, folks. this is a very ~fake~ concept. [EDIT: fun fact! just found out that the girl in the photo is @madds-hay in case anyone wants to give a follow or ask her what willy’s like in person!]

-

Tempestuous honey laced in her sighs, with sweet amber dripping down and embracing them in the midst of the setting sun and tangled bedsheets. Her lips bit swollen, drunk off of his heavy exhales upon them, and she found herself swimming in the pale pools of blue and ice that bore into her own line of sight. His smirk drenched her in gasoline while his fingertips held the lighter, and it was no question that her skin was set ablaze. Yet nothing compared to the pain of knowing that this fire would soon be extinguished once again.

The first spark lit on a haunting October evening, a thunderstorm stumbling into their lives and banging on their windows, begging to sweep them away. The season had just begun, and she’d found herself wrapped in the arms of a large cable knit sweater she’d patiently waited to return to as the winds blew without rest. A nature documentary illuminated her apartment’s walls alongside the occasional flash of lightning to blind, and served as background noise as her eyes focused on her phone screen in front of her, mindlessly scrolling through viral videos and gossip threads with a now empty glass of Merlot resting on her coffee table.

A harsh knock at her door broke her from her daze, causing her to scramble to her tiptoes and look through the peephole of her front door. What she saw, however, had sent her stumbling back, clambering to unlock her door to the sight of a man clad in an expensive suit, running his hands through his silky hair and resting a frown across his face.

“She’s been sleeping with someone else this whole time.” He stormed in, throwing himself onto her sectional and resting his head in his hands, bouquet of flowers now a mess on her living room floor, no doubt for the woman he’d been referring to.

It was overwhelming. The two could barely count as friends, meeting by chance at private events here and there. They’d come from two very different worlds, with hers found mostly out of the limelight and his not quite the same.

“And he’s a fucking accountant, probably has the personality of a thumb.”

She hadn’t moved from her spot by her door, still shocked and now closing it quietly, padding her way into her kitchen and leaving him to rub feverish circles at his eyes, but only after punching the throw pillow placed next to him.

The situation was ironic - the two had met in similar situations, with her shedding a few tears of an ex lover and him offering the most comfort that a stranger, or perhaps acquaintances at best, could provide. The party was left roaring behind them, shut away by a sliding door as she perched herself on the balcony of the apartment, wondering why she even attended in the first place. She attempted to distract herself with the skyline surrounding her, but after feeling an unfamiliar presence by her, all that she could focus on were the ocean eyes shining under the city lights, sending her a friendly smile and sheepishly shoving a beer in her direction.

“You look like you could use one.”

The same boy was having a mental breakdown of his own now, except this time it was in her own apartment that did not have the luxury of an attractive view or breeze to cool a hot head down. There was one thing that, however as toxic as it may be, always seemed to numb their pain.

“I can’t believe she did it,” he laughed, and for the first time, she noticed it felt soulless. “More than once too.”

Hearing her return, and she doubted he noticed she was away to begin with, he looked up from his palms, eyebrows furrowed at what she was doing. Wordlessly, she poured him a glass, sat down next to him and crossed her legs, and urged him to go on. And he did.

Eventually their talks had become routine, occurring weekly and topics ranged from everything and anything in between. Yet as alcohol continued to replace their blood and lust covered their conscience, he began punctuating his sentences with his lips on her own. And neither could find it in themselves to stop.

Since then, her mind was constantly clouded with images of his lips grazing her thighs and mouthing promises meant to last solely for the night. However, it had soon become clear that roulette wasn’t a game for the faint at heart. That there was no time to prepare, nor dwell on a past move as another is made. Still she balanced on a tightrope, with her heart in one hand and regret in another, playing into the tiring game of charades and deceit as he continued to pull her strings tight, mercilessly suffocating her. And she never asked him to stop, even when she knew he was going to.

How pitiful it was that she missed things that were never hers to begin with.

She cursed herself for not stopping it all to begin with. Had the two just relied on each other for a sense of escape, and it was her fault that she fell harder than intended? That as he crept out her bed at dawn and dressed for practice, she relished in the warmth that remained after he’d left. Only once her bones had ached and her sheets grew cold could she find the strength to stretch her feet to the hardwood floors beneath her bed, the same she wished to stay in with him.

It had been about a month since they’d started this, well, whatever it was. They’d been laying in bed, his smooth skin blanketing hers, and his palms resting on the swell of her hips. Her phone was connected to the speakers, drowning out the noise of his heartbeat matching her own, and a familiar melody strummed out and echoed across the room. One that she’d attached with many fond memories, but with another man she’d once been equally as fond of.

When she attempted to bring it all up, about how it happened and whether he was genuinely okay, he’d respond with a shrug and a  “it gave me an excuse to break up with her, I guess”, sitting up on his elbows and bringing a gentle finger to her face. Once he pushed hair out of her eyes and behind her ear, and she knew that would be the end of the conversation.

She hadn’t known how much time had passed, yet the conversation continued to replay in her mind, although her stomach twisted due to another unwelcome guest. She’d indulged in the only other constant in her life, licking her lips as the poison cascaded down her throat, and her phone rang a familiar tune.

She heard her own voice stammer as he answered her phone, knowing what he’d be calling for at this hour anyways. But her fingers instinctively answered the call, and she could already feel her body crave for his touch.

“Come over?”

She shifted her weight on her feet, biting the inside of her cheek

“I’m busy tonight,” and she knew that he was aware that wasn’t a true statement, as every other week she’d spend her evenings curled in bed binge-watching the latest docu-series she came across.

“I can wait up,” he insisted.

“I seriously can’t.”

“Please.”

“I said I can’t,” She took a deep breath, rubbing her forehead as she grew more irritated.  “I’m on my period, Will.”

“Oh,” he stuttered, couging to clear his throat. “I was actually thinking, um, we could just hang out tonight.”

She could feel her throat run dry as she struggled to form a response. The thought frightened her, and she reached down to her thigh to pinch herself and make sure she wasn’t, in fact, in a strange dream. They’d never just hung out. In fact, there was always a motive behind each of their times spent together, whether that be one comforting the other, or the two of them finding comfort in each other’s bodies.

Perhaps he could sense her hesitation, as he quickly told her that he had already bought snacks and is waiting on his sofa with too much food he could finish on his own, nor should he be allowed to eat it in the midst of the hockey season. And not too long afterwards was she tucked into his side, curling her legs onto his lap and accepting his offer to relieve the pressure that built up during this time of month, his knuckles kneading out her knots and strains.

She wondered what the look he gave her that night, when he’d asked if she was sleeping with anyone else and she immediately shook her head no, had meant. How his eyes flickered with an emotion she never saw before, and how his fingers twitched across her waist before he turned his attention back to the screen before them. She even wondered had he scowled or smiled, but he’d brought his drink up to his own lips before she could see.

It wasn’t long before she was in his apartment again. However, this time in a number he’d cheekily sent to her office with a red ribbon and note that read, “Wear nothing but this tonight.”

What she hadn’t expected was a silk dress to be sitting inside, its expensive material slipping through her hands as she grabbed at it, and silking easily off of her body later that night.

She rolled her eyes as her neck grew warm, and quickly texted to let him know that she received his gift, to which he responded with only one message: “See you at 7.”

He’d picked her up from her apartment,  and drove both of them to some high-end restaurant overlooking Lake Ontario, and if he had told her the plans beforehand, she would’ve declined. While he seemed to be keeping his cool, her chest tightened as the realization hit that they were going somewhere outside of the privacy of their own apartments, and somewhere together.

He hadn’t said anything to her as she knelt to pick up her heels, moving to sit down and put them on. He had, however, watched her with an unreadable expression.

“How’d you know my size?” she asked, tilting her head to the size as he drank in her figure.

He smirked, taking her heels from her hands and kneeling before her to slip them on her feet.

“I’d say I know your body pretty well.”

His response had left her cheeks flaming, and his remarks throughout the night continued to. The thought alone that she followed his orders to truly wear nothing but the dress he had given her was enough to cause the temperature to rise. But right now, as she stood bare in between his legs with a shy smile and uneasiness spreading throughout her bones, her skin was left burning under his igniting gaze, and she melted under his fingertips.

The fire grew unmanageable, however, once he uttered three words into the crevice of her neck, outlining her collarbone with hunger, beginning to devour her with every little taste. His voice was low, yet vehement. But she knew she’d heard him loud and clear.

“I love you,” he groaned, and she had no response except to her clenched her thighs and force an even more breathy statement from him. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

Oh my god.

She wanted to push him off and hit him over and over, to scream and tell him that he can’t, and that it was a mistake. He loved her body, how she made him feel. He loved the momentary satisfaction he received wrapped in her, the state of bliss they’d reach together. He loved how easy it was to find this in her, and not worry about what she’d make of it, because she just didn’t know what to make of it.

She’d left his apartment particularly early that morning, before he could even wake up for practice and kiss her forehead as they parted. She hadn’t responded to his texts asking where she was in the morning or if she was okay.

She should’ve known, however, that he’d be back banging on her door as the moon returned, rushing in to embrace her with heavy breaths as she opened the door. She didn’t know what he expected her to look like, maybe he even thought she was dead, because his grip on her was tight and his face was buried in her hair. She moved her hand to run her fingers through his hair before he began to speak.

“Babe,” he sighed, rubbing his palms up and down her spine, causing shivers to follow. “I’m so glad you’re okay, I was so worried.”

Her eyes shot open and she began untangling herself with him, taking a deep breath and turned to look at him directly as she calmly spoke.

“You need to leave.”

Her heart swelled at the confused look on his face, eyebrows furrowed and an anxious lick at his lips.

“What’s wrong?”

She stepped away from him, asking him again although it pained her to no end.

“Let me help you,” he reached towards her, but she jumped even further back.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she raised her voice, rubbing her temples “I don’t want to see you anymore. Now, please, get out.”

“Is this about what I said earlier?” he asked softly, taking a slow step towards her. “Because if it was too early, if you weren’t ready, I-”

“What?” she almost laughed at how big of a deal it was for her, how embarrassing this whole thing was for her. “You don’t just throw around words like that.”

He moved forward again, but she stepped even further back, tailbone coming in contact with her countertop. “I wasn’t throwing them around, I swear. I meant-”

“I’m scared, Willy.” Her voice wavered, and she couldn’t look at him any longer. “I just don’t want this to change anything between us. Things can’t change between us.”

“Why not?” he questioned, grasping her arms in his own and forcing her to look up at him, eyes pooling with more emotion she thought she had towards him. “What’s so wrong about that? What are you scared of?”

He moved to tuck her hair behind her ear like he did before, except this time he brought his hand to rest at the back of her neck and rest his head against hers.

“Please,” she begged, but her body already gave away, “Just go.”

“I’m right here,” he whispered, as if he’d known that she’d run from his grasp before he could stop her. “I promise.”

She wanted to tell him that she knew that wasn’t true, that their lives were too different and far more complex than he made it out to be. That something could change in mere hours from now, and he could edge his feet away, slip from under her nose and never return.

But as their lips molded together and their bodies pressed into one, her own fears were left shattered at their feet. Time was put on hold, and the chaos that surrounded them outside of their homes’ walls seemed so much more simple when they were together.

And sometimes, things don’t look so different in the light.

[noona-clock]

Which One? Ji Soo - Part 6

Genre: Coffee Shop!AU

Pairing: Ji Soo x You

Warnings: Use of the word ‘Soccer.’ I know non-Americans hate it, and I apologize. But I am American. What can I say? 🤷‍♀️ Oh, and also mentions of alcohol.

Prologue, Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, Epilogue  | Words: 3,951

“Go out?” you asked, your own voice sounding foreign to your ears. It was a bit squeakier than normal, but... what about this situation was normal?

Ji Soo, a very handsome coffee shop owner, had just asked you out.

I mean, you’re pretty sure he was asking you out!

And, like... you couldn’t stress enough just how handsome he was.

So... definitely not your average Saturday night.

“Yeah,” Ji Soo assured you with a nod. “Go out. Like... get dinner? Or see a movie?”

Yeah, he was asking you out.

But there was just one thing stopping you from saying ‘yes’ immediately.

“Do you... have time to go out?” 

Ji Soo chuckled softly, his lips tilting into a half-grin. “I, uh -- I asked Joo Hyuk to cover for me tomorrow night. Last Sunday was pretty slow. I guess people don’t want all that caffeine before they have to wake up on Monday morning.”

Oh, wow, that made your heart flutter. He had prepared for this and everything!

You opened your mouth to say that you would love to go out with him tomorrow night, but -- you stopped yourself.

Because there was just one problem.

“I... actually already have plans tomorrow night,” you said, your brow furrowing. “There’s a game at 7, and I have season tickets, so --”

“A game?” Ji Soo asked. He was clearly confused by what you’d just told him. “Season tickets? What kind of game?”

You weren’t surprised by how surprised he sounded. You were kind of a technology geek, so why on Earth would you enjoy sports?

“Soccer,” you explained with a tiny smile. “The Tigers. I have season tickets. My dad passed down his love of the game to me, and one of the first things I bought with my first real paycheck was a season pass.”

The expression on Ji Soo’s face was still one of confusion, but now there was some amusement mixed in there. “Huh,” he nodded. “Soccer. I had no idea.”

For a split second, you felt bad because you had to turn him down... but then you suddenly had an idea. You gasped slightly, your eyebrows shooting halfway up your forehead.

“Do you want to come with me?” you asked excitedly. “I can see if the seat next to me is open.”

Ji Soo also raised his eyebrows, and you thought maybe he would decline, but the grin tugging at his lips gave you hope. “Yeah? Yeah, of course, I would love to come. That sounds awesome, actually.”

Your heart fluttered for probably the ten thousandth time tonight, and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling like the biggest goofball.

“It starts at 7,” you told him, clutching your laptop to your chest. “Should I pick you up here at 6? We can get food at the stadium.”

Ji Soo slid his hands into his pockets, and even though you couldn’t be absolutely sure, you had an inkling that the expression on his face was just as hopeful and giddy as yours.

“That sounds good,” he nodded. “I’ll be waiting outside right at 6. I know how you like to be on time.”

Oh, boy. First, he had prepared ahead of time to go on a date with you. And now he was promising to be on time because he knew that’s what you like?

The date wasn’t for another 21 hours, but you were already labeling it The Best Date Ever.

“Yes, I do,” you agreed with a soft laugh. “You’re right.”

“You should probably get used to saying that, by the way,” he said casually, taking one hand out of his pocket and reaching out to open your car door for you.

“Saying what?”

“You just said I was right,” he clarified. “You should get used to saying that because I’m right 99.9% of the time.”

You shot him a look which clearly said ‘Oh, yeah, right.’

“It’s true!” he argued, his eyebrows raised earnestly. “You’ll see, it really is true.”

You turned and ducked into your car, setting your laptop on the passenger seat and your bag down on the floor. “Okay, whatever you say,” you sighed, biting back a playful smirk.

“Drive safely,” he said as he leaned slightly against your open door. “Let me know when you get home?”

“I live less than ten minutes away,” you reminded him, chuckling softly but also awkwardly. It had just been such a long time since anyone besides Jane had made a request like that.

“Yeah... but still. Let me know.”

“I will,” you assured him with a nod. And just before you got into your car, you added a quiet, “See you tomorrow.”

Once you were fully and safely seated behind the wheel, Ji Soo gently closed your door and stepped back to allow you to reverse out of the parking spot. He stayed there as you drove away, lifting up one hand in a wave as you pulled out of the lot.

Oh, boy.

Oh, boy, oh, boy.

A date.

Tomorrow.

With Ji Soo.

Obviously, the first thing you did after you got home -- besides texting Ji Soo about your safe arrival, of course -- was call Jane.

You had barely gotten a whole sentence out before her high-pitched squeals filled the air. And your ear canal. You literally had to pull your phone away to protect your eardrum.

“I TOLD YOU!” she cried. “Didn’t I tell you?!”

“Yes, you told me,” you sighed, remembering just the other day when Ji Soo said ‘I told you so’ about your car troubles.

...Okay, now that you thought about it, Ji Soo and Jane were almost eerily similar. They both loved to tease you, they both were quick to point out when they were right, they were both incredibly kind and sweet, they both made you laugh, and... they both made you feel good about yourself.

When they weren’t embarrassing you, of course.

No wonder Jane had been able to predict the course of events between you and Ji Soo. They were practically the same person!

“And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed,” you told her as you held back a huge, goofy grin.

“Gotta get some beauty rest before the big day tomorrow,” Jane squealed. “Not that you need it, but it’s always a plus to use a little less concealer. Night!”

“Good night, Jane,” you murmured affectionately before hanging up the phone.

After you got ready for bed, you settled in under the covers and got out your phone to look for Ji Soo’s ticket for the game tomorrow. Even if you couldn’t find one right next to you, you could trade yours out and find two together easily enough.

Just as you pulled up the ticket app, though, you got an Instagram notification.

TheMugShop (The Mug Coffee) is now following you.

Ooooooh.

You hastily pressed the banner alert, and your phone switched over to the Instagram app, heading straight to TheMugShop’s profile. First things first, you clicked ‘Follow back’ right away. They only had three followers so far (most likely Ji Soo, Joo Hyuk, and now you), but you were sure that would change fairly quickly.

Their bio read:

        The Mug, your favorite locally-owned coffee shop. ☕️         7a - 9p

        all photos taken by @yourusername 

And, to your surprise, there was already a picture posted. It was the picture you and Ji Soo had edited together tonight, one of a green tea latte since it was your beverage of choice (and because the green color was just so pretty) so you quickly clicked on it.

The caption made you both roll your eyes and laugh out loud.

“🍵❤️we like you a latte ❤️🍵come visit from 7-9 and try our green tea latte, a customer favorite”

You would bet five bucks Ji Soo had come up with that. You’d have to remember to ask him tomorrow.

Here’s a question for you:

Why are dates always in the evening?

Most of the time, people are nervous to go on a date. Especially a first date.

So, why would you subject yourself to going through almost the whole day waiting to meet up? Why would you spend hours and hours in anxiety? Why didn’t people just say ‘Hey, let’s meet for breakfast’?

Maybe you would start a new trend. Morning dates!

Except it was too late now. You’d bought a ticket for Ji Soo for the game tonight, and you couldn’t very well change the kickoff time.

If tonight went well, you would bring it up for a second date. Although, you weren’t sure when a second date would happen. Ji Soo worked at the coffee shop every single day from 7-9 -- or at least, for now. They couldn’t afford to pay you to take pictures for them, so surely they couldn’t afford to pay a part-time employee.

To be honest, though... you didn’t care. You were more than happy to just go to the shop, have a drink, and see Ji Soo, even if just for a few minutes at a time. 

But you were getting a little ahead of yourself.

You would see how tonight went and then start worrying about the future.

Somehow -- some way -- you managed to get through the better part of the day without freaking out. You cleaned up the rest of your place since you’d cleaned up your kitchen yesterday, and that alone successfully distracted you for most of the morning and afternoon.

Plus, you kept busy keeping up with the Tigers on Instagram, watching videos of them getting ready to play and getting hyped for the game.

By 5:45 that evening, you were all set and ready to go, donning your team jersey with your favorite player’s name and number on the back, as usual.

You were semi-fine -- meaning not extremely nervous -- until you turned into The Mug’s parking lot and saw Ji Soo waiting by the entrance for you.

Oh, god.

When you pulled up to the front, Ji Soo lifted a hand and grinned at you. He opened the passenger door once you stopped and slid into the seat.

“Hey,” he greeted, sounding far less nervous than you felt at the moment.

“Hello,” you replied. Since you were behind the wheel, you had an excuse not to look over at him. You’d basically seen him as he’d stood outside the shop, and you could tell he looked extra good tonight. You weren’t sure how that was possible, but... apparently, it was.

“How are you?” he asked as he reached back to grab his seat belt.

“I’m excited for the game,” you told him. You decided to leave off the fact you were nervous for the date.

“You’re not nervous for the date?” he asked. You didn’t even need to look over at him to know he was smirking.

Of course. Of course, he knew what you were thinking. He was your best friend in male form!

You felt your cheeks warming as a shy smile tugged at your lips, and you shook your head slightly in disbelief. “Well, yes,” you admitted. “But it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah? I’ve never been to a game before, so I’m curious.”

“Wait, really? You’ve never been to a game?”

“Nope.”

“Like any soccer game?”

“Any soccer game,” he confirmed with a chuckle. “Joo Hyuk has, but apparently, it takes a pretty girl to convince me.”

Awesome. Not even five minutes into the date, and you were already blushing wildly.

“They’re really fun,” you assured him, trying to hide a shy grin. “I mean, I think they’re really fun. Obviously. Hopefully, you’ll have a good time.”

“Oh, yeah. I think I will. I had a good time when we were editing a picture, so I definitely think I’ll have a good time tonight. As long as you’re there.”

Okay, you couldn’t hide your shy grin any longer, and you could feel Ji Soo’s eyes on you.

Judging by the car ride alone, you were in trouble tonight. If Ji Soo kept saying things like that, you were pretty sure your lips would get stuck in this little smile for the rest of your life.

“Have you always blushed so easily?” Ji Soo asked, reaching over and poking your cheek gently.

“Yes,” you chuckled. You shrugged your shoulder to try and push his arm away, but it was more of an instinctive reaction than anything.

“It’s cute,” he murmured. “Like, just on your own, you’re beautiful. But when you blush it’s just so cute.”

“Oh my gosh, can we not talk about me anymore?” you asked with just the slightest whine in your voice. But you still had that smile on your lips; honestly, you were for real on your way to smiling permanently. All because of him!

Ji Soo obliged, though, and he (somehow) managed not to make you blush the rest of the way to the stadium. He asked about the rules of the game, and that kept you talking for the whole ride.

By the time you parked, walked to the stadium, went through security, scanned your tickets, bought some pizza and beer, and found your seats, the team was out practicing on the field.

Ji Soo asked who all of the players were, so you pointed out each one, telling him what their name was and which position they played.

“Who’s on your jersey?” he asked with half a mouthful of pizza.

“Ah,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks blush for the first time in almost half an hour. “Number 16, Martinez.”

Ji Soo’s eyes searched the field, and they narrowed slightly when he found the number 16 jersey.

Of course, you liked Martinez because he was a good player...

But... you would be lying if you said he wasn’t the best-looking guy on the team.

Ji Soo turned his narrowed gaze over to you, and your eyes widened innocently.

“What?” you asked.

“I’m onto you,” he murmured, sounding utterly serious (which you knew meant he was teasing).

“What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You shook your head, still keeping up the innocent act as you ate your pizza.

Ji Soo simply smirked at you, and you had to look away because it wasn’t possible to eat properly if you weren’t breathing.

Once you had both finished your pizza, the game was just about to start. You took a quick gulp of beer as the team came back out onto the field in their uniforms. You stood from your seat and clapped, cupping your hands around your mouth and cheering along with the crowd.

Ji Soo stood up, and you were reminded just how tall he was. Most of the time, either one or both of you were sitting, so it was easy to forget that he not only had the face of a model but the body of a model, too. Tall, slim, but you could tell he was also muscular.

As the national anthem played, Ji Soo leaned over and casually rested his elbow on your shoulder.

And, if you can believe it, it made your heart flutter.

So, literally, everything this guy did had some sort of effect on you, I guess. Even if he was just resting his elbow on your shoulder.

Plus, he smelled really good. He always seemed to smell good, even though he worked pretty much all day, every day.

After the last note of the anthem rang through the stadium, you gulped down your anxiety and leaned just a little bit closer toward your date.

“You smell really good,” you told him, raising your voice over the din of the crowd.

Ji Soo simply smirked before reaching out and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

You were so tempted to just bury your face in his chest, but he had already let go before you could give in to the urge.

Thankfully, the referee blew the starting whistle so you could turn your attention to the game instead of how good Ji Soo smelled. Or how amazing just that one, quick hug had felt.

“Okay, you have to tell me what’s going on,” he said, his voice suddenly close to your ear.

You nodded and began your commentary, making sure to stay close to him so you didn’t bother the people around you. You told him what was going on, you answered any question he had, and you also still managed to react to the game as you usually did.

The first time the ref made a somewhat questionable call, your brow furrowed deeply and you yelled out your disagreement.

“OH, COME ON, REF!” you cried. “THAT WAS A FOUL! ARE YOU BLIND?!”

Now, obviously, you weren’t the only one who was yelling at the ref. But the way Ji Soo was looking at you right now, you might as well have been.

When you glanced over at him, a bit of a guilty smile appeared on your lips. “What?” you asked, chuckling.

“I had no idea you had this side to you,” he laughed. “You just seem so... sweet.”

“I am!” you countered.

“You just asked the referee if he was blind,” Ji Soo pointed out. “That’s not sweet.”

“Well! It was a clear foul!”

You went back to watching the game, but you felt Ji Soo lean in close, placing his lips right by your ear.

“Don’t worry,” he told you. “I like it.”

You simply pressed your lips together, your cheeks blazing.

Since the two of you had opted to buy food before the game, you decided to stay in your seats during halftime while almost everyone else in the stadium left.

“How do you like it so far?” you asked, reaching down to pick up your beer and down the last of it.

“Honestly, it’s a lot more fun than I thought,” Ji Soo admitted. “I don’t know why I always thought soccer was boring, but it’s really not.”

“No, not at all!”

“Joo Hyuk is going to be so pissed,” he chuckled.

“You’ll have to go to a game with him to make up for it,” you grinned, nudging him gently with your arm.

“As long as you come, too.”

“What?” you laughed. “Why do I have to come?”

“Because you’re the best commentator. I feel like I know all about soccer already! ...And because you are ridiculously cute when you’re yelling at the players.”

“Be quiet,” you muttered through your smile.

“It’s true!”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes in amusement.

Before Ji Soo could say anything else, Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” started blaring through the stadium speakers.

“Ooh, Kiss Cam!” you cried, tapping Ji Soo’s arm and pointing up to the jumbo screen hanging from the ceiling. “I love the Kiss Cam.”

“You do?” Ji Soo asked, sounding surprised.

You turned to look at him, nodding -- but then you froze.

Oh... god.

What if... what if the two of you were put up on the screen?

Oh, no no no no no.

Ji Soo would love it, surely, but...

It would be so embarrassing!

The cameramen had no way of knowing this, but it was just your first date! You had only hugged, and it had only lasted less than a second!

Your heart started hammering as couples came and went on the screen, and you could sincerely say you’d never been so nervous watching the Kiss Cam. Every time a new couple showed up, you held your breath, letting it out gently when you realized it wasn’t you and Ji Soo.

When an older couple finished kissing, the Kiss Cam logo came up and the announcer asked the crowd to give all of the couples a round of applause.

Oh, thank god. You had survived.

“Aw, man,” Ji Soo lamented, shaking his head. “I was hoping we would be on it.”

Of course, he would hope that.

Instead of letting him know you were not disappointed in the least, you simply reached over and patted his arm. “I’m sorry,” you said. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “You think there’s going to be a next time?”

You stared at him, blinking, your mouth slightly agape.

Uh...

Ji Soo smirked and lifted his arm, moving to rest it around your shoulders. “There better be a next time,” he smirked.

You couldn’t help but let out yet another sigh of relief.

And then... you settled down in your seat, leaning into him and tilting your head to rest it against his shoulder.

When the game was over (a satisfying 2-0 win for the Tigers, thank goodness), you and Ji Soo shuffled out of the stadium with the rest of the crowd. You headed up the stairs ahead of him, and as the people filed out with you, you felt Ji Soo’s fingers grasp yours.

Thankfully, he couldn’t see your face, but you would be surprised if he didn’t know you were blushing right now.

When you got to the top of stairs, instead of letting go of his hand, you linked your fingers through his more firmly. Ji Soo squeezed your hand as he walked beside you, and you shot him a shy grin.

Eventually, you made it out to the parking lot, and once the two of you were settled into your car, Ji Soo told you to drop him back off at the coffee shop.

“Joo Hyuk is still there, so I figure I should help him clean up some.”

“Can you please apologize to him for me?” you asked as you threw your car into reverse and began to back out of your spot. “I feel bad that he had to work by himself.”

“So, you feel bad for going out with me?” Ji Soo teased.

“No!” you chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” he assured you, reaching over and resting his hand on your thigh briefly. “We’re talking about hiring a part-timer. Hopefully. If business keeps up, we should be able to. And we can pay you for the pictures.”

“No, Ji Soo, I already told you that you don’t need to pay me. The free drinks are more than enough.”

“See? That’s why I thought you were sweet,” Ji Soo pointed out. “But then you started yelling at that ref. Now I’m afraid to ever get on your bad side.”

You simply laughed, shaking your head as you began the drive back to The Mug.

When you arrived at the shop, you pulled up as close to the door as you could since there were no other cars in the lot. You put the car in park and, a bit nervously, you turned toward Ji Soo.

“Thank you for coming,” you said softly. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

“No, thank you for inviting me. I never thought our first date would be a sports game, but that’s one of the things I like about you.”

“...What do you mean?” you asked shyly.

“You’re full of surprises,” Ji soo told you with just the slightest of smirks.

For probably the millionth time tonight, you blushed.

And you wondered if there would ever be a time you didn’t blush around Ji Soo.

“Hey, so...” he continued. “I don’t really want our first kiss to be in the parking lot, but... if you wouldn’t mind...”

Well, the blushing certainly wasn’t going to be letting up anytime soon, was it?

He was asking you if you wouldn’t mind kissing him?

Really?

You didn’t let yourself think too much about it because you probably would have talked yourself out of saying ‘yes.’

And... you wanted to say ‘yes.’

So, you nodded quickly.

Part 7

[longeyelashedtragedy]

this has been the most wild fuckin year so let’s do a Year in Review shall we

in terms of internet and fandom life, that is. my real life has been atrociously boring but who cares about real life amirite folx

january probably the only calm month of the year.  i spent the first day of the month watching the brazilian inauguration in burgos, spain with one headphone in, while ordering for my family in a restaurant where nobody spoke english (my sister speaks decent spanish, but my whole family has like 8194814 food restrictions so it kind of went past her level of ability). translating between spanish and english with portuguese in one year was kind of awesome. i watched bodyguard and it was amazing!  what else...in january i briefly owned the issue of spanish GQ with Luka on the cover which i then forgot about until november. other than that...? nada.  the calm before the storm. (fav music)

february was so long ago that i keep forgetting how insane its 28 days were.  probably the wildest month of the year really. i got involved in an absolutely batshit and exclusive group chat with a famous person’s family member (which must remain confidential). it was all sunshine and rainbows for a week and a half and it then devolved into the most absolutely insane Lord of the Flies situation ever--it turned into 1 main chat and then 1 chat that was less puritanical than the main chat, and that chat spawned another chat that didn’t trust the previous chat, and then that chat had a massive argument and a like 6-person bitchy chat modded by a gay guy who does voodoo (shoutout to ALCIDES) spawned from that one.  i made it into every level of group chat and was asked by the tiny bitchy chat to spy on the other bitchy chat (i did not lol). i was a member of the tiny bitchy chat until i got a new phone and was logged out of whatsapp for like a month.  these words can’t even convey what this chat was like--oh and did i mention it was all conducted in only my 3rd-best language? it’s no wonder my weird ass survived middle school almost entirely unscathed.  as this was winding down, on the very last day of the month, I found out about Justin’s involvement in the SNC-Lavalin scandal and decided to go public about my years-long boner for him; Lavscam definitely changed the course of the rest year ~ Oh, also i began helping to repair a friendship that had had some Drama go down so that was p cool ~ (fav music)

march was a Time. The insanity of lavscam helped me finally finish the macdeau I started writing the previous December when a bunch of tungelr people called me disgusting for writing it.  i wrote my first straight-up serious explicit porn in years which has wound up being the third-longest thing i’ve ever published on ao3. Also, Hozier released Wasteland, Baby! which made a huge impact on me as well.  i spent like half of march staying up till 3:30 am writing said Long Fic, and i was firmly in the closet about stanning manu. also justin almost got a vote of no confidence or something and he got busted for eating a chocolate bar during a parliamentary all-nighter.  (fav music)

in april i wrote a ton of fanfic thanks to declining mental health(tm).  i think this is when i started my emmanuyell insta account and became really into making weird edits (which i still love doing just...don’t anymore.)  i started meeting some cool people thanks to macdeau.  what else happened in april? i feel like it wasn’t actually too eventful other than writing a lot of fanfic and being Annoyed about manu.  feel free to jog my memory lol.  oh i think i wrote “Okay so who from the French national team are we gonna ship Manu with” on twitter after seeing photos of manu + antoine griezmann at the World Cup but nothing came of that...at that time... (fav music)

may saw me having to deal with my shit mental health and up my meds but that seems to have had a good effect because i seem to not be too depressed to write in the winter/fall anymore! it was the 2nd anniversary of manu’s election and at the Christchurch Call in paris, macdeau took that amazing fairytale princess photo together that was completely unrivalled in Gay Shippy Feels moments until ivan went out of his way to kiss luka during the el clásico gameplay last wednesday. someone wrote ao3′s first griezmanu drabble and at the end manu gets down on his knees in front of antoine, takes off his shoes for him, and sucks his dick, and i achieved another state of being entirely.  my sister graduated from grad school and when we went down to DC for the weekend i went to eat at this restaurant manu famously ate at while there and ordered the same stuff he did and i have no idea how he consumed all that grease.  i learned about the song O Come, O Come, Emmanuel *snort*. i feel like other things happened in may too?  OH YES--i got the idea for my magnum opus, Trophy Boyfriend, and started to write it. the first scene i wrote was justin blowing manu in the hallway. then the same day i wrote the scene at the airport (which was the ending for a solid month and half till i realized it shouldn’t be), and the saddest scene in the fic--but we’ll stop to open presents.  oh! and i stumbled across the macronists discord chat which is such a delightful little community *weepy sniffles* (fav music)

june was Eventful.  a french neonazi on tumblr told me to go let manu fuck me in the ass because i was a fucking degenerate.  what a start!  then came the ceremony in which manu awarded everyone on the french national team the legion of honor medal and the way he and antoine looked at each other was truly...Wait it was the 3rd Gay Shippy Feels moment of the year.  as soon as the ceremony was over i wrote a fic about it and haven’t looked back.  between this + watching almost every 2018 World Cup game and the women’s world cup (during which I cried during argentina’s last game because of that miraculous penalty) i finally achieved my years-long goal of getting into Futbol(TM).  Antoine dropped his spotify playlist and my crush on him turned into Intense Love (TM) and also he introduced me to some legit awesome artists.  which led to (fav music)

july, in which i wrote “ça c’est ma dope” which is definitely the best thing i’ve written since i wrote “modernity towering in front of the sky” almost exactly 10 years before. got embroiled in Soccer Transfer Drama and learned its pain for the first time (unfortunately, since i wound up attaching my heart-wagon to barça’s Suddenly Least Favorite Player, the transfer drama pain has...never ended) became a full-fledged culé, O the joy O the honor.  i wanted to ship antoine with someone on the team, which in their current chemistry-less season is a real challenge, but after seeing a few photos i decided it would be fun to casually ship antoine + ivan rakitic (partially because, ever since i went from Enemies to Lovers with the croatia NT during the World Cup, he was one of the only players i knew anything about other than messi, suárez, and piqué lmao). while looking on ao3 to see what kind of headcanons people had about him--and the fic is definitely in general better than what’s out there about antoine, which is perplexing because antoine is much easier to write than ivan--i found That Amazing Rakidric Fic and thought “oh wait that ship makes a lot of sense” and started also shipping ivan and luka with the fire of a thousand suns.  oh and my air conditioner was broken for like 3 weeks. i worked on more fics, seriously outlining the path of Trophy Boyfriend, and my music taste was killer. (fav music)

in august i finished Trophy Boyfriend in my neighborhood Starbucks after writing the scene that was giving me the most trouble (the scene at the beginning where they’re organizing their book collection). the fic has made multiple people cry and people disagree on whether justin’s choice at the end was the right one and god i’m so proud of it.  Instantly went on to write ‘i might not mind,’ a lively lighthearted Friends to Lovers ivantoine~ romp which was definitely going to be a one-off and i was definitely not going to get an extra celeb crush out of it,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, (fav music)

in september ivantoine became A Thing in my mind and it’s a whole ongoing slow-burn character-arcy series that has taken a very different turn than i had expected. i’m not saying it’s like, the most deep writing of all time, but it’s gone to some interesting places emotionally. honestly, ships and boners aside, the concept of a person who made some really stupid homophobia 101 comments many years ago slowly realizing over and over again that they have gay feelings for a man who seems rather comfortable with gayness is a fascinating one and one that’s really cool to explore in writing.  Or at least, i think so.  in many ways ivan is my most unreliable narrator because of the many layers of Discomfort, Emotion and Repression at play in the fic while he’s interacting with this pretty cheery and uncomplicated seeming-dude who’s still perceptive enough to sort of know what’s going on (and that’s not even adding in the star player/falling from grace former rockstar dynamic!!!)  i know in the current climate it’s Not Allowed to write about someone who said a bad, but luckily i’m too old to give a Fuck. ivantoine is hard to write but it’s my bff’s favorite ship of mine and has a few other excited fans on ao3 which tbh is kind of an accomplishment considering i made it up out of thin air and it’s not something you’d ever think would be a thing. instantly also developed ‘getting called out about ivan by a child on the internet’ as a goal.  and...i achieved my dream of leading high holiday services!!! (fav music)

october had more high holiday services and i worked a lot on certain fics (including d*janfic which would be fun to finish). i came up with the idea of a Very Long Rakidric Fic based on the translation of a gorgeous croatian folk song i sang in college (Janko fell asleep under the poplar/My dear and beloved/My beautiful dark eyes/Look at me/Under the poplar's golden branch/My dear and beloved/My beautiful dark eyes/Look at me/I tore off the golden branch/My dear and beloved/My beautiful dark eyes/Look at me--in which the golden branch is a reference to a way to get into the underworld). decided to start quarter-assedly learning croatian for fun.  Fun...ha.  other than fangirling a lot and watching the croatian NT play, october was pretty uneventful? i think? Justin got reelected and mauricio didn’t ;( (fav music)

in november i finally achieved my dream of having a literal child on the internet call me out about being attracted to a homophobe.  (they were a madridista even!) accidentally started writing some more rakidric and now i’m seriously hooked.  also accidentally came out of the closet about the secret crush i’d been harboring on luka modric and then one fateful day in the ihop on 14th st i realized i’d had this crush already and repressed it from my memory. Don’t do that kids! now it’s Hurting Really Bad. Ivan dropped the most pathetic and candid interview like...ever and i hope “¿Cómo puede disfrutar uno? Jugando al fútbol. ¿Cómo se siente mi hija pequeña cuando le quitan un juguete? Triste. Yo me siento igual. Me han quitado la pelota, me siento triste” goes down in the history of most epic futbol quotes of all time.  (still haven’t actually been able to watch this because no one has uploaded it anywhere)  What else...............Am i forgetting anything? i celebrated my birthday with @tender-vittles in epic fashion after two years of Not doing that, and turned 32 going on 15.  enjoyed my first-ever “x reader” fic (zlatko dalic x reader LOL) and finished “drive your plow over the bones of the dead” which was real fucking good. i saw hozier live and it was a religious experience and i unexpectedly cried during nina cried power and then called myself “Luka B” when ordering at the classy taco bell across the street after getting a glimpse of alexxx ryan in the flesh. (fav music)

now it’s december and my seasonal depression is a little worse than it’s been the past few years but i’m managing.  still shipping and writing and i just got called out about ivan again last week.  i’m 2 for 2 here!  el clásico was boring but also it was gay and my heart my heart my heart ! Anything could happen in the last 10 days of this year and honestly...I’m pretty sure I’m ready.

Most importantly this year, despite it being not that great in a lot of ways, I developed a lot more self confidence, made many important realizations, and became a lot more peaceful (despite how this post makes me sound) and wiser and less bitter and pessimistic.  And i became outspoken enough about antisemitism on the left to lose friends over it...3 for 3.  i can’t say i’m displeased with these developments.

Hasta 2020! <3

[creativerogues]

Hunger of Yeenoghu: Turning Normal Monsters into A Full Campaign...

Hunger of Yeenoghu: A Campaign about Gnolls!

“-They see signs from Yeenoghu everywhere, even in blood splatter.-”

- Elminster

The madness of the gnolls spreads, their hunger grows and nothing shall satiate it...

Yeenoghu’s madness extends...

He yearns to create a world where his gnolls are the last creatures left alive, tearing one another apart for the right to feast upon the endless dead.

Hunger of Yeenoghu is a campaign I’ve ran several times in many different versions of D&D because not only does it take a pretty ‘meh’ opponent, a Gnoll, and make them a terrifying force of madness, but it allows for the campaign to span multiple continents and means players have the freedom to explore what the heck is making these gnolls so damn crazy and hungry, but also let’s them fight a demon lord at the end! Yay?

I’ve wanted to share this for a while now, but wanted to make sure I had as many resources to share as I could find to really help any DM out there create a Campaign centered around Gnolls and their endless hunger and devotion to Yeenoghu...

This is also a way to show people how you can make an entire campaign based around just a few creatures from the Monster Manual, in this case, Gnolls!

I’ve had many long chats with people in the Community saying “I wanna make a campaign based around this monster” and I thought I’d show how I would go about making a campaign...

Things you can do for this Campaign:

1. Show Gnoll Culture, Religion and Society

A lot of common folk see Gnolls as savage beasts with endless hunger, and while a lot of the time they are, they do have at least some form of order in all that madness.

Gnolls have placed a very strong value on family for instance, respecting blood ties perhaps more than any other aspect of a relationship.

They work in packs, and though gnolls within a pack will fight with each other for dominance, these battles are quickly forgotten after their resolution, and in most situations, gnolls of the same bloodline are loyal friends and allies to one another.

This loyalty to family was particularly obvious during combat, Gnolls who fight side by side regularly will throw away personal glory in order to help their brethren.

This is all from the ‘Gnoll’ section of the Forgotten Realms Wikia, but just from this you can see there’s more to Gnolls than simply just killing whenever they’re bored...

2. Show Variant Gnolls

It is believed by some that gnolls have traces of demonic blood, which may be evidenced by unusual features found among some of the gnoll bloodlines. These may include talons, gleaming red eyes, or black fur with fiery orange spots.

- Forgotten Realms Wikia

Gnolls, much like people in real life, come in all shapes, sizes, colors and personalities.

And even in 5th Edition there’s many different stat blocks for different types of Gnolls...

But you can see just from scrolling down and reading more of the resources I’ve put at the end of this post that there are many many different types of Gnolls from older editions that you could very easily create stat blocks for in 5th Edition.

Sure, your Players have probably fought a Gnoll or two before, but what happens when that Gnoll’s body suddenly shifts and twists into the form of a giant hyena, and starts pouncing on the party with it’s disease-ridden bite attack...

Not only does it provide a little variety in the Gnolls that you’ll be throwing at your Players, but it catches them off guard and makes them say “Wait. WHAT?” when you show them something they’ve never seen before...

Simply just take the stats of a 5e Gnoll, change nothing about them at all, but describe this gnoll as being unusually tall, with long thin talons for claws and deep black fur across it’s body, with fiery orange hyena-like patterns of spots across it’s back, and as the party stares they see in this gnoll’s skull two bright, gleaming red eyes staring back at them, as the head twists back and releases a howl...

Again, just a regular ol’ gnoll in terms of stats, but describing the varying appearance of a gnoll makes the players go ‘Oh neat!’ or even ‘That guy’s a badass, stay away from him.’ even though stats-wise it’s just a normal gnoll that looks different... 

3. It allows a DM to be truly Mad and Brutal

You could literally start the campaign off with Level 1-3 Characters chill-laxing in a small town, and then BOOM! GNOLLS ATTACK! 

BLOOD EVERYWHERE! Dead bodies hitting the ground left and right and the players realize they are not gonna get outta there alive unless they run, and only when they escape the town and look back do they notice the scale of the assault...

This kind of campaign lets the DM go truly mad, since all gnolls care about is trying to feed their endless demonic hunger with the flesh of sentient beings.

Gnolls are gathering and their hunger grows with each passing day. Sometimes the party will just have to run away because they know that not only are they outnumbered, but these gnolls are willing to fight to the death for food...

4. Show the ‘Madness of Yeenoghu’

‘A blood red sun hangs low in a sickly green sky, illuminating the slaughter...’

That’s just one line to describe how Yeenoghu’s madness begins to spread, and the gnolls only see it as a sign of love from their demon lord patron.

Perhaps even describe how the players themselves start to feel a sickly hunger building in their stomachs, one that can only be satisfied by drinking the blood of another, by consuming the flesh of their allies... 

Show them what it’s like to feel the endless agony that is the hunger of a gnoll.

Gnoll Stats, Resources & The Different Types of Gnolls

5th Edition

Gnoll: If you’ve gotten to this point in the post and still don’t know what a Gnoll is, shame on you. But if you don’t know, well I’ll explain:

Gnolls resemble human-hyena hybrids, they’re carnivorous, brutal, savage and they’re always hungry.

Fang of Yeenoghu: Sometimes Yeenoghu rewards his Gnoll worshipers by allowing one of them to be possessed by a demonic spirit. Marked as Yeenoghu's favorite special good-boy gnoll, the lucky recipient becomes a Fang of Yeenoghu, the chosen of the Gnoll Lord.

Gnoll Packlord: The alpha of a gnoll pack is the pack lord, ruling by might and cunning. A pack lord earns the best of a gnoll pack's spoils, food, valuable trinkets, and magic items. It ornaments its body with brutal piercings and grotesque trophies, dyeing its fur with demonic sigils, hoping Yeenoghu will make it invulnerable.

Flind: A flind is an exceptionally strong and vicious gnoll that commands and directs the war band it is a part of. It wields a flail imbued with powerful magic by Yeenoghu himself. 

Gnoll Flesh Gnawer: If any group of gnolls could be said to be more feral than the others, that distinction would go to the flesh gnawers. These gnolls eschew the use of ranged weapons in favor of short blades that they wield with speed and efficiency.

Gnoll Hunter: Hunters are the stealthiest gnolls in a war band, and they put their talents to use on the battlefield picking off isolated opposition while clearing the way for the rest of the force to run roughshod over the enemy's territory.

Leucrotta: A leucrotta is what you would get if you took the head of a giant badger, the brain of a person who likes to torture and eat people, the legs of a deer, and the body of a large hyena, put them together, and reanimated them with demon ichor without bothering to cover up the stink of death...

Gnoll Witherling: By invoking rituals to Yeenoghu, they bring the remains of a dead gnoll back to some semblance of life in the form of a gnoll witherling.

Shoosuva: A shoosuva is a hyena-demon gifted by Yeenoghu to an especially powerful gnoll (typically as a Fang of Yeenoghu). A shoosuva manifests shortly after a war band achieves a great victory, emerging from a billowing, fetid cloud of smoke as it arrives from the Abyss.

4th Edition

Gnoll Huntmaster: A Gnoll Huntmaster often delays its initial turn, waiting until its allies move in and attack. The creature stays at the edge of its range, attacking with its longbow and using its ‘Pack Attack’ feature to deal extra damage.

Gnoll Claw Fighter: This gnoll charges into the fray, using melee attacks to make claw attacks, positioning itself to reap the benefit of its ‘Pack Attack’ feature to deal extra damage.

Gnoll Marauder: Gnoll Marauders gang up on a single target to gain the benefit of their ‘Pack Attack’ feature. It uses its ‘Quick Bite’ against any foes on low hit points whenever possible.

Gnoll Demonic Scourge: This gnoll leads weaker gnolls into battle, imparting the benefits of its ‘Leader of the Pack’ aura while commanding nearby allies to concentrate their attacks on one target at a time.

Deathpledged Gnoll: A Deathpledged Gnoll vows to die destroying the enemies of Yeenoghu. Its dark oath and a thirst for blood make this creature a frightful foe. In return for its vow to its demon lord Yeenoghu, a deathpledged gnoll can temporarily shrug off death with potent demonic powers.

Gnoll Gorger: All Gnolls devour the flesh of sentient creatures, but Gnoll Gorgers gain strength in battle by feasting on their own kind...

AD&D First Edition

Ghuuna: Ghuuna (the form is singular and plural) are related to gnolls in much the same way that lycanthropes are related to humans. However, ghuuna are the result of a special type of quasi-lycanthropy created by Yeenoghu that affects only gnolls, causing them to change into a giant hyena-like form. 

In their normal unchanged form, ghuuna appear to be large gnolls. In this form they shun armor and usually carry swords as weapons. In their giant, hyena-like form, ghuuna can deliver a ‘Crushing Bite’ for 4d4 points of damage.

In addition, their bite can inflict "ghuunism" among gnolls in the same manner that lycanthropy is spread by regular were-creatures.

Humans and humanoids (other than gnolls) who are bitten must succeed on a constitution save or be affected by disease, which can be cured by a healing spells or similar magic. 

Each ghuuna can command and control hyenas, although they cannot summon them.

Wherever ghuuna to be present in a war band, they act as leaders and protectors. Only gnoll shamans and strong chieftains have more "push" in a gnoll band than ghuuna do. 

Female ghuuna are nearly the only respected females in a gnoll band. 

Ghuuna may communicate with hyena in addition to speaking the usual languages a gnoll may know.

They rarely intentionally spread "ghuunism" among gnolls, preferring to be "the few and the proud."

Gnoll Research Resources

There are many resources besides Wikipedia and Wikia that can give a BUNCH of info and lore on Gnolls, the different types, their mythology, culture, religion, society, their worship of Yeenoghu, the Demon Lord of the Gnolls and more...

So rather than name each of them and what each contains, I’m simply going to make a bullet point list of every resource I can find so you can do your own reading and research:

5th Edition: Volo's Guide to Monsters (2016)

5th Edition: Monster Manual (2014)

4th Edition: Monster Manual (2008)

4th Edition: Monster Manual 2 (2009)

4th Edition: Dragon Magazine #367, ‘Playing Gnolls’ (2008)

3.5e: Monster Manual (2003)

3rd Edition: Monster Manual (2000)

3rd Edition: Monster Manual III (2004)

2nd Edition: The Complete Book of Humanoids (1993)

2nd Edition: Player's Option: Skills & Powers (1995)

2nd Edition: Dragon Magazine #173 ‘The Sociology of the Flind’ (1991)

2nd Edition: Monstrous Compendium Volume One (1989)

2nd Edition: Monstrous Manual (1993)

1st Edition: Dragon Magazine #89 ‘Creature Catalog’ (September 1984)

1st Edition: Dragon Magazine #63 ‘The Humanoids’ (July 1982)

1st Edition: Fiend Folio (1981)

[the5sosdumpster]

Badboy!Cal Part 5

Masterlist

Request

Warnings: none

A/N: so this is kinda late lol but I finally got a plot I love, so here we go! Part 5! Part 6 coming soon (cred to @thicc-bread​ for editing)

Part 1//Part 2//Part 3//Part 4//

Sighing, I look in the mirror and give myself a small pep talk. Sure, the situation wasn’t the best, but I have to make the most with what I’ve got, right? After the boys saw Calum and I in bed, they offered to leave, but Cal told them they could stay. They went into the living room to give us some privacy, and once they were gone, Calum and I started to get dressed. I told him I was going to run to the bathroom really quick, so here I am, freaking out, but this is what I asked for, this is what I wanted. I can hear him and his friends talking outside in the living room, but they’re in hushed tones, making my hands sweat and my mouth dry. Maybe they will give me the answers I’ve been dying to have as to why Calum has been so distant with me. Is he hiding something? Is that why I shouldn’t be with him? Ready for some real answers, I take a deep breath and walk out the door of the bathroom and through Cal’s room to where the boys are. Just as I round the corner, Michael I think it is, is saying in an urgent yet hushed tone, “Calum, you do realize she’s-”

He stops and his wide eyes flicker from Calum’s, up to mine. Cal turn around from his spot on the couch and gives me a small smile, beckoning me over to sit next to him. The rest of the boys watch me as I plop down, and when I look up I see all of them looking at me. I laugh nervously, “what?”

They all shake their heads and the boy who was just speaking about me turns and holds out his hand, “I’m Michael.” I smile and shake his hand, and the rest of the boys follow in suite. After introductions, Luke quickly suggests a game of Fifa and the rest of the boys join in. Luke and Michael are playing against each other and Ashton and I are watching closely, each yelling and rooting on another player. I giggle at something Luke says and turn to look at Calum, only to see he’s no longer sitting next to me. Furrowing my eyebrows I stand up and head into his room to see the balcony door slightly cracked open. I silently walk up to it and slowly open the door. He’s leaning against the railing, looking out across the city in front of him with a cigarette in his hand. He must have heard the door because he turns to look back, and his face softens from it’s serious expression, “hey,” he says, standing up right. I walk up to him and he drapes an arm over my shoulders, taking another drag from his cig.

He looks lost in thought, and I gently nudge him with my elbow, “you okay?”

The nudge startled him, almost as if he forgot I was right there, and he nods his head quickly, “just thinking s’all.”

I hum in response, “wanna enlighten me on what’s going on up there?” I tap his head and he chuckles, “nothing special.”

A moment of silence passes between us as I watch him look out across the balcony. The afternoon sun sweeps across his face making him have golden streaks, and I find myself staring at his completely natural beauty. Never in my life had I thought I would be standing here, on Calum Hood’s balcony, watching him smoke while his friends were inside messing around. I remember when I first saw Calum, it was my first day of college; we had a couple classes together. The college I go to is just a 25 minute drive from the town where I grew up, and to me, that is the perfect distance so I can come home whenever I wanted. When I walked into that literature class, he was the first thing I noticed in the room, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He, however, always debated with me in our classes, fighting everything I said and glaring at me while doing so. It became apparent to most of people who witnessed us that we came to have a mutual hatred for each other. I could never figure out why he hated me so much, but I couldn’t focus on it long since every time I saw or thought of him I could feel my blood boil. To think that I would eventually wind up in his bed, is beyond belief.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout, pretty girl?”

“Oh, you know, nothing special,” you smirk at him, using his words from earlier. You pause for a moment, catching his eyes, as he puts out his cigarette. He pulls you in for a short hug and kisses the top of your head while you bury your face into his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso. You breathe in his scent and let out a sigh, before pulling away, “I should go home.. shower and change,” you trail off, starting to head to the door, but Calum stops you. “Wait, don’t go, stay for dinner,” his eyes pleading you to stay and you sigh.

“What about the guys? I don’t wanna make it awkward…” you say, thinking back to the tense atmosphere you’d walked out to earlier. Cal shakes his head and rubs his thumb on your arm, his warm eyes looking at yours, “the boys are about to leave, take a shower here, I’ll give you some clothes,” he gives you a hopeful smile, “stay.”

You smile and nod your head, “okay.” You both walk back into his room and he grabs one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers, and you head into the bathroom. You quickly hop in the shower, the warm water relaxing your tense muscles. When you’re done, you towel off and slide Cal’s shirt over your wet hair and pull on his boxers. Looking in the mirror, you comb through your hair with your fingers before walking out of the bathroom. The smell of food instantly hits your nose and you smile as you turn the corner to the kitchen. Calum is standing with his back facing you, stirring something in front of him, and you hop up on the counter next to him.

He smiles at you, “shower good?”

You hum and nod, “yeah, thank you. Thanks for the clothes too.”

“Of course, the food’s almost done if you wanna grab us a couple plates,” he says motioning to the cupboard next to you. You jump down and grab the plates, setting them on the counter while he strains the pasta. You both serve yourselves and go sit down across from each other at the small dining table.  You two talk back and forth about school and upcoming assignments as you eat dinner, and when you’re done you thank Calum for cooking. You offer to help with dishes, so you wash them while he dries and puts them away. Whilst you two work, few words are shared and a silence falls between you two until you break it.

“So… what now?”

Calum’s eyebrows furrow and you further explain yourself, “why did you ask me to stay, Cal?”

He fiddles with the towel in his hand and mumbles, “oh, I just, uh wanted more time with you, I guess,” he smiles sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck before continuing, “people don’t usually want to stay… it’s just been me and the guys for a while now.”  

“I wanted to spend more time with you too,” his whole face lights up at your words. He tosses the towel onto the counter and takes your hands in his.

“Yeah?” he grins at you. When you nod at him, he grabs your face and gives you a passionate, but quick kiss. “Let’s fucking do this then.”

[thepatricktreestump]

I Love Her Anyway: Chapter 15

A/N: ok so i’ve been rereading some of these chapters and there’s a shit ton of typos, grammar mistakes, random letters and spaces throughout them- i think you should know that while i type my bearded dragon likes to jump on my keyboard and i don’t always catch the little mistakes he adds so if you catch those, blame him because i spend hours rereading and editing only for him to trample on my keyboard like the little shit he is sooo this has been a psa thanks for coming to my ted talk

the tag list that i apologize to for having experienced the pain of ch14: @cupcakesweetness @un-amoosed-padalecki @mtb04308 @dragonqueendany @kitykatnumber @svintsandghosts @greatheromuffinpalace @echoloki @geekybeauty8793 @jigglypuff1999 @timisnotmontydlc @galaxy-moon @lugialagia @pageoftheclouds @moveondontholdon @myaestheticsareshit @brendonuriehimself @yagirlcammmm @vessyvk @loverontheleft @rupphirerydenphan @uriellybrendon @converse-or-vans @amazingtyjo @pettyiestpersonyouknow

to the people who have asked to be tagged this past week: *politely whispering* um, sorry but no

               Days at the bakery are slow and boring. Being at school feels like being imprisoned. Staying at home is even worse, hours of lying in bed crying, texting and calling and emailing only to find no response. It went on for weeks. Days upon days of depression, people asking if you were okay, your parents even thinking you were sick. You couldn’t even muster up a smile. Your brother even brought you home some ice cream one day, as much of a prick as he was. Everyone could sense something was wrong, but it was you who sensed it the most. It was like your life was falling apart without him there to be the glue to hold it all together. You needed him. So much.

               The pain only got worse, more vomiting and headaches, and also being hungry. Like, really fucking hungry. You craved the blueberry muffins at the bakery and begged Ashley to bake you batches to take home, mowing them down one after another. You were kind of worried about developing an eating disorder, but you reassured yourself it was better than turning towards a worse form of self-harm, especially after the break up. You strayed away from kids at school, became particularly quiet, and spent your lunches in the library rather than the cafeteria. You wanted to be alone.

               You were throwing up in the employee bathroom for the third time this week when Ashley knocked on the door. “Hey honey?” she called out. “Maybe just take off your shift, okay?”

               “No, I’m fine,” you reassure, flushing the toilet and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before opening up the door. “I’m alright.”

               “You sure it’s just being sick? This has been going on for about a month or two now,” she frowns. There’s a pause. “Are you late?”

               “What?” you raise an eyebrow. “No, I came five minutes early today.”

               “No,” she shakes her head. “Like, late. Period late.”

               “Well…” you feel sick at the realization. “It’s been three months but I’m sure it’s just irregular or something.”

               “Is there a chance?” she whispers. “You know? That you might be… pregnant?”

               “What?” your eyes widen. “No, no, of course not.” You laugh nervously, but fuck, there so definitely is. Especially after all the shit you and Brendon were pulling, or I guess, not pulling, last month. He reassured you that you’d be fine, and you didn’t think much of it, but shit. You didn’t use condoms and you were usually so fucked up you didn’t even really pay attention. Fuck. There was no way. Was there? You felt even more sick.

               “Oh, well maybe see a doctor?” she suggests. “Anyways, I want you to go home. Rest up. I’ll see you back here next week.”

               “Okay,” you complied.

               However, you didn’t just go home. Instead you drove to the nearest gas station, heart racing in your chest, fiddling thumbs and wobbly knees perusing the aisles until you landed on a pregnancy test in a tiny slender box. You had to find out somehow, right? You bit down on your lower lip as you approached the cashier, setting it on the counter silently. You hand over the cash and then he hands you the bag, you nodding in thanks before heading back to your car. When you get home, you race to your room and lock the door, heading to your bathroom and tearing the box open. You read the directions with hazy vision and do as told, then set it on the sink and wait. It’s the longest three minutes of your life. You’re almost hitting the mark when you hear your mom walk through the door and you scramble up out of your seat when she calls your name.

               “Y/n! Help me carry these groceries!” she shouts.

               You race down the stairs to help her, easily getting side tracked once she asks you to wash the dishes and then help cook dinner. You forget about the ordeal completely. You’re at dinner and your dad is rambling on about how some inspector is coming in to check the building tomorrow and your mom is talking about some new television show airing tomorrow night and your brother is blabbing about some football player who got injured and can’t play for the team anymore. Instead your mind is focused on the food, getting seconds and thirds, making your mom chuckle.

               “Really enjoying the food, huh?” your dad laughs.

               “Just hungry,” you shrug, piling more into your mouth.

               After dinner, you’re sitting on the sofa when you hear your mom call your name again. You don’t give it a second thought, switching the television off and going to go find her. That is, until you see her at the doorway of your room with your father, holding your pregnancy test in her hand. You turn pale and you think you just might pass out. This was not at all how you thought it would go. “What the fuck is this?” she holds it up for you to see. “Are you pregnant? Are you kidding me right now, y/n?”

               “I- I, I, I don’t…” you stammer, dumbstruck.

               “Talk. Now,” your father demands. “Is this real? Are you pregnant? Have you been having sex with boys? Is that where you’ve been those past few months, staying the nights at friend’s houses? You’re really out being a whore? Disgusting.”

               “You need to realize that your actions have consequences,” your mom scolds. “I can’t believe you. We trusted you.”

               “You need to tell me who this young man is right now,” your dad insists. “This instant.”

               “He’s just my boyfriend,” you quickly lie, going along with what they had implied. “I was staying at his house when I told you I watched the movie and hung out with friends and went shopping and stuff. I met him at school, we’re not together anymore, I just-”

               “Jesus Christ,” your parents shake their heads.

               “Y/n, I can’t believe you,” your mom stares at you, devastated. “Really? Pregnant?”

               “I didn’t-” you stop trying to save yourself at this point. It’s no use.

               The rest of the night is full of yelling, screaming, explaining using fibs and lies, your brother eavesdropping from the other room. You break your phone on purpose before they can get it, smashing it on the bathroom tile before drowning it in the sink. If they ever saw your texts between you and Brendon, you’d be toast, and things would only get a thousand times worse. They get even angrier once they find out what you’ve done to your phone, but you don’t care. If you can save him at least, then it will be worth it. But you have to talk to him somehow.

               Your parents strictly instruct you that you’re grounded. You’re only allowed to leave for school, work, then straight home and in your room. You don’t know how long it will last. They schedule appointments for getting you tested for sexual diseases, which you’re embarrassed about, as well as a gynecologist and a pregnancy doctor. It seems a little early to you, but your parents are relentless and aren’t in any mood to argue. You didn’t really care to be pregnant. It only made the reminder of him leaving you even more engrained in your mind, in your body, in your soul. It only made you miss him more. Plus, you felt miserable, shitty, crampy, sweaty, hot, hungry, and bloated. Night after night you would lay awake, missing him, worrying about the future, and holding your hand over your stomach, wondering how the hell this all happened in the first place anyways.

               It’s in the middle of school, during your lunch in the library, when you’re on the computer and the notification pops up. It’s the last thing you would ever expect. Brendon. You have to blink to make sure you’re seeing it right. Your heart almost falls out of your chest when you click on the email he’s sent you and you begin to read. “Dear y/n, I’m sorry for the way things have turned out. I didn’t mean to have to leave you. In fact, it was never my choice. I would do anything to try and save you, but I know if I would make a move, it would only hurt you, and I would never want that. I am sorry I haven’t contacted you sooner, my workers have kept a close eye on me ever since our split, and I’m not even alone in the office anymore seeing as I’ve been hired a new secretary. She’s not nearly as beautiful as you are, and her humor is bland and boring. I miss you, so very much. Anyways, enough of the babble. Your father had spoken to me about the new discovery, and I can only imagine I’m the culprit of the situation. You’re pregnant, is what he tells me. And if I know you well enough, you haven’t been off fucking other guys so quickly after the split, because neither have I. It has to be from us, and I apologize about it. We need to see each other and we need to work this out. From what your father tells me is that you said it was a boyfriend at school, which is quick thinking and I like it, but we need to be real. We need to do this together. I plan on having a meeting with my workers tonight and updating them. Maybe they will change their minds. Nobody knows I’m sending this email to you, so please don’t respond. Instead look for me at the bakery during your shift this week. I’ll be there. I’m not giving up on us. I’m not giving up on you. With all the love I possess, Brendon.”

                You don’t know what to think or say. Instead you just press your hand to your stomach and think that everything’s going to be alright. He’s still there for you, he’s still thinking of you, and he still loves you. That’s all you could ever ask for. The rest of the day you constantly find yourself checking the clock, waiting until you can get out and head to the bakery. You wonder what he’s going to do. Your mom’s already instructed Ashley to keep your working and to make sure you’re there on time and to text her when you leave. They’ve been running a tight ship ever since the night of chaos, and you’ve barely even had time to yourself unless you’re at school. Which by the way, you faked a name to your parents to pose as your fake boyfriend, which accidentally actually ended up being a boy at your school, and you kind of got him a restraining order by accident, but that was the least of your problems. You don’t even understand how it could’ve happened, seeing as he probably didn’t even know you and couldn’t attest to you guys ever having sex in the first place, but somehow, it happened. It was word of the school for a good two days and even some of your friends came up to you bugging you about it. Nobody knew you were pregnant though. Nobody but your parents and brother, and now Brendon of course. Everyone else just thought you were in deep shit, did something crazy, pissed your parents off, and now you were watched like a hawk. They weren’t wrong. That all did happen.

               As soon as he walks into the bakery you can barely breathe. All you want is to run up to him and wrap him in your arms, hold him tight, kiss him on the lips, tell him how much you’ve missed him. But you can’t. Instead you stand there, limbs shaking, feet glued to the ground, staring at him like an idiot behind the counter. “Hey, I’d like a slice of apple pie. Boxed and for the road,” he simply orders. “And one brownie.”

               “C-coming right up,” you stammer, calculating his order and fetching a box and a bag to put his goodies in. He hands you the cash and that’s when you notice a piece of paper folded up on top of the dollar bills, and so you take that and stick it in your pocket. He nods with approval, giving a smile.

               “Thanks,” he says, taking his things and leaving.

               It’s just that simple. Just that quick. And still not enough.

               The piece of paper tucked inside your pocket feels as if it’s burning all throughout your shift. You’re itching you go open it up and read what’s inside. You even almost go to use the restroom just so you can read it, but realize that if you do that, it would only be eating you up even more. So you wait. You take on customers and fill out orders and count the money and then get off shift, driving home, thinking of him and only him. The way he walked in, still in his work clothes, dark eyes, wide smile, smooth gait, confident stature. You missed him. So much.

               As soon as you go home to use the restroom, you lock the door and unfold the piece of paper, eyes darting around to make sense of the message. “I love you y/n. I’ve talked to the workers and I think they understand now. At least a little better than they once did. Although they don’t agree with what we’ve done, they agree with what we plan to do, and that’s getting through this together. Tomorrow when you get to school, I want you to ask to go to the nurse’s office at exactly eleven. That’s my lunch break and that’s when I’ll be there to pick you up. You’re coming with me. Don’t go to the nurse, simply leave your classroom with the hallway pass and head straight to the back door, the one by the band room. I’ll be there, I’ll be waiting. If something comes up and this isn’t possible, then expect to see me at the bakery your next shift. We need to talk and figure things out. Hang in there. And take care of the baby for me. Give them a kiss and all of my love. Missing you like hell, Brendon.” Your heart hurts just reading it. You take the note and carefully stick it behind the mirror hanging on your bathroom wall, then wash your hands and head down to dinner. As hard as the thought is to believe, you can’t wait to go to school tomorrow. You think you just might explode.

[oh-my-otome]

I recently went through my bank statements and saw how much I spent on Ikesen 😅 I feel extremely guilty spending so much. I've decided to not spend anymore and just use the coins in game (even though a new route is coming out😣) Do you think not getting the premium story parts is that big of a difference? I'm pretty much new to these games 😔

Uh oh, Precious! I think we’ve all been there! ahaha

You don’t have to never spend, if you don’t want to, but you can practice spending better!

I’ll list my own tips for otome budgeting– perhaps you or another corner-buddy may find something that you can apply, for your situation.

But first, you asked:Do you think not getting the premium story parts is that big of a difference?

Yes, there is a difference between the Normal story and the Premium story! 

For one, the Normal story is shorter. Certain dialogue, exposition, romantic and/or emotional progression will be omitted. 

It also comes with plainer attire, and cannot be re-read, unless you do the entire route all over again and choose the Normal story, instead of buying the Premium one.

However, you can always go back and buy the Premium story the next time you play a route! If you cannot afford it when you are playing it, don’t despair! Just save up for next time!

Now, on to how you can afford the things you want from otome games!

The important thing about money is not the money itself, but how you think about the money.

First, before you even consider whether to spend or to play for free, understand the type of player you are:

Do you play casually, as in once every few days? Maybe even skipping a week or two, or more?

Are you a daily player who logs in each day and collects free items?

Do extras like events, side stories, lotteries, grab bags and special gachas matter to you?

Are you a completionist, or are you only interested in certain characters?

Are you a creator who may need to have to a wide range of material to create content from?

Remember that all app games, no matter the genre, are designed on purpose to be addictive. There are counters and limited edition items for a purpose: to motivate you into spending more, and spending often.

No app game can exist without money, but you do not owe any game your money.

So before you hit the “Buy” button, ask yourself “why?” Why are you buying it, and how would you feel if you didn’t?

When you come across a side story, ask yourself if you really want it. If you’re just curious, perhaps you can talk to one of your game friends who already has it, and get their opinion on it, instead of reaching for your wallet first. 

Is the side story something that is only there for a limited time, or can you come back and buy it later? If it’s something that you think you may read more than once, then its value will be more long-lasting, in your eyes.

Do you really want that ranking prize because you genuinely like it, or do you only want it because it’s an exclusive item that others may admire? Is it something that you can see yourself putting on your avatar beyond the event? 

Questions like these can help you determine if you are spending your money wisely, for your own needs.

A completionist will need far more closet space and Stamina items than someone who only plays once in awhile. 

If you play very casually, you may regret spending $10 on some stories that you’re not likely to re-read, instead of buying something else that you wanted.

Someone who buys only the items related to their favorite handful of characters will save more money than the player who buys everything, no matter what character it is.

When it comes to the type of player you are, there is no correct type– there’s just you, and the way you feel comfortable playing.

Next, you will want to look at what you normally purchase, or what you would be purchasing, if you could spend the money.

If you’re more into attire, you’re going to need the closet space to go along with it. 

If you’re a speed-runner, tickets are going to be where you spend the bulk of your money, etc.

It also helps to understand what you are purchasing.

Look at this:

At first glance, this set includes 3,000 Charm.

In actuality, it includes more than that– between 4,500 and 8,250 Charm –depending on what you get as a grade (Excellent or Good), and if you use all of the Tea & Cake during x2 Lucky Time, or if you use it during x3 Lucky Time. 

And that’s not including the 3,000 Charm Makeup Palette that comes in the set. Plus, you get a guaranteed attire piece that you don’t have to rank for.

But if you do not want to gamble with your Stamina items, you may wish to buy a set that has a guaranteed Status amount, and no attire item, like one of these:

The above types of sets are fixed, meaning the prices and items do not tend to fluctuate. 

In other games, they change in some way or another:

To help budget, only spend the “extra” money that you can afford. “Extra” means something different to everyone.

For me, “extra” means: my rent and all of my other bills are paid, and I have food to last (or the money to buy it) until I am paid again, my transportation is secure (gas, or however you get around), and this money is not part of anything related to what was previously listed, nor is it part of what I will use in case of an emergency.

You’ll be able to figure out what “extra” means, for you, so give it some thought!

A tip for younger players, who don’t have their own money:

Keeping on top of your grades, and helping out in, and outside of, your home goes a long way, when asking for money for anything. 

If you are told “no,” an “I understand. Thank you for listening,” or the like will help foster a sense of responsibility and maturity between you and whomever it is, and next time may be a “yes.”

Of course, you’ll also want to make sure that you have permission to be making any purchases.

To help with your spending, younger or older, rather than having the money come directly out of a credit or debit account, use gift cards.

This way, you always know how much you have, and are less likely to overspend. 

Players who need to ask for money for games may have more luck asking for a gift card, than the money itself, because the money on the card can only be spent in a guaranteed, agreed upon place, at a set amount.

Depending on where you live, you can find iTunes and Google Play gift cards at big box stores, grocery stores, and convenience stores, in addition to online.

Also, there are usually sales on these types of gift cards, so you can save between $10-30, or more, depending on what the sale is. 

For example, iTunes gift cards occasionally have a Buy one, Get one (BOGO) x% off promo.

Heads up!:

If you have a Target store near you, there will be an iTunes BOGO 30% sale for Black Friday, November 23rd-25th!

For Apple players, remember: you will need an iTunes gift card, not an Apple Store gift card, as they are not one in the same!

When you use gift cards, it is easier to visualize your spending, giving you more control than if you spent indiscriminately. By using the same money to buy a card, you have already decided what your range of spending will be, for a given time.

Because you do not pay tax on gift cards, you are taking the same $20, let’s say, and putting it on something where you’ve made an agreement with yourself that this $20 is all you’ll be spending, at the time.

Speaking of tax, remember that when you make purchases in app games, regardless of how you make your purchase (gift card, credit or debit), you are also paying tax. 

And the amount of the tax increases, the larger your purchase is!

For instance, if you buy 100 coins for $0.99 USD, you are paying less tax than if you buy 3,500 coins for $33.99 USD. 

So if you need 3,600 coins for a set, but can’t afford 5,300 coins, which is the next highest amount, or you just want to have exactly 3,600 coins, you will be paying tax twice.

When it comes to events, remember that they are free content, just like the main story. 

If you are trying to stay within a budget, don’t get swept up by all of the bonuses, Stamina and Status sets that you could be buying, because you may wind up spending a lot of money to read stories which are free.

As for myself, I have several accounts for the games I play, and I spend money on them differently.

On my mains, I buy whatever I like that I can afford, and on my secondaries, I buy only closet and castle/garden space. 

Sometimes, if I see something that I really, really like, that I can’t do without, I’ll buy it for my secondary.

Since I also play four different games, I like to make sure that I have closet space open in each of them. I like to leave spaces open, so that I’m not tapping through my attire at the last minute, trying to decide what to delete, if I run out of space.

To cut down on buying Stamina items, I use my Energy every four hours for Cybird games, and every 5 hours for SLBP. That way, I can maximize my main and event status for free.

I prefer to buy for my special favorites, as well, so I always know how much I will need in order to buy what I want.

For example, a special side story in MidCin costs 500 coins, $4.99 USD. In SLBP, it is 6 pearls, $4.99, for POV specials.

I am never surprised by what I spend, since the price does not fluctuate much, so I can always plan ahead:

An After Episode will always cost 300 coins, an Ieyasu epilogue will almost always be 4 pearls, etc.

I find that it helps to think of the actual price, not it’s coin/pearl equivalent, since that is irrelevant outside of the game.

Just for fun, the next time you want to buy something in a game, try it for yourself:

Not: ‘do I have 300 coins for this epilogue?’But: ‘do I have $2.99 for this epilogue?’

So every time there is an event in SLBP, I know that I will need at least 8 pearls, since I always buy for Ieyasu and Mitsunari. In MidCin, I know that whenever there is an event, I will need the coins for Sid, and so on.

I usually buy a $100 gift card, and parcel it out amongst my four mains. I don’t always see something that I want to buy, so this $100 can last me for awhile.

I like to take advantage of sets which offer a little bit of everything, because they’re more economical. 

For example, I’m more likely to buy the set that has closets, tickets and Stamina items, than the one that only has more Charm.

However you choose to spend your money, I hope that you have fun playing!

[demigodofhoolemere]

I just got back from seeing Thor: Ragnarok and I desperately need to get out my thoughts. Warning: they're not positive and my opinions may be biased or could be perceived as harsh. This movie was one I was looking so forward to for so many reasons and personally, for me, it was disappointing, no matter how much good I keep trying to find in it.

The spoiler free version: there were things they did with the plot that I vehemently dislike and the characterizations were very, very off.

The spoiler filled version is a heaping list and you should not click to read more until you've watched the movie or if you don't want to read any negativity about it.

~~~~~~

I’ll start with the elephant in the room: Hela.

She was the main source of my hype for this movie, partly because I just like her anyway but mostly because I was ecstatic to see how they went about her relationship with Loki. The subject of Loki and his children is one I could go on about for hours and I was SO looking forward to seeing the reveal that he's a father and that their new adversary is his daughter, and I wanted to see how/if they explained his other children (like Fenrir, another thing I was excited about). The big thing I'd been looking forward to since the moment they confirmed Hela would be in this movie.

And then all of a sudden, Odin gave truth to the niggling fear that had been festering in the back of my mind: that Hela wouldn't be Loki’s daughter. But honestly, if she had just been unrelated to the family entirely, I could have lived with it because I would still be able to pretend that she's his daughter but that they just didn't discuss it. What they decided to do completely squandered my enjoyment of the movie -- they made her Odin’s daughter.

... What?!

Out of complete nowhere, Thor and Loki have an older sister that they never knew about, and there’s a contrived backstory about how Hela and Odin used to rule together but suddenly he cast her out for reasons that don't go beyond her just being too powerful and so this is why she's so angry and wants Asgard for herself. I remember I was upset about Ultron not being Hank Pym’s creation, but it turns out that that's nothing comparatively. (Also, why would she care about ruling Asgard? She's already got Helheim to run -- oh, wait, Helheim was never once brought up or even alluded to. Which is another problem in itself, because they don't portray her as the dutiful queen of the dead, they portray her as a destructively violent and furious mass murderer. Maybe she's more like that in comics and/or myths that I just don't know about, but in my knowledge of her character, she's not especially... well, like that.)

Trying to find the right words for how much that choice bothered me would leave me sitting here for the next fifty years, so I'll just stop there and move on to the next problem. (EDIT: honestly, as of a few months later, I'm mostly over this problem; the rest of the list is what really gets me.)

Humor and timing. While everyone else in the theater kept laughing their heads off, this was actually a big problem for me. The movie is supposed to be about the end of all things, but it never went a minute without injecting humor into a situation, including (perhaps especially) where it didn't belong, and some jokes were repeated way too often (and a couple were weirdly inappropriate and just uncomfortable, which I wouldn't bat an eye at in a Guardians movie but it doesn't fit at all here). In the end the gravity of the situation is never felt. Things got played for laughs that should not have been played for laughs. When there are serious or heartfelt moments (and I adored the ones that did come up), they don't last long because the humor is soon reintroduced. Far too many scenes were filled with jokes that ruined the mood, and it definitely had a bad influence on characterization. Personalities were completely altered for the sake of jokes.

Characterization. Oh my stars, characterization. I can't speak for the people I don't know very well, like Valkyrie or the Grandmaster, but other people... oh boy. (The more I think about this issue the more I realize it actually bothers me more than Hela’s new origins. I'd rather that be incorrect than the personalities of established characters.)

I’ll start with Thor himself because it was the most horrifying to me. To put it simply, I didn't feel like I was watching Thor at all. He had brief moments that were true to who he is (all to do with honor and bravery, and one blessed scene even had humility), but they were few and far between. For the most part, I couldn't take him seriously because he wasn't taking hardly anything seriously. The jokes that came from him were near constantly at the wrong time, and his priorities were super screwed up. A guy gets killed by being melted into goop, and Thor cares more about the fact that it smells bad than that some poor guy was just murdered in front of him. He also had an over-the-top adoration and protectiveness of his own hair. He literally seemed to care more about his hair being cut than he cared about losing his eye. Similarly he seems to talk far more about missing Mjolnir than he does the predicament of his home and his people.

And it was like all the growth he's gone through since his first movie was flushed down the toilet. Not only were his negative character traits from the first movie that he grew out of brought back, but they were even accentuated and turned into his core personality which gives a sense of devolution, like he hasn't learned anything. And he really wasn't nice, for some reason?? In any adaptation of him, he’s always so friendly and respectful and filled with hope, and that's what I love so much about him, but I didn't really see that in this movie. He wasn't a very good friend to the Hulk or to Bruce (constantly insulting both of them and then turning around with false compliments so that they’ll still do what he wants), but what shocked me was his attitude towards Loki. It's one thing to be distrustful, and he would be entirely justified in it, but it's another thing to electrocute him, throw away the switch, and leave him there to convulse for who knows how long until somebody found him (and openly mock him with a smile while he does it). If anyone else had done it, I wouldn't think it strange and I wouldn't still be thinking about it because nobody else would have any reason to put any measure of faith in him, but Thor is the one person who I can't see doing that. Thor really wasn't brotherly or optimistic at all in regards to Loki which is not in his nature (another weird instance is Thor trying to prove that Loki has never been trustworthy by telling a story from their childhood in which Loki stabbed him for his own amusement; Loki wasn't like that yet as a child, and if he'd done that then I think some red flags would have been raised a whole lot sooner), and in an interesting turn of events, Loki actually seemed like the one who was trying to make an effort (which is sweet but also kind of weird considering the alterations that his character went through as well).

Which brings me to Loki. He was probably about half-and-half (in writing, anyway, since Tom’s acting did a lot to salvage the final product). He was definitely allowed to have more serious moments where you see more of the deep feelings under the surface (enough of them that I can't actually count them all off the top of my head, so that's good, although again, it's often less about the actual writing and more about the emotion that Tom injects into his performance), and his humor was usually fairly in character, but then at other times it was so ridiculous in almost a cartoon villain sort of way (he literally puts on an Ember Island Players-style production about himself, which is perhaps fitting since watching this movie felt like I was watching an Ember Island Players version of these characters). He kept trying to sell Thor out at nearly every opportunity, which wouldn't be so weird if it had only happened maybe once and if he had a real reason, but he kept doing it even when it would be in his best interest to not do that, and for reasons that felt very contrived and made no sense for his character (and then in other scenes he would very clearly show how much he does love his brother, which I appreciate but oh my goodness the inconsistency). He kept acting a bit like a leech, immediately taking hold of something he considered advantageous, which would be perfectly in character if it were not for the fact that the things he kept trying to take advantage of were things that, in any other movie, would be of such painfully little consequence to him. (I did like, at least, that he had Thor in mind when he was coming up with his scheme to use the Grandmaster to get himself to the top of the food chain, so at least in that scene -- since his personality seemed to vary from scene to scene -- it wasn't only self interest and he was planning on having Thor be side by side with him as his brother again).

Amazingly, dear sweet Bruce went pretty untouched by the characterization issue (he still got used for laughs, and so did his anxiety which I didn't appreciate, but far and away he was the most intact - if I have any complaints I'd say he lost a bit of his depth in favor of making him a bit of a joke; they amped up the timidity and awkwardness to the point where I'm not sure that this is the same Bruce that told Wanda he could choke the life out of her and never change a shade... but at least I still felt like I was watching Bruce at all) and I treasured every moment he was on screen because he still got to be his adorable self (and I totally related to his close encounter with a panic attack), but the Hulk was a little strange (and far too excited about having spent the last 2 years killing people, especially when he's always been so afraid of becoming the monster people think he is). Aside from providing muscle when necessary, he was basically just there for comic relief, and in a movie where almost everything is already being played comically, it just becomes too much. 

Pointless deaths. I have so many questions here. You’d think that killing people off would help to feel the dire stakes, but they all die so quickly and pointlessly that it doesn't.

Isn't Odin supposed to, y’know, fight in Ragnarök? Die in battle? Never mind, he just randomly dies of old age because... actually, why did that happen?? It helps Thor with his lightning powers somehow, but in the plot as a whole there really isn't much purpose. As he dies he provides his sons with information that could just as easily be given if he were to live, and while there's a nice several moments of Thor and Loki being brothers and mourning their father together (and I really do appreciate seeing Loki still caring about Odin, and it was really touching that Odin regarded them both equally as his sons and that he told Loki that Frigga would be proud of him), it really doesn't seem to propel them on a journey. It just kind of happens and they move on from there.

I'm really, really unhappy about the Warriors Three. That was so unnecessary and so sudden. Volstagg and Fandral are killed in seconds before they can even defend themselves. Hogun is at least given a fighting chance, only to end up with an even more gruesome death. Not only is it a sad waste of good characters, but Thor hadn't even seen them in 4 years and now he’ll never see them again (not that he ever seems to mourn his friends or even learn that they've been killed, because they're never brought up by a single person). I'm just gonna pretend that not seeing Sif means she made it out alive, because I don't want to consider the possibility that she died off-screen (or at all).

Skurge didn't need to die either, but at least he had his own nice little character arc, and I really appreciate that they tried to emulate his iconic and powerful last stand from the comics (though there's far less gravity; in this movie no one really knew or cared about him, no one noticed his change of heart and sacrifice). He was actually one of the few things I really enjoyed and whose characterization I had no issue with. I really liked the way he was portrayed, because it definitely reminded me of his history with Amora the Enchantress, how he wasn't hurting people for any cause or just for the sake of it but because he was in love with Amora and would do anything for her (not that he was in love with Hela, but the emotions he displayed towards hurting people were familiar). But speaking of Amora, there's sadly probably no chance that she’ll show up now, now that Skurge is gone. Although there is one other, much bigger problem...

LITERALLY THE WHOLE OF ASGARD?! Why?! Sure, whatever, Asgard is where their people are and that's a sweet sentiment and I'm glad there was a successful evacuation, but that doesn't mean it's okay if their entire realm is destroyed! And it didn't seem like there were all that many people on the getaway ship, so how many people died? Does Yggdrasil lose a limb? How empty does Heimdall feel with an entire realm, his home, missing from his sight? How will the Asgardians adapt to life on Midgard? Why do Thor and Loki seem remarkably unmoved by their home being completely obliterated? (Also, while this is finally the kind of drama befitting the end of the world, even this scene was ruined by misplaced humor. They literally tried to soften the blow and make light of the destruction of Asgard. What the heck.)

other weird things:

- Surtr was only used as a plot device. Surtr.

- why in the world would Thor and Jane break up?! I know the studios had problems with Natalie Portman but the least they could have done was not write the character off so unceremoniously. There’s nothing that can be said to make me believe that Thor and Jane would break up.

- Loki apparently sent Odin to a home for the elderly and then Odin didn't want to come back to Asgard???

- I have no idea if the giant dragon-like creature at the beginning of the movie was meant to be Jörmungandr but I hope not because that would be very awkward if Thor unknowingly killed his own nephew

- Fenrir didn't seem to be Loki’s kid either, which I don't blame them for not bringing up, but I do think it's a little weird that he's been featured on Loki’s armor before and now there's no recognition of their relationship (and also the fact that such care was put into involving mythology that his kids were depicted on his armor makes me feel even weirder about the fact that they could just change who Hela is)

- also I’d love to see how they explain Hela and Fenrir still sharing Loki’s color scheme and physical features when they're not supposed to have anything to do with him

- ‘I like women, sometimes I think I like them too much’ what the heck

- ^ on that note, the ‘it’s about time’ line made me cringe so hard because the Valkyries are not from 2017 Midgard, this hasn't been an Asgardian problem and saying ‘it’s about time’ doesn’t make sense in that context, especially when the Valkyries have been around since long before Thor was ever born

- I totally get why Loki would make a statue of himself but I fail to understand why there was no statue of Frigga as well.

- Loki revealed a weird amount of personal information to completely random people. An entire play about his backstory and fake death, both of which I doubt he'd care to publicize as those are incredibly close to him (and I'm not sure the citizens actually knew of his bloodline, so he probably outed himself), and on Sakaar he tells total strangers the story of how he let go and floated into space at the end of the first movie, but with smiles and laughter as if it's a fun story with no deeper meaning to him. I read that as more or less being a suicide attempt, I can't see why he'd share that.

- character inconsistencies within a single scene; when Thor and Loki are in the elevator, they have a very moving moment where you can see that Loki truly cares for his brother and gets hit with the realization that Thor truly cared about him as well (I’m more than sure that Thor still does, but he was speaking in past tense) and Loki gets emotional, albeit in his quiet way that he can't put words to. Then in the next scene he’s suddenly willing to sell Thor out for his own cunning gain, which frankly I’m not sure he would have done anyway (under their circumstances at least), but especially not after a scene like that. (To a lesser extent there are things like when Thor is fighting the Hulk, sometimes Loki looks really truly worried for him but seconds later when he gets beaten to a pulp he's joyfully shouting, “YES! NOW YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS!”, even though the fact that Loki knows how much pain Thor must be in should make him feel worse for him - however this one could probably be explained away by saying Loki’s just terrible at empathy) 

- Bruce landing on the bridge got the most laughs of all out of the theater but I was very confused by that, since turning into the Hulk is about getting his heart rate up too high, and maybe it's just me but I feel like falling from a great height with the impending crash into a messy battlefield on a thin bridge would get someone’s heart rate skyrocketing.

- I had to see the Hulk’s butt with my own two eyes

- You would think that there would be a big emotional moment when Thor realizes that Loki is actually alive. There isn't. You have Thor realizing that he's been pretending to be Odin and confronting him, but it's played as more ‘of course it was you, what did you screw up this time’ and you don't see Thor feel anything about Loki other than a frustration that felt far too casual for someone who just learned that their brother who died 4 years ago is alive. And of course, he's well within his rights to be frustrated and angry, but there should have been weight and emotion to the realization and confrontation and there isn't any.

- for a movie that tries to be about Asgard and the deep meaning of it, they sure spend a lot of time (read: almost the entire movie) on a completely different planet where they barely talk about Asgard at all

- I know everyone seem to love the dark backstory they gave to Asgard and I get that it was meant to be a lesson about colonialism, and I know it's important to Taika, who I respect, but it really rubs me the wrong way and I don't think this was the right movie to send that message in. Suddenly the Asgardians used to be cruel conquerors, just because we say so now. There was never any indication of that before, because that story did not exist before, and it bugs me that you could suddenly just rewrite their history on a whim. That was not Asgard.

positives:

- Those blessed but few moments where Thor and Loki got to be in character at the same time and had nice interactions with each other. It was really, really nice to see them standing together at the end of the movie, just as brothers. I was especially fond of the times when Loki is the one extending a hand, such as when he truly does show up in person to be with Thor, or in the elevator when he's awkwardly mentioning how there's no need for them to ever see each other again and could not be more obviously trying to nudge Thor for an out so that they don't actually have to do that. As far as humor goes, I did think the ‘Get Help’ routine was hilarious, and I just about died at, “I have been FALLING, for THIRTY MINUTES!”

- Stephen Strange gracing the screen with his presence for maybe 3 minutes

- Heimdall lived! And thank goodness, he was completely in character. He got to be the honorable hero who hid the refugees and protected them, which was one of the very few things in the movie that was never played for laughs. You can take him seriously and you can take his parts of the plot seriously.

- I did think the character of the Valkyrie was quite interesting. I liked seeing her flashbacks and her decision to come home to help.

- I’d be lying if I said I didn't like Korg. He’s purely a comedic character and he definitely ruined some potentially good moments because of it, but forgetting that, I did still find him endearing.

- Even though this movie has a problem with choosing flash over substance, I’d also be lying if I said that Thor mowing people down with his lightning powers didn't look pretty cool.

- There’s a giant bust of Beta Ray Bill’s head on the side of the tower on Sakaar and I was very happy to see him.

- I think Loki was probably a little too scared of the Hulk, but it was interesting nevertheless to see his reaction to the memory of getting hurt like that.

- Speaking of Loki reacting to the memory of pain, oh my word, the end credits scene that sets up Infinity War. The Chitauri would definitely dredge up some things he doesn't want to remember. And since we see in the Infinity War trailer that Thor is drifting around in space but there's no sign of anyone else, I don't know about the other Asgardians but I can only assume that Loki will get taken aboard the Chitauri ship to be brought to Thanos, either to be punished or controlled again or both. I don't want to see him in that situation but I'm fascinated from a character growth standpoint. (Also considering we see him look at the Tesseract before Asgard’s destruction and the fact that he’s holding it in the Infinity War trailer, I assume he swiped it, which would definitely make Thanos want to find him).

~~~~~

Anyway. I think they kind of tried to be the Thor version of a Guardians movie (heck, even Guardians certainly knows when to drop the fun and raise the tension, and they do it fantastically), but to me it ended up feeling like OOC fanfiction. The acting is still fantastic but there's only so far you can carry a scene when the writing isn't helping anybody’s characters, so sometimes it feels sort of like you're watching the shell of these characters but not the meat inside. What’s sad is that there really are some good things in this movie, but not enough to save it, and it gives you a sense of the great potential the rest of the movie had to be something amazing but they just didn't take the opportunity. I want so badly to love it the way I expected to, and there are things from it that I truly did like, but overall I’m just left feeling sort of betrayed.