#haven't drawn her in three (3!) years I missed her so much

[fried-oignon]

Her Mo Mo (McFink)-ness

[angelst4re]

Hi angel 💕 Could you write a counterfeit jamie smut where the reader used to be friends with benefits with him and he comes back to her town on tour and she ends up in his hotel room if you know what I mean 🤭I love you’re writing <3

hi lovely!! thank you so much!! im sooo sorry for making you wait so long THIS REQUEST IS LITERALLY FROM FEBRUARY??? i hope it's worth the wait :)

Addiction- Counterfeit!Jamie x Reader

warnings: NSFW!!! this contains smut so if that makes you feel uncomfortable then please don't read!! <3

notes: it's been a while... for the last month i've been so busy and when i haven't been busy i've been thinking about noah sebastian and/or cillian murphy (jamie i am sorry i'm in a hoe phase rn!!) but i also have a henry creel drabble to post tomorrow as well so keep an eye out for that :) ALSO I WANNA SAY A BIG THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME!!!! (p.s. this isn't proof read and i wrote this over the span of three weeks so i apologise for any mistakes!!)

When you received the message from Jamie telling you he’s playing a show in your city, you couldn’t contain your excitement. You were out for lunch with two of your friends, who were questioning the wide grin on your face. 

“Oh, I just know she’s texting Matt again,” one of your friends smirked, eyeing you up, “are you ever going to meet up with him? You’ve been talking for almost 3 months?!”

“Oh, no, it’s Jamie. He’s playing here with his band next month, he wants me to come and see them. He’s sent two tickets, I could ask for an extra one if you wanted to come with me-”

“That’s perfect! You can ask Matt to come with you!” Your other friend suggested, although it came off as more of a demand. 

“But what if he asks about how I know Jamie? I couldn’t really explain that on a first date.” 

“Well, just tell him he’s a friend, maybe leave out the ‘with benefits’ part.”

“We stopped that a while ago, actually. I haven’t seen him for almost a year, we’re kinda just friends now.” 

“Then that’s your story sorted then,” your friend grinned, picking your phone up from the table and placing it in your hand, “now tell Matt he’s got a concert to go to.” 

You were surprised when Matt texted back, telling you he’s never heard of counterfeit before, but he’ll happily listen to them and come with you. You felt a little bad for lying to him, telling him you had no one else to come with you as your friends were working that weekend. 

On the evening of the show, Matt came to pick you up. You would’ve usually dressed quite casual for a concert, specifically one of Jamie’s, but this was also a date. You stepped out of your house wearing a black dress, comfortable shoes and a cute handbag to match the outfit. 

“You look amazing,” Matt said, unable to wipe the smile from his face, “let’s get going!” 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“That guy right there,” Matt shouted through the noise, pointing at Jamie, “is your friend?” His mouth was open in disbelief as you nodded your head. He had already had four beers, and you had only been here just over an hour. 

“Yeah, I met him at one of the restaurants I used to work at. It’s a funny story actually, some crazy fangirls were waiting outside for him to leave so I kinda helped him ‘escape’ through the back…” You trailed off as you noticed he wasn’t paying attention to anything you were saying, his attention was elsewhere. 

“Cool, I’m gonna get another drink, do you want one?” 

You shook your head and watched as he disappeared off into the crowd. 

Your eyes were drawn to Jamie, reminiscing on the times you had spent together. The times your bodies were intertwined beneath the covers and the times you spent laughing together in the car. You missed him, it was truly like it was a ‘right person, wring time’ kind of situation. 

Time passed and passed and you realised Matt hadn’t come back yet. Surely the line wasn’t that long? You just assumed he had gone to the bathroom, especially after drinking that much. But another 15 minutes passed and he still hadn’t returned, so you went to search for him. You assumed he wouldn’t have wandered far from the bar, so you were heading in that direction. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were pushed up against the hotel door, slamming it shut as his lips met yours. One of your hands found his hair whilst the other was grasping at his shirt, as if you were hanging on to him for your life. The familiar smell of his aftershave, mixed with cigarettes gave you a feeling of nostalgia, and it was as if you were experiencing deja vu. 

His hands were on your thighs, pushing your dress up higher and higher, until his cold hands met your bare hips. 

“Jamie,” you gasped, pulling back for air. As if he couldn’t take his mouth off you, his lips were now on your neck, kissing and nibbling the spot he knew would make your knees buckle. 

The last thing you expected tonight was to leave the show with the singer. With Jamie. But after you went to look for Matt, you caught him with his tongue down another girl's throat. A part of you felt sick, betrayed, but another part of you felt relieved. However, you would never admit that’s how you felt, especially not to your friends. 

Jamie had given you a backstage pass, and cleared it with security before the show. You knew how the night was going to end as soon as you received the text from him. 

“Why does this always happen,” Jamie asked rhetorically, against the skin of your shoulder as he continued to pepper kisses, “always end up coming back to you.” 

You smile at his words, it was true. The two of you just couldn’t seem to keep your hands off each other when you were together. 

Before you could process what had happened, you were pushed against the table, and Jamie took your thighs, lifting you to sit on the edge of it as he got down to his knees. 

His kisses began at your ankle, and he looked up at you as they got closer and closer. Your calves, your knees and eventually your upper thigh. 

“I’ve missed you.” He confessed as he held your thighs open, one finger pushing your underwear to the side. 

He dragged a finger through your slick folds, earning a sigh from you as he grazed your clit. You looked down to see a smirk plastered on his face. His eyes briefly met yours before he placed a kiss over your clit, the tip of his tongue nudging it as you dug your nails into the underneath of the wooden table you were sitting on. Jamie quickly noticed this, and the hand that was holding your legs open for him guided your hands back to his hair. 

“Shit.” You gasped as you felt a finger gently press into your entrance, his lips now wrapped around your clit, sucking and nipping at it. “M-more…” You managed to whisper. 

“That’s not how we ask for something, is it, darling?” Jamie teased, a devilish glint in his eyes as two of his fingers pressed into you, agonisingly slow. 

“Please,” you whimpered, “I need… I want more, please, Jamie.” 

Jamie chuckled, his thumb now replacing his mouth on your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. He stood back up, towering over you before leaning down to kiss you, giving you a taste of yourself as he did so. 

“I’ve missed hearing you beg,” he whispered, “come on, sweetheart, let go for me. I know you're close.” 

He was right. You swore he knew your body better than you did. 

You could feel the knot in your belly tightening, getting ready to snap at any moment. 

“You’re making such a mess, y’know that? My messy girl, can feel you dripping down my hand,” you could tell what he was doing, he was trying to push you to the edge, he knew what effect his words had on you, and he was taking advantage of that, “that’s it, angel. You can do it, cum for me.” 

And that did it. 

Your head was thrown back, your thighs trying to close around him as he continued to work you through your orgasm. The moans falling from your lips were muffled by his as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

His fingers slipped out of you and he reached for your thighs, his slick coated fingers leaving your skin sticky as he pressed his body against yours, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you towards the bed. 

As your back hit the mattress, he began to undress. You took off your ruined underwear before you reached for your dress, to slip it off, but he called out to stop you. 

“Hey, leave it on. It looks so fucking sexy.” He growled, unbuckling his belt to let his trousers fall to the ground. 

He kneeled on the bed and shuffled his way between your legs, holding them open for him as he leaned down to kiss you once again. 

“Jamie, please.” You whined, lifting your hips to try and get him to do something. 

“Fuck, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hold back, darling. It’s been a while since I’ve…” He doesn’t finish his sentence as you reach your hand between your bodies, palming his hard cock through his boxers. 

He grabs your wrists, his fingers digging into the skin sure to leave bruises for you to look back on in the days to come. 

“I didn’t tell you that you could touch, now, did I?” His eyes had darkened with need and lust, and the way his face twisted into a devilish smile made a whimper slip from your lips. “So desperate for me, aren’t you baby. I knew all those years ago I had ruined you for any other man, this just proves it, hm?” 

With one hand pinning your arms above your head, the other one comes down to drag his thumb over your bottom lip, before you welcome him into your mouth, gently sucking on the tip of his thumb. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “keep your hands here, okay? I know you will, you’re my good girl, right?” 

You nod your head and manage to say a muffled ‘yes’ as his thumb presses down on your tongue as he uses his now spare hand to push his boxers down, letting his cock free from its restraints. 

He wastes no time, swiping his fingers over your slick, spreading it over his dick before pumping himself a couple times. His breathing is heavy as he lines himself up with you, your hips squirming as you wait for him to finally push in, but he takes his time teasing you beforehand. When the tip finally slips into you, you both let out a moan and his head falls forwards, buried where your neck meets your shoulder. 

It’s clear that neither of you have had any action lately, as you both need to take a moment before Jamie begins to move. You dig your nails into the pillow as he begins to slowly move his hips. 

His hand that was once over your mouth trails down and rests on your neck, applying a little pressure as your eyes fall shut. You feel how his cock slides into you, nudging spots inside you that made you shiver. He would pull back out until only the tip was left inside, before fucking back into you, getting progressively rougher. 

“You look so pretty like this, baby.” He said before leaning down to capture your lips with his. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping your hands planted above your head as you melted into the kiss. You took advantage of the use of your legs, if you couldn’t touch him with your hands. 

One of Jamie’s hands slid between your bodies to find your clit again, using his thumb to try and bring you the edge, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer. In the past, you and Jamie went maybe 2 or 3 rounds sometimes in one night. However, it was different tonight. You hadn't seen each other in a long time, let alone had sex. 

His pace began to quicken, his thrusts getting rougher and rougher. He buried his face in your neck once more and you couldn’t help but tangle your fingers into his hair, gently tugging on the blonde locks. 

“Shit,” he gasped, masked by a dark chuckle as he kissed your neck. 

“J-Jamie…” Your mind was too clouded by everything to even think about forming a proper sentence, but Jamie knew you and your body better than you knew yourself, and vice versa. 

You knew he was getting close by the way his cock twitched inside you. Your grasp on his hair tightened as you felt your high getting closer and closer. 

“Inside.” Was the final word you managed to mutter into his ear before you came undone, your legs locking around him, making sure he wouldn’t pull out before you came down from your high. 

As you were beginning to catch your breath, your muscles relaxing as you lay there blissed out, felt him twitch in you once more, cumming inside you with a moan, followed by your name. You rocked your hips as he stilled inside of you, milking his cock of every last drop. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, follow by a chuckle as he smiled lazily down at you, “you don’t understand how much I’ve missed you.”

[shinakazami1]

Give me a 12, 13 and 22 for rhys, soldier 🫵

FELLOW RHYS ENJOYER (krotiation I LOVE YOUR ART TOO SM GAAAAH THIS FANDOM HAS SUCH GREAT ARTISTS)

12. What's the funniest or craziest AU idea you've ever come up with?

I have in total, three AUs I have to finally write anything for fhasfsa (I do plan on posting Tales AU first chapter this week tho!!). 1) RHYS AI AU is something you saw me post snippets of - in general, it's an alternative version of Borderlands 2, where Jack kills Lilith and Roland very quickly and survives. Due to mourning for Nisha, Wilhelm and Angel, he one day writes code for a companion based on an imaginary friend he had but also, gives him some trait of each one of those he misses. While Rhys was going to slowly become the silly personality we know and love, this was my typical 'give the character therapy when they don't want it, and end up with them hurting someone else and trying to change'. 2) JUST WING IT AU is my Tales AU that starts with changes in ep 5, with how Rhys handles the news about Jack wanting to get that exoskeleton in him and focusing on exploring Jack's loneliness and adding him as the third character, making sort of second season for the game. The additional driving point would be that Loader Bot would be able to grab Gortys and run off with her, so the search for Vault would become longer Yet the AU I really hope to start exploring in the future, is this one: 3) Loss of what once happened but never before AU. It's a Borderlands 3 Rhack au that would focus on Rhys finding out he is a siren with huge time-travelling powers and the costs that come with it. He would turn back in time, when Jack was still known as John during the nights, and watch some of the consequences happen in the present during the day. He doesn't know though just how strong the butterfly effect will be...

13. What's a character or ship you haven't written/drawn yet but would like to someday?

Characters: Timothy, Angel, Nisha, Zer0, Katagawa, Axton, Moxxi, Lilith, Roland

Ships: Rhysothy, Rhack, JackxNisha, MoxxixTimothy, Rhysagawa, Axton x Turret (cus she is my wife I luv her)

(The list prob isn't finished cus I still have to finish playing the second game and play the third one oifhaiof)

22. Give us headcanons for Rhys

He actually likes fashion and likes casual official style in general.

He has a sweet tooth but pretends to like spicy food in college.

He actually had a heterochromia before the echo eye and decided to keep it.

He admired Jack a bit but he laughed at psycho fans, as he has some critical thinking.

Even a few years after getting Atlas running again, he still tries to make some guns himself, even if he doesn't have as much time.

He was the one dumped by his ex girlfriend even if he didn't like their dynamic because he was actually scared nobody else would be into him.

He spends a lot of time in the morning preparing his hair. It's quite wavy which gets visible in wetter climates but fortunately for him, he lives mostly in dry ones.

He met Katagawa and at first, couldn't believe he had a fan even if he had some boosted ego but felt something off about him. He turned off an invitation to Zanara because he still thinks about his talk with Vaughn about being good at faking cool. That's why he is even more awkward in future games, since while chasing the younger years, he wants to show he matured, hoping that maybe that will bring Sasha back. That's also why he got the moustache - to show he is becoming more serious. Which fails miserably.

He seemed the most confident in his new Atlas CEO stage because he had to look like it. There was nobody else to help him at the time, so he tried his best to do what he had done - acted the plan out.

He still imagines his plans the same way he did in Tales - with fantasies.

[thebirdarts]

My 2023 Year in Art

Because of my sporadic drawing, I just picked 12 pieces of mine, spread out across this year, that i felt had an impact or shows an one on my overall artistic style, from the first time I've experimented with something, and when i solidified it.

i nerd out over my own drawing under the cut!

In chronological order, starting with my portrait of my first WOTR commander, Alaun.

Original Post!

Not only is this is representation of me getting into WOTR, its one of the first times i did smoother and softer shading, something i haven't really done since. Additional, i can easily see the line between the metals i rendered here and Cecio & Celia's more stylized metallic elements. I miss Alaun, he was ahead of his time as a good kc of mine. its a fairly big full piece, and one I'm still proud and fond of today!

Original Post!

Estinian! god i miss ffxiv... Here is the root of my bright idea to use pencil brushes for colored shading, to get a textured gradient, and i used it in the metallic golds. its also my biggest art post on this blog! it is a big & detailed piece, and seemed daunting at the time, but i just put in the time, and was rewarded for trying to make sense of the armor [i used my own dragoon as a model for how thing actually interacted & what was what] Im still stupidly proud of it. it was my second piece of FFXIV fanart, and the beginning of many more!

MURA! original post

Given this is about drawings that have impacted me, i think this one is an easy contender for the one that's done so the most. Drawing Mura reminded me how much i loved fashion & clothing, and drawing it! I've always has a tremendous amount of fun with her drawings, and it all started here!! Mura also was the first time i repeatedly used a colour pallet for a character, with her pinks and purples now ingrained into my mind!

Original Post

Out of all my drawings, Estinian and Mura are tied for how much ive drawn them, which Estinian has an advantage due to my large bank of FFXIV screenshots & my redraws thereof. This was great fun, not only for understanding the armor better, but having fun experimenting in colour pallets! something i can see has carried on into my non-literaly coloured Celia & Cecio drawings!

Mura<33 original post [has link to its original art]

My first head only drawing in a long time, and somewhere where i experimented with coloring, as well as the introduction of Muras netted and braided hairstyle! in fact, you can see the visible brush strokes as what would eventually be the stylized shading used in my more recent portraits! The shattered stained glass. looks cool as hell. and was my first time majorly experimenting with layer options, something that would become very common for me.

Mura again<3 original post

Look narrowing it down to three was hard, i drew her so much, she really re-inspired me to draw. Lighting<33 you can really see here the style i would use on Cecio, just using a pencil brush rather than a roller one. its a piece Im very proud of, and one day i will light everything as consistently as this

Miss Star-Sailer<33 original

Expanding the working with a limited color pallet from Mura, and once again rendering metals, this piece of my wol has a special place in my heart. just... her<33 She<33 her muted and dark colour pallet, her expression... i love this one<33

GEORGIE!!! original

my baby boy<33 Im finally drawing curls... and the brightly coloured iris & tiny white pupil may have become a thing of mine.

Celia<33 original

the limited colour pallet, the non literal colours, the sketch peeking through, the shading on both clothing and skin, the hair? this is like the payoff to all theses previous drawings. i used a different pencil brush, and goodbye 6b and hellooo procto pencil!!!!

Cecio<3 original

If the previous drawing was the payoff, this is one of the stages of refinement, taking the new stylized skin shading and applying it to a portrait where the face is the focus, and damn!! Cecio<3

original

A compositional outlier, this piece earned its place for me revising what has to be one of the most drawn compositions of mine - the eye. In many ways its the closing loop of a full circle, the brushstrokes exactly how i would shade with my pencil on paper, the lines and movements coming naturally to me, in an entirely different medium. the main difference is colour, while my pencil drawings were firmly grayscale and i resisted all attempts to get me to use colour, this is practically a sunset, using my knowledge of not just colour but layer filters to create bright and overly saturated variations. full circle, just add colour.

Original

And the final piece! a portrait of Cecio, showing off all i have developed, from the metallics, to the stylized shading, colour pallets, the use of filters for alternate versions, the hair, the face, the new brush!!! its not my last drawing of 2023, but its a fitting end.

- end note.

if you will permit me to get sappy, 2023 has been hell of a year, but damn if it hasn't been pointing upwards. in 2023 i came to understand i was disabled, and my whole life changed course. My art became not just a hobby or skill of mine, but will be my main source of income once i graduate. my existing friendships have strengthened, and so have my online ones, ive met so many new and awesome people. seeing everyone's tags, comments and reactions to my art has been amazing, and thank you all for that. i have seen so many amazing artists and writers who inspired me to better myself, and also to focus on what makes me unique.

2023 has been a hell of a year, but thanks in no small part to some of the most amazing people i've had the privilege of knowing, it been a damn good one.

its been tough, coming to realize your physically disabled and having to rewrite your life plan was hard. its been overall up, but there have been some spikes down. im aware, that every year i say i cant get happier, and then i do, i break though another barrier, reach another high.

im not saying that this year, because i know next year will be better, and the year after that, as i have the opportunity to steer my own life, it will improve in ways i cant even think of now.

Thank you, all.

[fortunesfavours]

time travel in ten - sequential narrative collage piece done for my class, Artifact.

ramblings below the cut for those interested in the process/life update for friends who have noticed i've been gone

right lmao. i had two weeks to do this project and had a completely different idea that i just could not get myself to be excited about. emailed my prof in desperation, but it being like 10 pm meant that she was not about to respond. within 30 minutes, as it goes, i got struck with divine inspiration by whatever force of nature governs procrastination-induced genius, and i promptly spent the next 12 waking hours non-stop working on this.

my class, artifact, is a requirement for the foundation year at the college i attend. it centers around time-based media, ranging from the sequential illustration here to video later in the semester, and a bunch of other projects designed to get us thinking in 4d. artifact is the theme of the class - my peers are doing the same projects under a variety of different themes (tragically, haunting filled up too quickly and i missed out on enrollment in that one).

our first project was designing an artifact and doing a write-up of the story behind it. the girl to my left made beaded spiders members of a fictional cult carried. the guy across from me made an amulet of a long-dead god. you get the vibes. mine, which I still need to take professional photos of, is a pocketwatch that lets you time travel. cause, yknow. i'm me. it was gonna be about time travel.

i had originally intended to do a bunch of drawings of the watch's owner, building out her backstory and the world she lives in, and explaining why the watch exists,,,, then i couldn't bring myself to pick up the stylus. I just can't seem to find the energy for my usual digital art (sorry friends i miss yall i'm still here i swear).

here's the bit about my life so feel free to stop reading if you just care about the art 👍

I haven't drawn fanart or my ocs in months now, since last semester, and I miss it a whole bunch but right now that creative energy just. is not happening. i don't plan on abandoning it forever by any means, but p much everything i have is going towards school right now. sad as that is, i'm having so much fun, and i'm so proud of the technical improvements i've made. I've got so many things i want to create, mostly for my ocs. i still love crit role, but i've fallen of campaign three. i don't have the time, and the story hasn't been engaging me for a bit.

i've been really into dr who lately, and am eagerly waiting for the spare time to sit and watch all of candela obscura. i'm in a new dnd game. i've got friends! real life friends! irl friends who called me the wizard friend within a few hours of knowing me before i even opened my mouth about dnd lmao. i've discovered a new love of collage, and i've just declared my major in something unique to my school, a program called Studio for Interrelated Media. i'll be learning about illustration still through the extra electives i'll have room for, but i also get to explore printmaking in more depth, as well as event planning, installation, curation, and theatre work as well.

i miss being on here a whole bunch and want to be more active when i get more time. don't plan on abandoning this blog by any means. boston has been kind to me, and though i have had some Real Low Points, i've also been living the life i've hoped for since i was a kid. i'm good, really really good.

to my friends, ily, i miss you, and i hope you're well. can't wait to catch up on all yalls art and fic. sending all my love. <3

[shmowder]

🤯🖤🤯🖤 Ok, that settles it - I think I really will try to replay P2. Now it's all on my mind. Hello Darkness by Theodor Bastard my old friend 🫶 I feel kind of bad that I can't give much in the way of an intellectual reply, but please never worry about retelling anything I may already know (or getting too niche)! It's been two years since I played, and I'm realizing that I haven't retained many of the details, but rest assured I do enjoy reading your thoughts, and the passion you have for the game is contagious (I didn't realize I was making a plague related pun until it had already been typed...)!!

I totally get the "antagonist is your own ego" thing with Stardew. It can be frustrating trying to pace yourself when there's just so much to do, and knowing that it's impossible to do it all in one day. As far as villagers go - why am I suddenly picturing Bad Grief as, like, Redd from Animal Crossing, selling fake paintings? It must be the hair 😂 Yulia can help me plan out my farm because even when I was thriving in year 3, visually it was a bit of a mess, and I'm sure not laid out optimally.

Oooh how cool is that picture of the Executors bowing down before Aglaya... (as an aside, I took the quiz you linked to and Executor was my result lmao). And <333 I can't believe we have the same favorite characters. I'd be happy to read anything you write about them.

Something clicked when you used the word "gentle" when describing how Yulia is with Artemy. You're so right. I think part of the reason I'm drawn to her and Victor is they both seem to have a gentleness to them, or if not that then a stillness, quietness, introspection. And sadness. Even Aglaya for all her strict imposing presence has a sadness to her.

I did a little more poking around the P1 part of the Wiki - Sticky's animal being a kitten is the cutest thing in the WORLD 🥹

And thank you! Now I'm intrigued by this, shall we say, unorthodox emoji choice - but I understand if you don't want to say it 😆

I'm sorry you haven't been feeling well :( I hope things get better for you, and that you can find some relief through this blog ^^ I've been alright; I saw that you have a birthday coming up and mine was about a week ago! Gemini twins~

🐿️ anon

IT WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY LAST WEEK!! WE ARE TWINS HORRAY <33333 HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY I MADE THIS FOR YOU

Don't mind the cupcake. They both assumed the other person's gonna bring the cake and had to improvise really quickly

Mine is still a few days away, hehe 6/9 hehehe. It's gonna be fun. It's why I originally started the "what the pathologic characters bring for your birthday" drabble series but my god it was the hardest writing exercise ever??? I was a shriveled up husk of a human afterwards and had to throw in the towel. I don't think I'll ever do the termites or humbles rip.

You did mention people that you liked my Hysteria fics and that made me very happy <3 It encouraged me to continue and write the last and third part, even compiled the drabbles and posted them on AO3 so they don't end up swallowed up and lost by tumblr's gutters.

I don't think of my replies or characters analysis as intellectual tbh, I'm just throwing up words and saying what's on mind. So I never expect anything high-brow or even well formmated in return. You're doing wonderful and your replies have been a real delight to recieve and read, I promise.

And yes, the gentleness! The three of them are aimlessly drifting in an ocean of melancholy. You get it! They seem cold and detached, but deep down, they're incredibly sensitive. They're calculated yet so full of emotions. They understand people, and they dig past the surface in other's until they fully comprehend their structure, evualting their core and understanding what gives them meaning. They're thoughtful in their own way that most people miss.

Take Victor, for example. He tends to be polite even while giving orders, using please and thank you even in the most miniscule of requests. The way he doesn't take fault to any of Artemy's mean comments or insults about him and the Kains, he doesn't take your hostility to heart and keeps talking and cooperating with you.

He's patient with Artemy, much like Yulia is gentle with you. He explains the structures and their purpose, he explains to you how time flows and works, he shares his plans for the future at the end of the game, condensing the complex visions into simple terms for you to understand, without being condcending and without being asked to.

Like when your teacher explains to a child why can birds fly, how planes work and why flight is such an achievement for humanity. He has the patience of a loving parent that wants to share his admiration for the innovations in the world with you. But he keeps himself grounded through all of it, doesn't let excitement nor passion steer him away from giving you his full attention when you interrupt with a question.

Even after that, he still extends an invitation for you to join him, to join them, the future awaiting just across the river, a world born anew. Saying, "Of course, you'll always be welcome there"—you—the one who destroyed the hopes and dreams of everything his family has ever amounted for. He still welcomes you with open arms, inviting the ripper along to the heavens.

-

Meanwhile, the player can almost make Aglaya tear in the literal first ingame meeting. Nothing major, just the hint of a few tears when you pick the sincere from the heart dialogue options the Haruspex is known for. It moves her, genuinely moves her.

And by that point, she still is apathetic towards Artemy and is burtal and efficient with her words. This isn't the soft loving Aglaya you get at the end of the game, this is the steel inquisitor Lilich you're being questioned by.

Yet she is almost moved to tears.

You know those types of people that bury themselves under 13 layers of irony to be able to even function? The people who can't self-actualize or speak sincerely in fear of being perceived as cringe? the people who refuse to take anything to heart no matter how raw or moving? Because it's safer to not let the world affect you, it's safer to shut out both the good and the bad. It's familiar.

Aglaya is on the far extreme opposite end of that. She looks for the meaning of life in everything, be it under a rock or over a bridge. She dissects everyone's words, she tests how much their weight would truly hold up against feathers in the brutal scales of her mind.

She isn't afraid to feel emotions. She isn't afraid to face herself and her vulnerability as a human being. To be raw and open, completely unphased by the spears piercing into her soft bare flesh because she knows pain is part of being human. That pain is the price of growing up. Part of the process of being a full-fledged being with a soul.

She is not controlled by her ego nor pride. She knows that she knows nothing which is the greatest strength she holds over all of the factions in pathologic, which is the sole reason she is able to outsmart and manipulation the bachelor himself in his own game of chess.

She understands pain, she understands happiness and she understands what it's like to not have a purpose. To struggle to survive when your life is at the mercy of the whims of children.

Aglaya is probably the most emotional character in all of Pathologic for how many feelings she contains and doesn't shy away from. The rollercoaster these 5 days have been to her since she arrived in town. Dealing with anger and revenge with Daniil, discovering trust, love, and a new meaning for life with Artemy, learning about powers beyond anyone's control with Clara.

It is ironic how she appears as the most cold and apathetic to onlookers based on their personal opinions of her.

Yet not even a single crack forms in her sanity. She accepts the theory of the town being alive almost immediately.

She thinks. Truly uses both her brain & heart, and doesn't make her decisions based on personal biases and gut feelings.

Cogito ergo eum

Therefore, she is.

-

On a last note, Sticky's animal being a kitten genuinely made my week so much better. I kept thinking about that fact whenever I was in a bad mood and how fitting it is since he clings after Artemy left and right, following him and fearing abandonment just because his dad took too long in the shower once ouch my heart. It's so fitting!!!

A cub and a kitten!!! what more could you ask for??

That detail definitely slipped me by, thank you so much for bringing it up to me. My life just got ten times better with that imagery in my head.

I hope you have a wonderful day! I had fun writing this <3 thanks for existing.

[saythemagicword]

PIERCING THROUGH THE SHADOW OF FAITH

Part v (Final Part)

It's been two weeks since I found out that my husband was cheating on me. Since then, it's just been me, Quiana, and my 11 week-old unborn baby. I've been going to my check-ups alone, and running errands by myself. Well, it's better, at least. I mean, why would he go with me? That trash chose to sleep with someone else; my bestfriend to be specific. So why would he choose to accompany me and his babies?

Where was he if you may ask? I don't know, probably with his new dear. He has been sending me text messages but I never spared a second to look what it says. My daughter and I were staying at our house, but we've been sleeping in her room. I can't bear to enter the room that shattered my dreams. Just seeing that door makes me recall how the end of the line was drawn. And I especially won't be able to lie in the matress that erased all the love we have shared. It's like a scene that keeps playing in my head as if I was there the whole time.

Regarding our business, I haven't been to our company since it happened. I can't stand the sight of him. You may think I could just fire him, but I chose not to. I...can't. I can't do that to the father of my kids. I don't think I could ever go to work with the thought of him not being around anymore. As much as how painful it was, there's something inside me that still wants to see him...that still wants him. I can't do that to the man I once loved, or the man I love.

While Quiana's asleep, I used my phone for a bit to distract myself from the hurtful reality. But then, I received a text message while I was scrolling through my screen, which made me accidentally open the message that goes exactly like this:

My Love

Tuesday, 5:57am: Good Morning, my love! I just want you to know that I am very sorry. Talk to me, please? I love you!

Tuesday, 11:03am: Babyyyy??? Please?

Tuesday, 3:18pm: My dear? Talk to me, will you?

Tuesday, 9:35pm: Please? I wanna see Quiana...hmm?

Wednesday, 12:42am: I miss you both..

Thursday, 1:49am: I miss you three..

Thursday, 7:02pm: Still no replies? C'mon Diana, I'm trying... Why are you so hard to please? You're not the only one who made the baby.

Today, 10:31am: Open the door. Now.

What? I was confused as hell, then I heard a bang at the door.

"Diana, open the door!" he roared as he banged our front door. I immediately went downstairs to shush him up because my daughter was sleeping. The moment I opened the door, my body got wrapped by the playful touch of faith. He immediately gushed in the door and hugged me; I almost got suffocated by his tight grip, as always. "I'm sorry..." he mumbled.

PAK!

I slapped him once again. He then touched his now-red left cheek. "How dare you come here like that? After all you did?!" I infuriatedly stated. I can feel the tears forming in my eyes, which, eventually lead to crying. I can't help but cry while arguing with the cheater. "Let me explain, just this once" he insisted.

"Okay! Tell me. Tell me everything. But. All you have to say are the answers for the questions I am going to ask." I said. "Fine, if that's the way I can talk to you. Ask me anything." he replied.

"How long has this been going on?" I asked. But he suddenly fell deaf and mute. "How long has this been going on? Avijandro Dominique Luna! For the last time, how long has this been going on?!!" I shouted in pain.

"Two years." he said.

What he had stated made me rethink everything that happened in our marriage.

"You scare me...you fucking scare me, Dominique! I don't know for the life of me which among the things you told me are true! You fucking scare me... two years? We're almost four years married. We shared love together, had kids together, and you still did that? I gave you everything. I gave you my body, my life, my soul, but...but you still chose someone else. And you know what scares me the most? The fact that you can make me feel loved with all your flowery words and considerate actions while having an affair with someone else." I poured my heart out. But before he could say anything else, we both got shocked by what happened.

"My baby..." I murmured. I saw how blood ran through my legs as I fell down in shock. I suddenly can't move. I quickly touched my bump. "It's all your fucking fault!" I blamed him. "I'm sorry.. I'm sorry, love. I'm sorry, dear. I'm sorry... It's not my intention.. I'm sorry, baby." he defended.

After that, we heard a cry. It was my baby Quiana, who seemed to be awakened by the argumentation between her parents.

"Just stay there, I'm gonna get her." said the trash.

After a minute, he came back carrying our daughter who now stopped crying. It seemed like she missed her father's presence.

Dominique kissed our daughter's forehead and flashed a worried smile. He then pulled something from his pocket and...

My world shattered in pieces. I saw my daughter snuggling on her father's arms, with a slit on her throat, lifeless. She bathed in her own blood. "You evil piece of shit! Why did you kill your daughter?!" I cried, the blood still flowing down my legs. "I'm sorry honey, I'm really sorry." he said as he slowly walked towards me. I was trembling in fear. Before I could do anything, he...

"Why...?" I murmed. I can feel how my strength was slowly decreasing as I lie on the floor. He stabbed me seven times, right exactly where my baby bump was. Dominque then placed our now lifeless daughter above my body. When I was about to close my eyes, I heard a loud thud.

He fell on the floor, beside me, with a knife on his chest.

"I-I'm sorry...my dear. I'm s-sorry I had to do this." He muttered and smiled. "I really lived up to my words, didn't I? Remember what I said on our wedding day? Side by side, we'll live together, we'll die together."

----------The End----------

[imaginingbleach]

im a little selfish for the bleach ask one, but can i know 1-22 😭😭

Bleach Ask Meme

Oh my goodness gracious that's a lot LOL.

1. Who are your top three favorite characters and why? (It can be arrancars, espada, humans, soul reapers, zanpakuto spirits, souls, visoreds, fullbringers, and of course I can’t forget the quincies)

It's my answer and I'm breaking the rules! >:0

Top 3 of each:

Arrancars: Nel, that little doggy, Ulquiorra (since he didn't make the espada list)

Espada: Grimmjow, Halibel, Nnoitra

Humans: Orihime, Tatsuki, Riruka (and Ichigo's teacher for being so chill)

Soul Reapers: Ichigo, Sosuke, Rukia

Zanpakuto Spirits: Zangetsu :>

Souls: Kukaku.

Visoreds: Shinji :>

Fullbringers: Riruka

Quincies: Masaki, Bazz B?, Meninas?

2. Who is/are your least favorite character(s) and why?

Central 46. (or Yammy lol)

3. Favorite minor character?

Answered here!

4. Favorite zanpakuto?

My OC's--- LOL sorry; I'd have to say Sode no Shirayuki. So pwetty.

5. Favorite shikai?

Katen Kyōkotsu

6. Favorite bankai?

Sakashima Yokoshima Happōfusagari / Tensa Zangetsu / Hakka no Togame

7. Favorite kido? (It can be bakudo, hado, or kaido)

Bakudo: Tanma Otoshi

Purely for this gif (linked to the wiki where I found it):

Hado: Sōren Sōkatsui

8. Favorite squad?

Have a soft spot for 5 & 10. :)

9. Favorite captain?

Shinji Hirako 💙

10. Favorite lieutenant?

Renji Abarai / Nanao Ise

11. What’s your favorite opening theme from the series?

Answered Here!

12. What’s your favorite ending theme from the series?

Answered Here!

13. Favorite manga panel?

Oh jeez, I don't know since there's so much I haven't read o_o

14. Most heart-wrenching death?

Senna still gets me 😭

I'm not sure otherwise.

15. Favorite arc and why?

As far as I know the arrancar arc. Let's be real, it gives me Shinji 😭

16. Favorite movie and why?

Answered Here!

17. Favorite piece of merch that you own?

I've had to move so much I don't have any Bleach merch anymore ;^;

18. Do you have any tattoos?

Not Bleach related, but I've got... several >~> All cat related.

I've got "Luna" with her birth year and d.o.d. with a little pawprint, Izaya next to Luna in a similar way with a little cat resting with a halo, on my other arm I have Sprinkle with a sleeping kitty, Wedge with a kitty tilting it's head;;; on my left shoulder I have five paw prints that are "inverted". They're filled in black with letter cut outs. S, A, R, J, and a star symbol. They're a little memorial for Sampson, Akasha, Ravina, Jasmine, and Star.

Izaya and Luna are memorials as well, Sprinkle and Wedge are just because they're my babies. :3

19. If you’re a fic writer, who do you write for?

Answered Here!

20. If you are an artist, do you have a favorite character to draw?

I don't draw much, so definitely no Bleach characters I've drawn ;^;

21. If you could be in the Bleach universe would you be a soul reaper, visored, human, quincy, espada or arrancar?

Weird question, idk. I would say soul reaper but my health/knowing my luck... uh probably end up being a plain human.

22. Free space to ask whatever you want that I missed or talk about something that isn’t mentioned!

THIS ISN'T A QUESTION I CAN ANSWER BECAUSE well

uh

[cloudsrust]

I feel like you'd draw Grimsley, Cynthia, or Elesa from Pokemon. Their designs seem to be right up your alley.

(Gonna answer all here since tumblr replies are a bit clunky,,)

All three are actually among my top faves! Grimsley especially with that style of his- especially his kimono look for which I just die for (which is apparently from Sun/Moon? Damn I missed so much not finishing it;;). Cynthia.. well she's just Cynthia- what's not to love? She gotta be one of the most pokèmon characters ever,, Elesa- absolutely loved her style in BW but I just fell in love with her B2W2 version- the contrast of that big, puffy jacket with her slimmer outfit is just.. *chef kiss* in my book. But- intimidated by such gender characters- I never attempted to draw 'em;; Been tempted to draw Grimsley for a while tho-

(Rest is underneath)

Omg how could I forget about them!! I think they were even my favourite elite 4 in HeartGold- heck shame on me for having to check who they were- (even though I think it was because names in italian are always different- poor guy named Pino.) With my love for masked characters I'm also surprised I never drew 'em.

(I already replied in the comments but yeah dfdsd)

As I said I only know Guzma as the "goofy bad guy who either isn't actually bad or had an hard past- oh also he loves his lil' Wimpod" that I usually see in fanarts- and if that's him, I love him :,> But since I never even met him in game I had no chance to draw him,,

Lysandre instead- other than him being an ass, I'd say he was unlucky to be in X/Y since it just didn't stuck with me :/ so I just- kinda forgot about him. He got so much style tho,,

Will I can see why some would think I drew 'em before- but.. why Chili? He even ironically was the only one of the twins I left out my tier list since I was just neutral about him dsdjsd. Never drew the fire waiter- that hair would be a nightmare to translate in my style too,,

Honestly? I think the only thing that stopped me from drawing him was the fact I just could not draw guys when I was obsessed with him;; (talking back when BW came out so- almost 10 years ago? Damn.). Absolutely adore him as a character and his story/theories still gives me the chills- should really consider doodling him sometime.

Oh I feel that honestly- I have gaps all over the place with both characters and pokemons, either because of memory or not having played that version ahah

But both of them, even though I haven't drawn either? Absolutely loved them,, both being stylish mysterious strangers that just decide to help/fight you on your journey- 10/10 in my book.

I'm extremely surprised that no one guessed the characters- I mean they were just 3.. with me not even saying from which games they were from so... understandable dfdjhf Two of them just seemed so obvious tho! Especially since I think I even talked about them a bit or even outright said I drew them but never posted it at some point-

But there were some really good guesses, my taste does actually shine through the characters I choose to draw as I thought then-!

[joheun-saram]

Whenever, Wherever (jhs)

Summary- Hoseok is a time traveller but that’s not the strangest thing that has happened to him. The strangest thing is when he meets a girl he’s never seen and she tells him he’s her best friend.

word count- 6.7k

pairing- timetraveler!Hoseok x Reader 

rating- R

genre- angst, fluff, smut

warnings- car accident, mention of parental death, mention of miscarriage, major character death, description of gun shot wound (but not gory), explicit smut (unprotected lovey dovey sex), hoseok pukes a lot (soz babe ily)

a.n- Ahhh I finally finished my Secret Santa fic for @thebtswritersclub! I’m so excited to reveal that I’m indeed @baepsaetan‘s secret santa 🎅🏼Day did you guess I was your ss? Did you like me subtly asking you questions about this during our sprints? hehehe! Happy new year, love! 💕

For people who can guess, this was inspired by the Doctor, River relationship and is loosely based on the Time Traveller’s Wife (eventhough I straight up have never seen the movie and literally only read the wiki page 🥴)

A huge thank you to Bella @hobisbeautifulass​ for beta reading for me! I’m sorry I made you cry at work!

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

-

The day his mother passed away was when Hoseok discovered his gift. 

Stranded by himself in a large suburban park in the middle of the night, there was an eeriness surrounding the dark expanse of road. There were no cars, no streetlights, and no solace to be found on the edge of the wooded trail he stood before. His heart was still racing, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he remembered seeing the blinding lights of the trailer in front of him just moments ago, his mother’s voice ricocheting through his head. He didn’t understand how he got here, and how the loud honks and screeches of tires had fallen to give way to this deafening silence.In the distance, he hears footsteps. The crackle of crushed leaves echoing in the air as he sees a man with dark hair, dressed in a large black sweater and a pair of blue ripped jeans, step forward. In the eight years he had lived thus far he had never been as terrified. The man lifted his arm as if to reach out towards him, and Hoseok closed his eyes tight, wishing he could run away.

Before he knew what happened, he was lying in his bed under his warm, colorful duvet. He rubbed his eyes, his heart still pounding and feeling an overwhelming urge to vomit. He thought it was a dream till his father entered with a tear-streaked face to let him know about his mother’s fatal accident.

That was the first time he time traveled, but it wouldn’t be the last. He didn’t know why he could do it. He didn’t know how he could control it. All he knew was that he was drawn to certain places, certain times. It was never when he wanted, like the first time when he wished he could go back to a few hours and not be greedy for ice cream so his mother would not have to drive him. Or the time he wished he could go back to tell his grandmother he loved her. Or the time in university where he wished he had never got caught cheating and lost his scholarship.

For being a time-traveler Hoseok’s life was full of regrets but the one thing he would never regret was meeting her.

-----------

For most people time is linear. There is the past, the present, and the future. But for Hoseok, time is a tangled mess, a convoluted web of events that he can only watch unfold. Never having the power to control where he ends up, Hoseok felt helpless, like his life was a punchline for the universe. All through his life, he would wind up at weird places at weird times. He would never know how long he would be there before being zapped back to whenever he came from.

Hoseok was twenty-five, he was single, he was a music producer, but most of all, he was tired. Lately, his time jumps were too frequent, going from happening once a year or so to once every few weeks. He would find himself in odd places at odd times, sometimes it was a quaint suburban street at dawn, other times a posh private school at midnight. All to stay there for seconds before zapping in his bed, as usual, his entire day lost, nausea bitting at his throat.

“Hoseok? Oh my god! It’s really you!” The new barista at his favorite coffee shop squealed when he made it to the front of the line, jarring him from his thoughts as he aimlessly scrolled through his Instagram, trying to decipher if he missed out on anything important. He looked at her, dressed cutely in a yellow sundress with the establishment's blue and gold apron on her waist. Her hair was loose around her face, her smile brilliant, as she looked at him with excitement. She was beautiful and it took Hoseok a few moments to stop himself from his shameless ogling.

“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” he asked, confused. He would have remembered if he ever saw her. She looked pretty unforgettable. Maybe she was one of Yoongi's friends, although something tells him Yoongi would find her sunshine persona offputting.

“Yeah! You’re my best friend!” She pointed at him, as his mouth dropped. Okay, so she was crazy. Great...

“Uh…” Hoseok didn't really know how to answer that, so he decided to follow his gut and just ignore her comment. “I’m sorry. Can I just order?”

“Vanilla latte, no whip, half sugar coming right up!” She beamed as she wrote on the cup, leaving him dumbfounded.

“How did you…?”

“Told you! You’re my best friend!” She pranced away to make his drink, as he stood there confused. When she returned, she handed him a drink and Hoseok could do nothing more than smile half-heartedly as he walked away. Did he have a stalker?

He decided not to visit that coffee shop again. Better not give this crazy person any more ideas.

------------

Hoseok stood in someone's home, someone's living room, dark other than the moonlight that filtered through the windows. It was a modest room, resembling one of those he would see on television. In the center of the room, there was a bright yellow rug flanked on three sides by a couch set facing a television hooked to the wall above a fireplace. It seemed cozy, somewhere he would have liked to live.

He had no idea where he was and he cursed his gift once again. This was getting ridiculous. This was the first time he had appeared inside someone's home. He shook his head as he looked at the clock placed on one of the small tables next to the big couch.

3 am. Great. He was trespassing in the middle of the night.

He decided to escape before the owners caught wind of him. As he made his way towards the door, a family portrait caught his eye. It hung right next to the front door, framed by a beautiful gold frame.

His mouth dropped. It was him. He looked a little older, the lines next to his eyes a little deeper as he sat smiling on a grassy field, his arms around a beautiful woman in a yellow sundress holding a small infant wrapped in green blankets.

He felt his heartbeat pick up. He knew her. It was the random barista girl. The one who insisted she knew him. What the fuck?

Before Hoseok could spiral any further he heard a noise behind him. Turning he saw her, dressed in flannel pajamas, walking down the stairs. She looked around her mid-thirties, nothing like the chipper twenty-something he'd seen last week.

He stood there blinking at her as she came closer, awe on her features that quickly morphed into sorrow. She touched his face gently as if in disbelief that he was there as her eyes glistened in the moonlight.

"Hobi?" She spoke, her voice was hoarse as a tear slipped down her cheek. Hoseok didn't know why but he felt his heart lurch at her tears. He had no idea who she was but he felt this innate pull towards her. He wanted to hold her, wipe her tears, and most fucked up of all, he wanted to kiss her.

"I- who are you?" He asked softly, his hand coming to hold hers as if he couldn't help himself, leaning slightly into her touch.

"We haven't met yet?" Her voice was wet with tears as she sniffled, moving closer to him. She hugged him, wrapping her arms around him tightly as if to feel if he was really there. He stood silently as she squeezed him close, and wrapped his arms around her when she started sobbing into his chest. He held her tight as she cried, his eyes brimming with sympathetic tears.

"I missed you so much Hoseok," she said as she looked up at him. He had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. Before he could think, he was leaning down to capture her lips with his own, his heart in his throat. She tasted like strawberries and mint, and he felt his head turn into a haze. Before he could deepen the kiss, he felt the familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. He pulled apart as he saw her fade slowly, trying his hardest to hold on to her as she did the same.

All too soon, the familiar sight of his bedroom materialized as he stood there alone, her last words ringing in his head.

"No! Please! It's too soon!"

He didn't know when he started crying, but soon he was kneeling on his floor sobbing for a girl he didn't even know the name of.

-----------

Hoseok didn't know when he fell asleep, but he woke up on the floor of his bedroom, his face puffy and back sore. Without a second thought, he rose from his position, grabbed his keys, and bolted out of his apartment. He had to find her.

It took him six days to meet her again. Six days of anxiety, amped up from the coffees he chugged as he visited the coffee shop at different hours. He couldn't even describe her properly, every time he went to the cashier to tell them how she looked they gave him an odd look. Maybe it was because by the third day he looked like a deranged stalker, describing her height and her build to anyone who worked there. He was surprised they hadn't banned him yet.

On the sixth day, she waltzed in and sat across from him, not a care in the world. Her smile was wide, a juxtaposition to the sad, older version of her he was fixated on. She wore a polka-dotted dress which hitched up a little as she crossed her legs. Hoseok was speechless as he almost choked on his coffee.

"You told me to meet you earlier but honestly, I just wanted to annoy you a little." She giggled, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, her eyes lit with mirth, and the stress of finding her hit him like a ton of bricks. Hoseok jumped out of his seat, his arms around her shaking as he tried to control his breathing. His mind was fuzzy, he had no reason to react this way, but he couldn't help himself. He didn't know her but he missed her. His heart was beating a mile a minute as he held her tighter.

"What took you so long?" He asked his voice a little hoarse from not speaking all day, his breath coming out in puffs against her neck. She hummed a little apology as her hand reached his hair, stroking his scalp in a way that made him instantly relax. He melted into her, her sweet floral scent a balm to his anxious nerves.

"Do you even know my name yet?" She spoke, her voice light and airy, as he finally let go of her. He cleared his throat in embarrassment, the tips of his ears turning as red as the beanie atop his head. He settled back in his chair awkwardly staring at her, fiddling with the string of his sweatpants that laid on his thigh. He looked up at her smiling face, as she put her hand on top of his. "It's Y/N. It's nice to finally meet you, Hoseok."

Her words were simple but their effect was anything but. Hoseok felt like everything in his world made sense, that all those times he had puked after a shitty trip down the stitch of time was worth it. Her hand was so soft, skin so perfectly smooth as her thumb stroked his hand, that Hoseok had a hard time finding words to express how he was feeling.

He looked at her shyly, not knowing where his nerves were coming from, as he smiled, meeting her warm eyes.

"It's nice to finally meet you too, Y/N."

----------

Hoseok sighed in annoyance as he walked down the path of the familiar suburban neighborhood. The sun shone brightly, and all he wanted to do was to be zapped out of here so he could end up in bed next to his girlfriend. It had been barely thirty seconds since he saw her, her soft skin molded against his as she slept next to him, her hair tickling his nose as he spooned her. He missed her already. This wasn't fair. Why did he have to walk around this stupid cul-de-sac when he could be wrapped in her warmth?

Ever since the coffee shop, things with her had progressed extremely fast. He couldn't help himself. He never felt as close to someone as instantly before. Granted, he knew they were going to get married and have a beautiful child together, but that didn't mean he knew how fast he was going to fall for her.

The day he first learned her name, he couldn't wipe the giddy smile off his face. She was different than any other woman he had met. She was outgoing and optimistic, and brave. Much braver than him. While he stuttered to ask her for her number, she leaned across the table grabbed his phone, unlocking it as if by magic, and added her phone number in. While he wrote and rewrote eighteen different texts, pacing in his living room, she beat him to it with a casual "Stop overthinking, dummy. It's only me!"

How could he stop overthinking? It was her. His dream girl gift-wrapped and sent to him by fate. He never thought his gift would be good for anything, but she was here and all his previous suffering finally made sense.

As he walked along the sidewalk, biding his time, he approached a bus stop. It was cute, and definitely not from his decade. A janky blue bus stopped, and out she walked, making Hoseok miss his step and almost trip. She was dressed in a school uniform, a crisp white shirt with a plaid skirt, a cute flower-shaped backpack on her shoulders, and her hands full of college pamphlets. Hoseok couldn't help the smile that overtook his features. He wanted to run up to her but he realized even if she was his girlfriend now, it was still a crime to approach a minor. His gift was so stupid.

He stood there, averting his stare and looking at his shoes instead, as she walked closer to him. He promised himself not to be a creep and try to talk to her but her voice makes him break his resolve.

"Ew. Can you not get a hint? Get away from me, you creep!" she yelled and Hoseok's head snapped up. He felt his face flare with rage as he watched a kid around her age try to put his arm around her as she tried to shove him off. The kid was relentless, throwing cheesy pickup lines her way as she continuously rejected him. He wanted to beat that little shit to a pulp.

Clearing his throat, he approached the two. "Dude, she said no. Get off her," he spoke through gritted teeth.

"What's it to you, old man?" The boy rolled his eyes, his hand still wrapped around her as she pleaded at Hoseok with her eyes. Hoseok wasn't old! He wasn't even thirty yet! He hated this kid.

"It's not nice to forego consent, kid," he sneered, schooling his face into the coldest expression he could muster. It seemed to have worked because one look at Hoseok's face and the future sex offender had his hand to himself before he walked off with a huff. Hoseok glared at him as he disappeared in the opposite direction. Good riddance.

"Thank you so much!" Her voice was higher than it was now, a little spring to it that only comes from innocence as she looked at him with round eyes. "You're like my own personal superhero!"

Hoseok felt awkward. He never wanted to talk to her here. Running his hands through his hair, he smiled at her, throwing an awkward "Any time!" as he rushed away. The feeling in his gut was back and he had never been happier to want to throw up. The afternoon sun faded as he stood in his own room, blinded and running to where he knew his trash can was.

As he vomited into the plastic can, he felt a hand rub soothingly down his back. She handed him a water bottle when he sat up next to the bin, his head aching.

"Welcome back, babe. When did you go this time?" She giggled at her own joke. God, Hoseok loved that laugh.

----------

Hoseok was nervous. He hadn't been this nervous in a really long time. Surrounded by all his friends dressed in custom tuxedos, he fidgeted with his bowtie, and scrutinizing his reflection in the mirror he fixed the lapels of the blood-red jacket he was wearing. Who convinced him this gaudy suit was perfect for the occasion? Oh yeah, his bride.

Jung Hoseok thought he'd accomplish a lot of things by the time he was thirty-one. He thought he would have signed to a major label as an in-house producer (he did), he thought he would be living in a beautifully decorated apartment downtown (he does), he thought he would have a cute little dog to welcome him home (Mickey is adorable, in case you were wondering), but he never thought he would be waiting at the end of the aisle for someone who would want to share their life with him.

Ever since she came into his life, Hoseok felt like it was filled with sunshine. She brightened every aspect of it. The first time he kissed her, really kissed her, it felt like happiness was resonating through his entire skeleton - like she was the one thing missing in his world. The first time he told her he loved her he almost threw up from the nerves knotting in his stomach.

He promised himself he wouldn't cry, but he couldn't help himself as she walked in. She had foregone the usual white gown, quoting something about the patriarchy, as she walked towards him in a dress, equally as red as his suit.

Her smile was wide and he was in awe of her beauty. He sniffled through his vows and she winked at him through hers, a simple gesture that made him chuckle and relaxed the emotions brewing in him. She could always do that with the simplest of things, be it a touch or a look. He kissed her with passion as their friends and family cheered. He hoped she didn't mind how much he was blubbering. He promised himself he wouldn't cry.

Their wedding was one of the best moments of his entire life. Dancing to cheesy music, cheek to cheek, the couple in red stood out amongst others in black. Hoseok was so in love that he didn't even mind when at the end of the night he felt the familiar buzz in his ears. He was slightly upset that he abandoned his new wife on his wedding night, but is it abandonment when the hotel lobby fades into what he knows now is his future home?

He saw her there, sitting on the couch, a frown on her face as she seemingly stared into space, dressed in a set of comfy pajamas and he couldn't control himself. Whispering her name so as not to startle her, he moved towards her when she smiled up at him. Sitting next to her on the couch, he pulled her to him with a grin. She giggled as she settles herself on his lap, running her hands over his jacket, before soothingly scratching his scalp. Hoseok couldn't help but lean into her touch, a goofy grin on his face. He was sickeningly in love.

"If it isn't my handsome new husband. I've been waiting for my wedding night for years." She joked as she pulled his face to hers, kissing him deeply. Hoseok's heart lurched in his chest as a little whine escaped him. She isn't surprised in the least to see him there, and why would she be? In the past five years, Hoseok has visited so many different versions of her. In a way, it's part of how he fell in love with her. She may only be thirty-one to him, but he'd seen her at every stage of her life.

As she deepened their kiss, his hands went around her waist squeezing her tight as she ground on him gently. He remembers the different versions of her as he feels his blood rush through his body, each touch sparking electricity under his skin. He remembered when he first laid eyes on her in that small cafe, his nerves on their first date, her tears when he proposed, the first time he had her under him after she invited him for a movie. But he also remembered her at six playing in the sandbox in the park, sixteen and humming to pop songs while she walked home, thirty-six as she cried in his arms, seventy when she looked frayed and weak but still beautiful. He had seen all of her life, moments that he was lucky enough to be brought to more often as he fell more in love with her. He had visited her hundreds of times, and he couldn't wait to do that for the rest of his life.

He kissed down her neck, leaving little bites that he soothed with his tongue as she undressed him, his jacket somewhere on the floor, his shirt mostly buttoned. She moaned as he cupped her breasts, a beautifully airy noise that set his heart on fire.

Soon the two were breathless and naked as he hovered above her on the couch. She arched into him as he entered her, her little whines encouraging him. He latched his lips on her hard nipples, nipping them how he knows she loves. She fit him so perfectly, always so perfect for him. His wife, his soulmate, his Y/N.

"I love you, wife," he whispered and placed his forehead on hers, his hips thrusting into her heat, as he relished the connection between them. He kissed her deep, almost overwhelmed by how perfectly their lips slotted together. He could kiss her forever.

"I love you, husband," she whispered into his mouth, and his pace increased, a hand coming down to rub at her clit. She writhed under him as he pushes her off the edge. Her legs shaking around him, her heels poking into his back, as he savored the way her walls pulled him in. He was panting when he came, filling her up and babbling a chant of her name.

He pecked her face about a thousand times as they both laid on the couch boneless and giggling. When he, inevitably, ends up back on his bedroom floor, he saw her smirking at his naked body on the floor, dressed in his t-shirt, her hair still wet from her shower. She squatted next to him.

"And where is your suit?" she chided, her lips lifting, even when she tries to pretend she's mad.

"We'll get it back in a few years." Hoseok shrugged as he pulled her into a kiss, missing her body next to him already.

----------

The bar Hoseok sat at is loud, too loud for the conversation Yoongi keeps trying to have with him, and that's precisely why he chose it. Next to their table is a bachelorette party, a gaggle of women dressed in feather boas and plastic tiaras, sloshing drinks on themselves as they excitedly laugh. It's an odd contrast to the way he's feeling, the atmosphere on his own table somber.

"So what? You're going to leave your wife at home and get wasted here? Is that what you do now, Hobi?" Yoongi scolded his friend but Hoseok was already too far gone, having had a few bottles of beers before even inviting Yoongi out. He knew he was an asshole, he didn't need Yoongi to remind him, but he needed to escape.

His once happy marriage was becoming tumultuous, and, no it wasn't because they didn't love each other anymore, but quite the opposite. The past two years had really shown him that even if they were fighting and yelling, they still loved each other. Even when they were mad they crawled into bed together at the end of the day and held each other, not being able to sleep otherwise.

Their marriage started off great. There were cuddles in the kitchen, dance parties in the living room, vacations in Rome, and a night where they both sat next to each other on the floor by the bathroom holding hands as they waited with a little blue stick. They made love on that floor when it showed two lines, but that wasn't a surprise - Hoseok had seen his child in that photo the first time he kissed her.

The surprise was when she woke him up in the middle of the night, thirteen weeks into the pregnancy clutching her stomach, tears running down her face. He had never felt as scared as he did at that moment, breaking all the traffic laws he could get away with to get her to the emergency room. He held her hand through the ultrasound, through the exam where she winced, and through the doctor solemnly telling them they had had a miscarriage. He didn't let himself cry in front of her, always wanting to be brave, but he sobbed when she slept, knowing that he had a child but gaining little solace from the fact as he mourned.

The second time the two lines showed up, they were careful. He waited on her hand and foot, working from home, ensuring she got the proper nutrients. The result was another trip to the emergency room and another night of tears holding each other. By the fourth time, they stopped being surprised, just two zombies driving calmly to the hospital, before returning home. She went to the bedroom, while Hoseok drank himself into a stupor, before asking Yoongi to meet him here.

Hoseok knew he had a child, but he felt hopeless, drowning in the undercurrent of hurt and apathy. He loved his wife, loved her more than anything in the world but he couldn't bear to look at her tonight, couldn't bear to convince her once again that he had seen their child. Maybe they adopted he thought bitterly as he switched from beer to shots.

He walked home in a drunken haze despite Yoongi's worried insistence that he take a cab. Somewhere during his walk, he had started crying, tears painting his face and sending shivers down his body as they cooled in the evening chill. He wished he could fix it for her, she was always so brave, always so supportive of his stupid ideas and moods. Every time they had a fight, she was the first to apologize, a smile on her face as she cracked a joke and tickled him till all his worries were forgotten.

Drowning in self-pity, he barely noticed the buzz in his ears as he entered his house. Stumbling into the living room he saw her sitting on the couch with a cup of tea. He stared at her as he realized he was in the future, her hair greying, and her skin wrinkled. He didn't know how to react, but the tears returned as he rushed to her falling on his knees as he held onto her legs.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry." He apologized again and again. He didn't care that this version of her wasn't the one that needed to hear him, but he felt like a terrible husband, a terrible partner, as he kissed her knees. She stroked his hair and shushed him with a soft smile.

"What happened, Hobi?" she asked, her voice gentle, and he felt all his walls come down as he told her things he was sure already knew. He felt exhausted, every cell in his body aching. He laid on the couch, head in her lap as she listened to him, consoling him with the wisdom of a life lived.

After he had fallen silent, sober, and unable to convey any more emotions, she spoke.

"Hobi. You have to be nicer to yourself. You were the perfect husband. The perfect soulmate." Her words were meant to be soothing, but as soon as he heard them he felt like ice was running through his veins. He sat up immediately, looking at her with wide eyes.

"Were?"

"I shouldn't have said anything..." She looked guilty, hurt crossing across her features, as she ran her hands up and down his arms.

"No! Y/N... I die?" His voice was small, almost timid towards the end of the sentence, as he held her hands to ground himself.

"I'm sorry, baby." Her eyes glistened as she cupped one of his cheeks, looking at him sadly.

"When?"

"I'm not telling you. You'll go insane." She was firm in her resolution, her tone taking cadence that she always used with him when declaring the end of a conversation. But Hoseok couldn't help himself. He was going to die, he was going to leave her. He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

"I'm already going insane! You have to tell me. What if I can stop it? We can be together. I don't want to leave you!" He pleaded, his eyes wide in panic.

"Hobi... You've never left me. You visit so often." She spoke with a small smile, seemingly reminiscing.

"Please! Please or else I'll go every day knowing it's my last with you. I - I can't do that. Please." He was almost whining at his point and he didn't care how desperate he sounded. He just wanted to know how much time he had with her. He was so stupid, how could he leave to get drunk while she waited for him at home. He didn't deserve the way this version of her was looking at him with such love.

"I barely even remember when it happened." He knew she was lying, could see it from the way her gaze averted his. Hesitantly she continued. "I'll... I'll just tell you. It's the day after you see yourself for the first time."

"See myself?" He repeated, his brain running through his memories. He would have remembered if he saw himself. It would be hard to forget, but he came up empty, tears of frustration lining his eyes as he ran his hand through his hair.

"That's all you told me. That you saw yourself and you felt bad for not being able to give yourself advice."

"I won't ever leave you. I promise. I'll come back. As much as I can." He kissed her at that, repeatedly, her lips soft under his. She knew he couldn't control his ability, but she smiled at him anyway, agreeing with his promise, telling him she'll see him soon, even if she had no idea if that was true.

When he was transported back to his room, he couldn't help himself from heaving on the floor, the contents of his stomach painting the hardwood. As always, she rushed to him, wiping his tears and walking him to the bathroom. She helped him change, before cleaning up after him, despite his protests, as she glared at him every time he tried to sit up from the bed.

When she returned from putting the cleaning supplies away, she shut the door to their bedroom, and there, on the hook behind it, hung his wedding suit, the crimson a bright splash of color amongst the white. She followed his eyes, giggling a little.

"You already made up for being an ass, don't worry," she joked, fingers poking at his side to tickle him gently.

Hoseok had missed her laugh. Missed it so much. He cut her off before she could say anything else, whispering apologies against her lips. He was never going to leave her.

---------

He was in a park, the trees throwing looming shadows under the moonlight as he walked around. He recognized this park, it was the one near her childhood home. She had taken him there during their first Christmas together, and he still remembered the silly grin on her face as she showed him the sandbox where she used to spend all her days as a kid, making sandcastles. He smiled at the memory. It was the first time in a while that his time travels hadn't taken him straight to her and he missed not being able to see which part of her life he was visiting.

He walked about reminiscing about his day. It was his daughter's third birthday and he felt a little bad leaving his wife to clean up the mess. He couldn't believe Soojin was three already. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through photographs as he waltzed down memory lane. He smiled softly at the photo from the day she was born. She was so tiny then, her little, pink heart-shaped lips in a pout as she stretched, her eyes almost disappearing beneath her chubby cheeks.

He kept his eyes glued to his phone, looking at photo after photo. There was one of her covered in mushed peas and he remembered how long it took him to get the mess out of the living room rug. There was one of her dressed as spiderman who she had declared her favorite recently after watching the cartoon on Netflix, doing the signature web-shooting pose. There was one of holding on to her mom as she walked for the first time. Hoseok's heart felt full, and he couldn't wait to get back home.

He decided to keep up with the tradition of seeing his wife every time he skipped through time and started walking towards her house, deciding to take the shortcut she had shown him. Humming a little, he placed his hands in his pockets as he strolled along, thinking about the delicious cake he had custom ordered for the party. He could probably eat the whole thing. Would it taste as good after it's been in the fridge?

His musings came to a quick stop however as he looked into the distance, just at the exit of the wooded path. There, dressed in a yellow sweatshirt with a giant dog on the front and jeans that didn't quite reach the ankles, was an eight-year-old boy. He walked closer and his heart stopped as he saw himself for the first time. He was crying, sniffling in the air, and as Hoseok approached his younger self, he vanished into the air.

He felt the air leave his lungs as he stumbled in his steps, falling on to the ground.

"That's all you told me. That you saw yourself and you felt bad for not being able to give yourself advice."

No. It's too soon. He couldn't collect his thoughts as they rushed through his head barely leaving a trace. When he had that conversation four years ago he thought he had more time. Soojin was just three years old. He thought he would have years, that he would see graduations and intimidate boyfriends, and walk her down the aisle. It's too soon.

He could feel himself hyperventilating, his breaths short and his ears echoing with his heartbeat, as he tried to collect himself. He looked at his hands shaking in his lap and his eyes focused on his outfit. How could he have forgotten what the man in his memory was wearing? He put on these ripped jeans this morning, the same jeans that haunted him for the first sixteen years of his life. How could he have not realized that he was the creepy old man he had nightmares about as a kid?

Trying to control his breathing, he started to formulate a plan. He didn't want Y/N to know, he didn't want her to go through the emotions he was going through right now, because she would go through so much worse when he was gone. He sat in the park and let himself cry, hoping that he wouldn't have to leave soon because leaving meant saying goodbye and he was not ready yet. It's too soon.

---------

Hoseok awoke with a sinking feeling in his heart and a lump in his throat. It was the day he had been dreading since before he learned her name. He hated that he didn't have enough time. Enough time to hold her, enough time to watch his daughter grow up, enough time to build a bigger family.

He found the other side of the bed empty and standing up with a groan, he moved to the room next door. He stroked his daughter's cheek a tear spilling out his eye that he quickly wiped. Bending down, he kissed her little cheek, sniffing her calming scent.

"Daddy loves you, baby. Daddy will always love you. Please be good for your mommy okay?"

She only moved a little at his words, sighing before continuing to snooze. Hoseok ran his hands over his face, his heartbeat accelerating. He looked at the mirror in the corner and practiced his smile a few times. He had to be brave. He had to be brave for her, for both of them.

He walked into the kitchen, schooling his expression into one of bliss, as he saw her standing in her underwear and one of his t-shirts, and his heart felt hollow. He loved her so much. He hated that he had to leave this way, but that was his fate from the beginning, wasn't it? Their whole relationship, everything, started from and led to this moment. Padding over to her, he put his arms around her squeezing her tight, his chest molding perfectly to her back as it always did.

She giggled as she leaned into him, softly caressing his arms and making him nuzzle further into her neck. He took in her delicate scent and tried to control his breathing. He could not break.

"Someone's cuddly this morning," she commented, turning around with a grin.

"I just love you, that's all."

She cooed as he brought his lips to hers. What he intended to be a gently good morning kiss, turned into so much more as he lost control of his emotions. He kissed her like he would forget her taste, but it wasn't him who would be dwelling on this moment for years to come.

When the two broke apart, he cupped her cheek as he felt the familiar buzz in his ears.

"You know I love you more than anything in the world right?" He whispered before he started to see his kitchen fade away.

Her voice echoed as he was teleported into a dark room, momentarily blinded.

"Aww, I love you too, my Hobi!"

He fumbled around a little and then he heard it - a loud gunshot, shattering his eardrums. The sound hurt more than the sudden sharp pain in his chest, he thought, as he gasped for air, stumbling to the ground. The lights in the room turned on then and he saw the younger version of his father in law, demanding something, his voice inaudible.

She never told him details about this moment, but kind of fitting that it was in the hands of her father. He never did like Hoseok much anyway. His breaths felt shallow as he chuckled at the irony. Or was it justice? Karma? He didn't know. Nevermind, his chest hurt far more than his eardrums. Fuck, being shot is a bitch.

He felt the nauseous pull for the last time as he dropped into his bedroom. The last thing he saw was his wife  rushing over to him. Oh, she was so beautiful, he was so lucky she chose him.

For being a time-traveler Hoseok’s life was full of regrets but the one thing he would never regret was meeting her, even if that was the reason he lost her.

—

I hope you liked this super sad angst piece, for more fics of mine check out my masterlist

[paversandplatters]

||𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (3/20)

Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)

Reader x multiple

Chapter 3: A Site to Behold

Nick manages a slow shake of his head as she looks up at the railings of the church choir loft, it’s about 20 feet above them. She reaches for the knife at her hip, pulling the bloodstain instrument from her belt keeping it at the ready. With a few hand signals motioning to follow.

With some great reluctance they begin to ascend the stairs with her cringing slightly as each wooden step creaks softly in protest. Once at the top she realizes that there are three doors two on the left hand wall, both a women's and men’s restroom and at the very end of the narrow walk way is a door slightly ajar leading into what they can assume is storage. With bated breath she listens silently noting that the sound seems to be coming from the women's restroom. loud rattling and scraping of metal against the floor, heavy footsteps marching back and forth; faster and not as clumsily as the cadavers below them were. Chains, she realizes, it sounds like chains.

With a few hand waves they position themselves around the doorway with their backs against the wall she reaches for the handle of the door slowly pushing it open. The rattling of chains and footsteps stop in time with the dull whine the door makes- silence returns. Heart pounding in her ears, she glances towards Nick and George seeing how both are white knuckling their guns In anticipation of the worst.

A moment passes ...

Then another ...

Nothing.

Not a sound.

They glanced between each other- a conversation carries on silently. Who is going to look in? Though the question isn't left unanswered for very long before she takes the first step to move into the doorway, craning her neck to peek at what hellish creature maybe waiting there.

Her breath is caught mid step,She'd been expecting this but somehow the site still caught her off guard. Perhaps it's just the sheer towering height of the thing stood there in the middle of the room- it's figure outlined in the dull orange morning light that’s managed to seep through the cracks and opening of the boarded up window in this dirty abandoned restroom... Or maybe that it’s the bulky metal chains connected to each appendage. Each end of chain is anchored to different areas of the room some to the ceiling, other to the walls and the floor very obviously meant to restrict the movement of this thing. But the most striking feature was the large circular mask on its face bearing no features save a simple smiley face. Much like the biters downstairs a large crudely made cage framed his head connecting to a heavy and equally crudely made metal collar around its neck.

She's frozen, examining the creature before her. The very presence of this thing is almost overwhelmingly terrifying. It's just standing there stock-still faced in the vague direction of the door, covered head to toe in caked blood and dirt. She almost doesn't notice it at first but… it’s shoulders are rising and falling in a slow rhythm. It's breathing. It’s ALIVE.

“Holy shit!”

She must have been caught in her trance too long as Nick’s reaction not only makes her jump but also the person before them suddenly starts to move and reel backwards, thrashing violently like a wild predatory animal trying to escape its bindings. He’s backed himself into a a corner pulling on the chain hard enough she sure his wrists have to have taken some sort damage but he makes no reaction to such. Nick unconsciously stumbles back crashing into George sending them both onto their asses, George whines at the Jostling of his still unattended wounds.

“Nick what the fuck-“ The thought is suddenly cut off as he catches site of the thing before them.

“What isI the fuck is that?!”

George squeals out now three shades paler, be it from the shock or loss of blood. Nick is the first to level his gun at the figure. Instinct takes over as she knocks the gun from his hand the single round missing its target and lodging itself into the rafters above.

“WAIT!” The proclamation is met with two very confused faces.

“He's alive! don't shoot hold your fire.” She doesn't so much ask, as much demands. They exchange a look of complete disbelief, truthfully she knows they can’t be blamed.

“Just hold on they're still alive and obviously being kept here forcibly.” she clarifies. The ominously large figure pauses in its violent thrashing to turn an look in her direction or well the direction of her voice. Can this thing even see? The tension in his posture is enough to let her know he still hasn't let his guard down but is obviously listening to her words. Lord only knows what he's seen and experienced in the time that he’s been shackled here.

Cautiously she steps forward.

“You are alive aren’t you…?” It takes a moment but she’s answered with a curt nod.

“Why are you being kept here…” nothing happens for a long moment before he shrugs. She moves to take another step.

“Can you speak…?” The knife in her hand is still raised and ready. A glance behind her assures that her two companions are poised and ready for back up.

Again he doesn’t speak but his body language tenses a bit more but he doesn't make a move to oppose her coming closer. Boots thump softly against the floor, his breathing sounds labored now, likely exhausted.

“You’re injured aren’t you..?” The massive figure takes a moment to tilt his head questioningly before nodding.

“I can help, I won’t hurt you unless you hurt me… understand?”

Another nod. Good this makes this much less complicated. When her hand finds his arm, it’s quickly yanked from her grip drawn backward away from her in protest.

“Woah hold on big guy it’s just me, I have to check you over… make sure you’re not infected or something. “

He slowly stills, allowing her hand to rest on his forearm.

She begins to narrate her next steps as she moves her hands to grab the bottom of his shirt. there's too much blood, dirt and grime on the garment to be able to tell the extent of the wounds there. The shirt ends up being peeled off, having been stuck to the skin with now long coagulated clumps of blood. It reveals a long gash that starts at the bottom of his ribcage curved down to just under his left hip. She has no idea how he still holding together- from the looks of it his guts should be spilling out onto the floor. She’s not sure whether or not to call this a miracle or some hellish punishment he’s meant to endure. Continuing on to check him over, there are numerous blossoming bruises and welts, all in different stages of healing. she swears she that one of his ribs is poking out at an odd angle. The more she inspects the more it sickens her to look at.

“You’ve really been through hell haven't you..” there is no response to her words.

“He’s clean. No bites just fucked up.” She calls out confirming her findings to party waiting in the doorway.

“That thing is really alive…?” the Brit mutters out still looking on with complete shock still settled into his features.

“So now what? He must have been chained for a reason, are you just gonna let him out..?” Nick questions voice obviously portraying his concern. Again she doesn’t blame him, there’s no evidence to suggest any of this is a good idea.

“He could’ve killed me already if he wanted… besides he knows he’s out numbered..”

“What- you’re not actually going to- y/n no absolutely not!” George squawks protest.

“I can’t just leave him here.” Y/n confirms, hands already in her pocket fishing for the one of the most invaluable items she owns: a hair pin.

“He could be a murder for all you know!”

“Like we aren’t..?” She mutters back. In the two years the worlds gone to shit, survival comes at any cost- even at the expense of other people lives. It’s a harsh reality sure, but what other choice is there? You do what you can to keep moving, if you’re lucky you find a party that’s willing to move with you for the sake of safety in numbers and a common goal. George of all people should be aware of that more than anything…

With out any further words of protest, she produces the pin from her pocket setting to work on freeing his arms and legs first. He keeps to himself but begins to tremble slightly. It’s takes some time and finessing, but shackles clatters to the ground one by one. The only thing that remains on his person is the cage and mask on his head.

“You’re too tall, lean down so I can get that stupid thing off you.”

He bows his head almost eagerly, nearly folding himself in half trying to grant her as much access as possible. The angle is awkward, making the task that much harder, none the less after a few minutes of fidgeting the collar pops open. Just as soon as it does his hands fly to his neck, desperate to remove the cage. He tosses it aside, and frantically his hands reach to the back of his head pulling the straps of the mask still stuck on his face. With sheer brute force it’s pulled free, joining the cage at the other end of the room.

Suddenly she’s met with wild green eyes that peek out under from long wavy dirty blonde hair. Just barely, able to make the faint marking of freckles on his face before he turns quickly to stare down at the two men guarding the doorway. The cloth gag in his mouth is pulled free as if were made of paper.

His voice rings out raw and cracked.

“they’ll be back soon.”

Let me know if your like to be added to the tag list!

@the-wandering-pan-ace

[thecoleopterawithana]

"I never knew what he wanted in a woman because I never knew what I wanted" I think this quote is so telling but I haven't seen much commentary on it. Do you have any particular thoughts? It seems to put John in a very sad light. And to me it's one of his most revealingly repressed-gay quotes, but maybe there's another way to interpret & I'm overstepping.

Hello there, dear anon! 

I hope you’re still around to see this! As usual, I’ve taken an appalling amount of time answering this thought-provoking ask. However, in this instance, that “appalling amount of time” is probably over a year; a new record for me. Wherever you are now, I hope you are well, and if my ramblings don’t reach you, may they interest others. 

I also have to admit that at the time I received this ask, I was most likely not equipped to understand all the layers of meaning in this sentence. And it’d be quite presumptuous of me to assume that I am completely prepared now. But let’s just hope that my ability to perceive their nuances has grown since then, and will continue to do so in the future. 

Needless to say, this is only my current interpretation, and I welcome any commentaries that will help broaden it! (And please don’t fret for a second about offering your own interpretation and somehow “overstepping”; we’re all just having a decades-spanning conversation here.)

Now, on with your question.

First, let’s integrate that sentence in its full quote:

Q: So, John. You and Paul were probably the greatest songwriting team in a generation. And you had this huge falling out. Were there always huge differences between you and Paul, or was there a time when you had a lot in common?

JOHN: Well, Paul always wanted the home life, you see. He liked it with daddy and the brother… and obviously missed his mother. […]

JOHN: So it was always the family thing, you see. If Jane [Asher] was to have a career, then that’s not going to be a cozy family, is it? All the other girls were just groupies mainly. And with Linda not only did he have a ready-made family, but she knows what he wants, obviously, and has given it to him. The complete family life. He’s in Scotland. He told me he doesn’t like English cities anymore. So that’s how it is.

Q: So you think with Linda he’s found what he wanted?

JOHN: I guess so. I guess so. I just don’t understand. I never knew what he wanted in a woman because I never knew what I wanted. I knew I wanted something intelligent or something arty. But you don’t really know what you want until you find it. So anyway, I was very surprised with Linda. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d married Jane (Asher) because it had been going on for a long time and they went through a whole ordinary love scene. But with Linda it was just like – boom! She was in and that was the end of it.

— John Lennon, interviewed by Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld, at St. Regis Hotel, New York City (5 September 1971).

So, the interviewer inquires about their differences and similarities during the relationship, probably to assess the pervasiveness of the clashes that supposedly led to the “huge falling out” in “the greatest songwriting team in a generation.”

And John answers that “Paul always wanted the home life.” 

At first glance, and following the logic of what was asked, one might assume John was pointing to a difference that always existed between them. And an irreconcilable difference at that, given that it’s the first thing he points out in answer to a question that is probing for sources of conflict that might explain their falling out.

So we get a feeling that John saw Paul having a family as incompatible with Paul maintaining a partnership with him. They were mutually exclusive; thus, Paul getting a family resulted in a falling out between them.

That right there carries a lot of implications already.

Because John himself also wanted the “complete family life”:

Q: But with that much experience behind you, now, would you like to have more children?

JOHN: Yeah, I – as – as many as come, you know. If Lennon roll out, as they. [thoughtful] I like large families. The idea of it.  

— John Lennon, interviewed by Brian Matthew (13 November 1965).

And we shouldn’t take his disappointment with the suburban life in Weybridge as proof that he’d given up on that fantasy. It’s all about the circumstances, in the end; who you’re sharing your dream with. 

After all, Yoko herself came with a “ready-made family”: a six-year-old daughter named Kyoko, who she was fighting to get the custody of, after divorcing the father, Anthony Cox, in February 1969; by then John and Yoko would even have a baby of their own. 

This would all eventually fall through, as Yoko suffered a miscarriage in late November 1968, and Cox would disappear with Kyoko in 1971. Yoko would not see her daughter again until almost three decades later.

So you could see how John could have felt resentful of the family life Paul had built. Always perfect mirror images, Paul was living the dream, while John’s turned into a nightmare.

But with John, the situation is always doubly complicated. Because if he was often envious of Paul, John was also jealous. Note that “envy is when you want what someone else has, but jealousy is when you’re worried someone’s trying to take what you have.”

So we have to go back to his first answer. We’ve established that wanting “the complete family life” was something they had in common rather than something they differed in. 

But Paul wanting a family is still presented here as a reason for their falling out, or at least tangentially related. And John goes on to present his theory about how Paul’s choice in life partner was based on who could provide that for him. It wouldn’t be the career-focused Jane, or the inconsequential groupies. 

And it couldn’t be John himself.

We should also note that, in answer to the second question, it is made clear that John’s previous declarations were but a retrospective interpretation of what happened. As he goes on to admit, at the time, John was surprised by Paul marrying Linda instead of Jane.

And that is how we finally get to the sentence in question: 

“I never knew what he wanted in a woman because I never knew what I wanted.” 

A possible first layer of meaning is what I’m guessing you meant by this being “one of his most revealingly repressed-gay quotes.” 

1. The emphasis being placed on John never knowing what he wanted in a woman, and thus not being able to know what Paul would find more desirable in a wife.

He does go on to use admittedly questionable pronouns: “I knew I wanted something intelligent or something arty.” It happened in other instances in this interview:

I just realized that [Yoko] knew everything I knew, and more, probably, and it was coming out of a woman’s head. It just sort of bowled me over, you know? And it was like finding gold or something. To find somebody that you can go and get pissed with, and have exactly the same relationship as any mate in Liverpool you’d ever had, but also you could go to bed with him, and it could stroke your head when you felt tired, or sick, or depressed. It could also be Mother. And obviously, that’s what the male-female – you know, you could take those roles with each other.

— John Lennon, interviewed by Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld, at St. Regis Hotel, New York City (5 September 1971).

So one could see how, at this time, John was struggling to manage the differences between male and female partners. As Cynthia put it:

I think he was trying to find himself a… what he’d call a soulmate. Someone who had as mad ideas as he had. I think he felt that she had the talent… but that’s debatable. But he needed that— he didn’t need a ‘mumsie’ partner at that point. He needed a mate. And I think he actually said, at some stage, in an interview that, you know— She’s the nearest thing to a man — a mate; man — that he’s ever had in a woman.

— Cynthia Lennon, interviewed by Alex Belfield for BBC Radio (2006).

Another angle that I find curious is:

2. The parallel drawn between Linda’s knowledge of Paul’s wants (and her ability to satisfy them) versus John’s.

“[Linda] knows what he wants, obviously, and has given it to him.” / “I never knew what he wanted”

This one integrates a theme I’ve been interested in exploring recently: their epistemology of each other. Basically, assumptions of knowledge; when it works out and when it doesn’t.

1968: I wonder should I call you but I know what you would do

JOHN: Well, [‘How Do You Sleep’]’s an answer, you know? Paul, uh, personally doesn’t feel as though I insulted him or anything. ’Cause I had dinner with him last week, and he was quite happy.

— John Lennon, interviewed by Mike Douglas on The Mike Douglas Show (12 February 1972).

1973: And I know just how you feel / And I know now what I have done / And I know and I’m guilty (yes I am) / But I never could read your mind

In this specific case, he could be humbly admitting he never knew what Paul wanted. But another possible reading of the sentence is the exact opposite:

3. The assumption that they were so connected, so much like a single entity, that to know himself was to know Paul. That their wants and needs are aligned, and what John wants must be what Paul wants.

I never knew what he wanted in a woman because I never knew what I wanted.

1967: I am he / As you are he / As you are me / And we are all together

1969: I know you, you know me

The mirror image of this interpretation would be Paul’s own thought-provoking declarations:

[T]he Beatle thing is over. It has been exploded, partly by what we have done, and partly by other people. We are individuals— all different. John married Yoko, I married Linda. We didn’t marry the same girl.

— Paul McCartney, for Life Magazine (7 November 1969).

Q: Will Paul and Linda become John and Yoko?

PAUL: No, they will become Paul and Linda. 

— McCartney press release (9 April 1970).

And finally, I believe another very important facet expressed in this sentence is:

4. The theme of John not knowing what he wants for himself.

I never knew what he wanted in a woman because I never knew what I wanted. […] But you don’t really know what you want until you find it.

This is a sentiment that John has expressed before.

JOHN: Weybridge won’t do at all. I’m just stopping at it […] I think of it every day — me in my Hansel and Gretel house. I’ll take my time; I’ll get my real house when I know what I want. You see there’s something else I’m going to do, something I must do — only I don’t know what it is. That’s why I go round painting and taping and drawing and writing and that, because it may be one of them. All I know is, this isn’t it for me.

— John Lennon, interviewed by Maureen Cleave for the London Evening Standard (4 March 1966).

JOHN: I think, in one way, all of us were under the slight illusion that we might— or maybe it wasn’t an illusion and maybe had we pushed harder we would have got what we wanted, but I’m not sure that anybody really knew what we wanted. We knew we didn’t like what was happening but nobody quite knew what it was that we wanted, cus we’d never had it!

This is another very fascinating avenue I’ve been wondering about. 

John Lennon, the Dreamer, not actually knowing how that dream would manifest. Him having a vague romantic idea of what he wanted, but not really knowing how to practically bring it about. 

[Imagine here a whole essay of John versus Paul in the studio, and their contrasting abilities to materialize the sounds they heard in their head and turn them into something that others could experience with them.]

In conclusion, these are about all the potential levels of nuance I can read in John’s statement at the moment. All of them fascinating and worth exploring. So I’m truly grateful to you for giving me the perfect opportunity to do so. 

It would fill me with joy to have this conversation continued with all who feel like adding their own perspectives to it!

[inessencedevided]

The Untamed, episode 43 - watching notes

The sun is setting on this show for me and I'm not ready to say goodbye yet 😔

(As if I will! Ha. Imma blog about nothing else the next ... probably years)

Last time on Sophie watches the untamed: We're still in the restricted section. The twin love-struck idiots of lan and wwx found the Collection of turmoil and suspect Jin Guangyao of intentionally bringing about Nie Mingjue's qui deviation.

As much as I love the "hihi. Wwx is wearing his boyfriend's underrobe" aspect of this, I also like the visual incorporation of lwj's colour scheme into wwx's clothes. (Not just through the undertone, his black tone also has slight grey seam.) It's as if now that they are finally fully committed to each other, wwx is displaying it for all the world to see

Jin Guangyao tore out a page to hide the evidence. That's not how to do that!!!

My heart is breaking for Lan Xichen. He looks like a man standing on a train track and watching the light speed towards him in horror while he's unable to move away

Feels like exactly no one on this show is getting their happy ending

*thinks about yi city and cries forever*😭😭😭

"Wangji, Jin Guangyao,in my eyes, is a totally different person from how you and other people see him." And we all know that lwj knows exactly what that's like

PARALLELS! 😭

(Sorry, I have a thing for those)

And lwj looks so pained

Thinking about it, it's now the man lwj loves against the man lxc loves (in whatever way. I still ship them. Not sure if its "canonically" romantic though). They can't both be right, so ... one of them is going to get their heart broken

Great, first the Yunmeng brothers, now the lan brothers are breaking my heart 🥺

Lwj says he's visiting "Grand Master", that's Lan Qiren right? What happened to him anyway? Haven't seen him in ages

I love how, even though it is wwx's word against jgy's right now, lan Xichen is still genuinely kind towards wwx

The whipping scars! I hadn't even thought about those anymore 😳

I'm probably going to get my heart ripped out soon, but before that

"You are not qualified to talk to me."

Sickest. Burn. Ever.

Also, no disrespect to the actor, but that's a backpfeifengesicht if I've ever seen one

(Backpfeifengesicht: "German compound word for a 'face that should be slapped'. Ex:. When GWB smirks on TV, my German friend Uwe tells me that he sees a 'Backpfeifengesicht'." Urban dictionary)

He went to burial mount after wwx was killed??? 🥺🥺🥺

I've noticed something with lwj. When he's distressed, he won't look people in the eye or not even at their faces, just in their very general direction. To me it seems like he almost... can't? Any thoughts on that? Cause I'm intrigued but I can't think about it too much right now cause I'm already writing half an essay in this commentary again 😅

Oh fuck YOU Jiggy!!!

Holy shit ... holy shit

Lan Wangji 🥺🥺🥺

He fought against everyone?

This is how he showed his grieve???

He went to the place wei Wuxian had called home and ... what? Protected or ot so they wouldn't desecrate it? To search for him? To ... what?

Oh god, Wangji! 😭

That image... I'm speechless. It's so powerful

He's half-mad with grieve and kneeling in the ruins of his dead loves home, having fought himself to exhaustion and I'm... not okay 😭😭😭

He had to repent for THREE YEARS??

Oh no, you don't

Holy ...

Holy shit

How can my heart break and be so full at the same time 💔🥺

Lan Wangji ... my love

I'm ... so proud of him and yet so sad

Here he is at his lowest, finally standing up to the orthodoxy he knows to be wrong

This is inhumane 😳

The corporal punishment of the lan sect always was but THIS

Fuck them

Or Lan Qiren specifically

That's his nephew. How can he even look at himself?

"Eradicate evil. Establish laws. Than goodness will be everlasting."

IT'S NOT THAT FUCKING EASY!!!

WHAT EVEN IS "GOODNESS"? WHOSE VERSION OF GOODNESS? DEVINE EVIL! HOW FAR REACHING INTO THE PRIVATE SVERE SHOULD THUSE LAWS BE? DOES IT STOP AT "DON'T STEAL FROM PEOPLE OR AT "DON'T PICK YOUR NOSE AT DINNER"?

what I'm saying is: there are about 200 ethical question ls being raised by this rule alone!

And now lan Wangji had 3 tears to contemplate them

Wwx asking "why would he bother ...?" BECAUSE YOU ARE LOVED YOU GODDAMN IDIOT!!

Ohhh! We're getting their parents' story 😱

Oh this IS a Lan episode 💙

So another Lan falling quickly and never looking back?

I'm sensing a pattern here 🤨

Wait what?

Let me get this straight:

Their father loved a woman who DID NOT love him back and then killed one of his teachers

(And I hope we find out why. That sounds like there is a REALLY interesting story there)

Then he takes her to cloud recess and DESPIT HER NOT LOVING HIM, marries her, fathers two children with her (um... how voluntary was that????) locks her up (as punishment for the murder?) then locks HIMSELF up and then fucks of and leaves his children with their uncle

What kind of disaster human being was their dad????

Did he do the right thing WHEN HE MARRIED AND PROBABLY RAPED A WOMAN WHO DIDN'T LOVE HIM???

NO!!!

The fuck kinda question is that ??

If you have to marry her against her will and then lock her up, guess what? That's not love, that's wanting to possess someone

I hope that maybe the connotation is different in the og Chinese,but I'm not holding out much hope

That explains why Qiren is such a lovely character through 😒

But god, my heart breaks for lwj and lxc :'(

Little Lan Wangji!!! 🥺🥺🥺

Oh darling ...

Oh no ...

Look at him look at his crooked little headband😭😭😭

He went there every month!!!

Oh Wangji 💔💔

Stubborn, steadfast, loving Wangji!

That seals it. I KNEW why he was my favourite character

He isn't so passive all the time, because he feels too little! He feels entirely too much!!! 😭😭😭

And that explains why lwj was so worried about wwx's demonic cultivation harming him!!! 😭

Oh god, it was such an old hurt for him. I had no idea 🥺🥺🥺

All of these characters need a therapist

Lxc playing the flute to what ... deal with his emotions? Express his grieve? Remeber their mother? (And god, do I want to know more about her!!) Either way, It's making me tear up 😥

"It's so difficult to determine others personalities depending on our perspective." Welcome to the human condition, my friend 💙

And that's love

I ... wish I could show you my face right now

I'm smiling through tears right now

It's so utterly beautiful

He looks so vulnerable here! With his hair (almost) down

And given what we've just learned, that's remarkable!!!

He closed himself off became the immovable stone-faced second Jade of Lan and yet, somehow, wwx wormed his way into his heart and sure, both of them needed to overcome a lot, but here they are, vulnerable and open,not letting their parent's fate decide theirs

I'm... *sniff*

I can never get enough of lwj with his hair like this!!

It's so domestic, so soft

And look at his face! 😭

And mister "alcohol is prohibited" is now serving it 😭

Oh my god this scene is so beautiful

I'm speechless

Was the second flute Jin Guangyao as well?

At this point I'm just expecting more plot-twists

He looks so young! 🥺

Both of them are exhibiting so much growth in this episode!! Wwx realising that the fact that the cultivation world had always looked for a scapegoat and that he himself was just the most convenient target, that it's not to any personal failing of his, that's HUGE!

And I'm so proud of him :')

Lwj starting to play in the distance :')

This is so utterly peaceful

My heart is bursting 😭😭😭

The music, the scenery ...

Also, both thinking they have a clean conscious!!! 😭😭😭

Again, it's them holding the same morals that's important! I cannot tell you how happy that makes me!

(But wwx still cannot drink like a normal person :D)

The contrast to lxc sitting alone couldn't be starker 😔

Wait, why are there puppets at burial mounds again?

Are we going back to burial mounds? I'm weirdly excited 😅

Aaand Jin Guangyao just proved to them that he's lying. Poor Xichen

Yup, I'm pretty sure his heart just snapped in half

Little Apple!!! I've missed him 😁

Gosh, they're laying it on thick with the domestic husband bliss this episode and I'm here for it.

I love lwj's soft smile when he looks at bunnies so much!! 🥰

Bunnies, bunnies everywhere

It's the invasion of the bunnies

Who ever is the show runner *banging pots and pans together* IT'S GAY!! cab you all hear me? These two love each other! It's G - A - Y!!! Gay!!!

Probably

Lwj's shocked look when wwx says that he's not popular with little animals, as if to say "how dare they!" :D

Holy shit ... HOW MANY SCENES CAN THEY INCLUDE IN THIS EPISODE THAT MAKE THEM LOOK SO GODDAMN MARRIED???

Is wwx sitting side saddle?

Wwx plays wangxian :')

He finally remembers how lwj recognized him :')

Sneaky, show, very sneaky :D

Wwx about to casually steal some melons, lwj *wordlessly takes out money* ^^

MIANMIAN!!!! AAAAAAHHHHHH!

I'd given up hope that we'd see her again!!!

I'm so happy I could burst!!!

Lwj's little exasperated head-shake before he stands up from crouching behind some hay 😂

Aww, look at her family! 😍😍😍

She build her own live :')

And look at this badass woman protecting the ones she loves!!!

ARE YOU KIDDING ME WEI WUXIAN??? You don't remember her???

You better remember my wife!!!

Aaand another freeze frame. But I'm willing to forgive it because THIS EPISODE WAS SO GODDAMN BRILLIANT!

It made me realise why I was so drawn to lan Wangji as a character. Of course he is mu favourite character! He ticks every single box

Let me explain. My favourite characters almost always share the following characteristics: seems either cold and distant or ethereal and aloof, as if they are above such puny human things like feelings™️(bonus if they're actually not human and their argument is "I'm [insert species]. We can't feel [insert emotion they are definetly feeling very strongly]"). then, over the course of the story, we (along with they themselves because they were in denial) discover that it's not that they feel too little, they feel entirely too much. They're a sea of emotions so deep that the surface is calm, but don't you dare be near them when the storm is coming because all hell will break loose. (extra bonus point if that storm involves them rebelling against the oppressive society they were born into and adhered to until then because they realise their consciousness won't allow it any longer.) afterwards they realise that making themselves vulnerable once in a while is actually a good thing and they proceed to fuck the Rebel™️ who they've secretly been in love with the entire time, a feeling they only now allow themselves to act on

The last part sadly isn't always canon, but who has ever had time for that?

You know what this episode made me realise most of all? The Lan sect are just as human as the rest of them. In fact, they seem to be especially prone to acting rashly on strong emotions. (I don't remember the exact story, but didn't the founder of the Lan sect also have some kind of tragic love story?) It should be obvious, but the impression you get is that they are so detached from their wants, so rigorous and disciplined in their righteousness, that they are almost super-human. But no. Thise 3000 and some rules? They weren't born out of some enlightened mind that had the secret of live figures out, they're a crutch. Abiding by them without question rids one of responsibility to make even the tiniest moral choice for oneself. But that won't work because a) they're bounty to contradict each other at some point and b) that's not how human beings work. They're messy and unpredictable and beautifully complicated. The way Lan Qiren choses to apply them, he completely disregards that. At that point, the rules aren't there anymore to grant a harmonious society, but simply for their own sake. (Or maybe as a wall to hide behind)

@sweetlittlevampire @fandom-glazed @elenirlachlagos @allhailthedramallama @luckymoony @kyrrahbird @i-love-him-on-purpose

I think this liveblog has been the longest so far. I'm sorry for going on so many tangents, but lwj's backstory hit me really hard. I hope you guys weren't too bored 💚

(I also apologise for the mountains of typos that probably accumulated in this post. I'm too tired to check.)

[shawnpetermuffins]

I Miss You

A/n: I hope this is good because I put this off for so long wanting to do it justice. And this is based very loosely off I Miss you.

Summary: you two broke up recently, and it's not sitting well with Shawn, even though he's the reason you broke up.

Requested by @it-isnt-in-myy-blood: Hi, I recently listened to the song 'I Miss you' (Clean Bandit, Julia Michaels). Maybe you could write a fic based on the song, angsty but with a fluff ending? Thank you... ❤️

***

Kinda_yourname

2,158 likes

Kinda_yourname Cabo sunsets >>>> anything else

•

It may have only been a week, but I'm missing it here! 😭

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I shut my phone off and toss it to the end of the bed. I should have been with her on that trip, but tour got in the way. I got in the way. It's crazy to think that if you asked me three weeks ago, I would have said that my girlfriend and I could overcome any obstacle thrown at us. But ask me again a week later, and I would tell you I was wrong. That being away from her for months at a time was too much for me and I broke it off because I thought it would be what was best for both of us in the end.

Now ask me if I still believe that.

I don't.

I haven't told anyone about us yet. I mean, everyone probably suspects because there haven't been Amy preshow FaceTime calls for good luck, and I'm not texting like a madman during dinner or when we're on our way to the venues. And I know she hasn't said anything to anyone either. How? Because for one, she hasn't blocked me on any social media - I know, I've checked at least ten times just within the last two hours. And two, she hasn't deleted the three pictures of us that she has on her Instagram. They're still there for everyone to see, me included.

Now my fingers are hovering over the keyboard and I'm staring at her name on my phone which is still My Love 😍, and I'll probably never change it. Because she is my love, and to strip her of that title because I'm an idiot just isn't fair.

Hey... I miss you

I type and backspace and type and backspace at least ten times. Because I want to text her. I want so badly to text her, but what if she doesn't want to hear from me? I wouldn't blame her if she didn't want to. I was the worst. Breaking up with her over the phone, no less because I was hurting being away from her. Never once did it occur to me that, yeah, she was hurting too. Or maybe she's with someone else. Maybe she's found somebody new. I want her happy, sure. But I selfishly still want to be the one that makes her happy.

Y/n I miss you.

I delete it one last time and open my photo gallery. I have an album saved for photos of us. Photos that I never got to post because she wanted to keep us as private as possible without being a secret. Which is why both of us only have 3 photos of each other on our Instagram. One for our six months, a year, and a year and a half. Two more months and we would have had a fourth picture.

I'm swiping through the photos landing on one I took of her when we were flying back to Canada after our first trip together. We're on a private jet because this was before we went public with our relationship. Andrew made sure that we weren't seen together in the airport or anything. She's sitting in the seat across the aisle from me, legs up to her chest, earphones in, head resting on her knees as she smiles brightly at me. There's another one of us curled up together on this tiny chair in a green room in the UK that Andrew sent me. She's literally curled into a ball on my lap, sleeping peacefully and my legs are spread in front of me, arms wrapped tightly around her body, head resting against the back of the seat.

The next one Brian took. We were at my place for a very impromptu new years party. It was just gonna be me and y/n, but she insisted we invite the guys over. And we did. It was one of the best nights of my life. We're watching the ball drop, with her in my lap, arm around my shoulder. I have one arm behind her back, the other on her thigh. I think Brian knew something was going to happen because at ten seconds to midnight he pulled his phone out and captured out first new years kiss. She's holding my face and I'm practically leaning her back against the couch. It looks like I'm seconds away from crawling on top of her, and it be honest, I probably was. She's just too perfect for me to resist.

Then there's one that Josiah took of us just a few months ago at the studio house. I had y/n on the kitchen counter, she was in these jean shorts that I loved her in and a button up that she'd stolen from my suitcase. Not that I was complaining. It looked far better on her than it did on me. I stood between her legs, my hands on her sides, slipping under the shirt a little bit, leaning her hips exposed. Not that either of u cared with her fingers threaded in my hair as casually as they were. My face is blocked by her figure, but there isn't a doubt in my mind that I was smiling entirely too wide standing between her legs.

The video that follows knocks the breath out of me. She giggling like crazy, but the camera isn't on her, it's on me. On my back, more specifically. She laughs even more when I wince at the feel of her fingers on my red, raw skin that is now home of her fingernail scratches.

"Baby? What happened to your back?" She asked, amused.

"Don't know," I said, turning to face her, my cheeks still holding a slight blush. "But I think the real question is, what happened to your neck, missy?" I pluck the phone from her hands and turn the camera to her where she's trying to cover her face. I manage, however, to take her hands in my free one and the camera focuses on the flourishing bruises that litter her beautiful neck, my favorite place to rest my head.

I close my eyes, the memory of that night filling my mind. Watching her come down from her high, my face still buried between her legs. The weight and cold touch of her hands as she pulled me up to her, into her, because she needed me closer. I can hear myself murmuring the words 'I love you' all over her skin, still remember the way her back arched when I hit the right spot again and again and her finger ran down my back over and over, once more and she probably would have drawn blood. And I may not be home, but I can smell her on the sheets, that constant aroma of warm vanilla penetrating my nostrils. God, do I miss her.

I'm only making it worse for myself by doing this, I know that. But I should feel bad. I lost the greatest thing in my life and I didn't need to. So I got back to our messages, but instead of going to type a new one, I scroll through, reading through our old texts. There's countless paragraphs of us professing our love for each other. Lots of random pictures sent, most from my side. There's conversations about getting a home together, and a dog. And her telling me how much she loves my family and me telling her how much they love her, how much they ask about her. It's all hitting me too hard right now.

And it doesn't help that im literally sobbing at 2 in the morning, in Paris. The city of love. The place she told me was her favorite trip to ever take with me. Where we stood atop the eiffle tower and I gave her a promise ring, a ring that said I would love her and keep her forever. A promise ring that was now probably in the ocean in Cabo because I tore us apart so easily.

I sit up suddenly, struggling to catch my breath. It takes a few minutes, but I'm able to pull myself out of this empty bed that would only be comfortable with y/n laying next to me. I'm scrambling through the room, picking up the pair of jeans I threw off my body earlier and slipping back into them. I find a torn work out shirt in the bottom of my back and push my head and arms through before throwing my youth hoodie over my already overheated upper body. My passport is sitting in my guitar case, and I grab both things without a second thought. My suitcase trailing behind me.

It's difficult booking a flight and carrying a suitcase and guitar all at once, but I get along just well enough and adjust myself in the lobby while I wait for a taxi. I don't text Andrew until I've made it to the airport and am in my seat on the plane, ready for take off.

Emergency... had to fly home. Promise to make it back in time for the Paris show.

And I turn my phone off before he can text or call me back. Because there isn't a damn thing that he could say that would keep me there in a city that's meant for lovers, when my lover is across the world instead of laying in my arms the way she should be.

I know I shouldn't be doing this. I know there is someone out there who is better for her. Someone who isn't constantly on the move. Someone who can come home to her every night and help her make dinner. Someone who can cuddle her until she falls asleep when she's having a particularly bad day. I know there's someone who can do those things.

But I also know that he won't love her the way I do. He won't know all the little things that I do. Like how she only uses a blue toothbrush. Always has. And he won't notice the tiny scar that she has on her right middle finger from when we tried to make dinner together one night and she cut herself. He probably won't know that she wakes up at 3:34 every single night, because she hasn't been able to sleep fully and soundly through the night since she was four years old. And he'll mess up the way she likes her tea, using tea bags instead of leaves. (She like the herbal taste that you get when you use the leaves. And she likes when you do two scoops of them, and two scoops of sugar, but just cane sugar, the rock sugar makes it too earthy. And of course, she drinks it on ice because she hates burning her tongue with hot drinks.)

I'm thinking way too much as I get off the plane, reluctantly turning my phone back on only to see texts from just about everyone I know. They're all asking where I am, but I ignore them, because what I'm about to do is far more important than anything they threaten me with. I have to make things right.

Standing in front of this door that I've stood in front of hundreds of times should make me feel at ease. Remembering all the times I had her pressed against the other side of the door because I just couldn't wait to have her all to myself. But if anything, it's making me more nervous. So nervous that my hands are shaking, palms sweating, my breathing is jagged and I know if I don't knock right now I might never get the chance again and I can't lose her for real this time. So without giving myself the chance to rethink, I knock on the door three times and I wait, handing in the pocket of my hoodie.

I wait a solid thirty seconds, which feel like an eternity, before the door finally opens and I see my beautiful girl. Her face is bare, hair only halfway straightened, and she's in those shorts I love and my old Led Zepplin t-shirt.

"Shawn," my name still sounds like heaven spilling from her lips. "What are you doing here?" She crosses and then uncrosses her arms, shifting her weight from one leg to the other before standing completely straight.

I didn't even realize I was crying until I sniffled and heard my voice crack with just three words, "I miss you."

"Shawn," she shook her head.

"I tried not to," I insisted, still standing like a fool on her door step. "I swear I did. But I couldn't stop. I looked through all our pictures and texts, and I couldn't stop myself from missing you. And I know I have no right to because I broke things off. But I was in Paris and I was miserable because Paris was your favorite place, and that was where I promised to love you forever, and I'm still keeping that promise. I was an idiot," I continue to ramble. "If there's a better word for that, then I'm that too, because I thought it would be easier if I broke things off. This tour was going to be so long and to go that long without each other, I was scared that it wouldn't be enough for you. But it's not what I wanted, y/n. It's not, and I just-"

"Shawn, stop."

I shut my mouth instantly, ready for her to tell me to leave. But what she does instead throws me completely off guard. She pulls me into the apartment and wraps her arms around my neck, burying her head deep in my chest.

"I miss you, too." She mumbles and I exhale slowly, only to inhale that scent that I love so much. The scent that is naturally her. She starts to pull away, and even though I don't want her to, I let her but she only leans back enough to take my face in her hands and before I even have time to blink, her soft lips are on mine and I'm whole again.

She's mine again and I'm never letting her go.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @bbellbagel

This took me longer to write than it should have, but I kinda really like it. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you Wednesday for more content! 💙

Like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

[silveranchor]

Fire on Ice

Sorry for not updating but life's been wild...

Also, I haven't had time to watch much of S3 so I feel pretty bad about it. Working on this fic has been my saving grace to keep connected with the show. Please pray so I can catch up with episodes.

Thanks to @huffletiika and @from-red-string for helping out and a shoutout to @deliverychicafresa because I love her.

The SL figureskating!au no one wanted

May, off-season. 3 months till competition. Buenos Aires. Marissa Juliana Mint Skating Club

The hallway leading to the skating rink, right in front the main office, is lined with medals and pictures, a few trophies and diplomas here and there. Juliana can be spotted in most of the photographs, either smiling on the podium or looking proud beside one of her skaters.

Matteo's eyes are drawn immediately to one of the bigger pictures hanging above the medal case. Julianna looks young and impossibly bright, a Brazilian flag upon her shoulder and a big silver medal hanging on her neck, the Olympic rings visible behind her. That same medal lays directly below the framed picture. He brings his hand upon the protective glass, the closest he can get to touch it.

He's seen many medals in his life; he's had a lot of them placed upon him, but this one is different. There's something about Olympic medals being only awarded every 4 years that makes them special. He really wants one of his own.

"Bro, you've been staring at that medal for like 15 minutes. Want me to give you some privacy so you can make out with it?"

Matteo doesn't even have to turn to know Gastón is smirking and raising his eyebrows at him. His best friend is an idiot.

But he's his idiot, so he quickly leaves his suitcase on the floor and runs to embrace him.

Gastón holds him tight and pats his back enthusiastically. They haven't seen each other since the World Championships three months ago and Matteo missed him too much, not that he'll admit it out loud.

They let each other go, smiles still on their faces.

"How was the ice show in Japan?" Gastón asks.

Matteo moves to pick up his stuff. "It was fun. Got a lot of gifts from the fans. Flor sends greetings, by the way. She basically forced me to help with her exhibition skate."

"Ha! I would have paid to see that." Gastón sits on the floor and pats the spot beside him. "Was it Thriller?"

He obliges and sits. "Thriller. Zombie makeup and all. She owes me big time."

His friend snorts. "Gosh, I have to look for it online."

He's about to elbow him when Juliana steps out of her office, looking down at them with that no-nonsense expression she seems to have mastered. "Matteo,  welcome back. Come now so we can discuss what we're  gonna work on this season."

She opens her door, expecting him to go in and stares at Gastón. "Périda, your edges won't polish themselves. On the ice. Now."

Gastón hurries to his feet and yells "Yes, ma'am" behind him while he runs for his life in the direction of the rink.

Matteo can only chuckle under his breath and shake his head before catching Juliana's gaze and entering her office.

Once inside, she signals for him to take a seat while she does the same behind the desk.

"Well Matteo," she says with a sigh, "I liked your choreography and the music you chose. Very good insight using Sinatra for your short program and I especially like the step sequence. Your choreographer did an amazing job."

He can sense she's not finished. "But?"

She purses her lips before answering. "Your music choices and the choreography are great, Matteo, but I'm not convinced by your portrayal of them in the videos you sent me, mostly in your free skate. That's the main thing we need to work on right now. Luckily, we have enough time. It was very smart of you to select your music last season. Your choreographer also deserves credit for coming up with two full programs so fast. We have plenty of time to polish them for the Lombardia Trophy in September."

Matteo knows what she's talking about. He chose music from the "Life is Beautiful" movie soundtrack for his long program. The Italian movie is one he grew up watching and one of his mother's favorites. He has many memories of her playing the soundtrack while reading in the living room or playing some of the songs on the piano. It was watching the movie with her on the plane to a competition that he decided he should use the music for one of his programs. He'd spent most of his free time working with his music editor to make the perfect fusion of the songs. The final arrangement highlights the different moments of the movie perfectly: the comedy, the romance, the tragedy, the hopelessness, the heartbreak, the relief. His choreographer also did an amazing job, selecting the ideal moment for each element, creating a step sequence and a choreo sequence perfectly in tune with the music and the emotion he desires to portray. The problem is that, while he knows what he wants the audience to feel as he skates, he doesn't know how to achieve it.

This is probably his most emotionally charged program to date, he's never skated to something so meaningful or that he had such a strong connection to, but maybe that's the issue. He's never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve and he's not quite sure he can. Maybe he should have just stuck to his usual cocky and confident characters.

He doesn't know what his face must look like but, apparently, it betrays his thoughts, because Juliana's eyes soften as she rests her clasped hands on her desk.

"Matteo, this will only be my second season working with you, but I've followed your career for a long time. You are a great performer, but you need to learn to project your emotions into your skating."

He knows she's right, but he can't help his sneer. "Emotion won't get me +3s, improving my technique will."

His coach shoots him an unimpressed glare, already used to his attitude.

"I know you don't just skate for a number, you do it because you love it, because it means something to you. Same with this music, you chose it for a reason and you know it; you just need to make the audience know it too." She looks him in the eye and he tries not to squirm under her gaze. " Emotion is not weakness, Matteo, it is strength. You and I need to find a way to help you be comfortable baring your heart out on the ice. It might take a while, but thanks to your work, we have enough time to do that. This is Olympic season, meaning there will be more people than ever watching you skate. You need to make them remember you, and the only way you'll do that is if you give it your all."

Juliana is very strict and never takes any crap, but her worst quality is that she has a tendency to be right all the time. Matteo wants to hate her for it.

He can't though, she makes even that difficult.

He started skating as a little kid back when he still lived in Rome. His cousin, Flor, had dragged him along with her to classes, but he quickly learned to love it. Even when Flor moved away to France, he kept skating. His parents were proud of his dedication and supported him when he decided to start competing at 6 years old. It was when he started his junior career that the problems started. His diplomat father viewed his wish to make a life out of the sport as a stupid fancy. When they moved to Madrid for his dad's job, his father thought he would leave skating for good at being cut out from his home rink and his coach.

No such luck. His mom found him a new coach and training rink in Spain, and he kept skating and doing great in competition. Same when they moved to France, and when they moved back to Spain. No matter how much his father disapproved of his decisions, his mom had found a way for him to keep following his passion. She was there in every competition she could, always supporting him. She was the one who contacted Juliana to be his coach last season when they moved to Buenos Aires.

Matteo has infamously worked with 4 different coaches before, but, even if reluctantly, he likes Juliana the best of all. As a skater coming from Latin America, she defied all odds by becoming one of the best in history. She paved the way for skaters from other overlooked countries to shine in the international circuit. She's a legend.

Secretly, he wants to be like her. He wants to inspire people, to show them that, no matter your circumstances, you can do anything if you fight hard enough for it.

If he wants to do that, he needs to do what she says.

It scares him to show so much vulnerability in front of other people, but if he really wants to hit the mark with his free skate, that's just what he needs.

For a moment, he thinks back to his mom, probably doing some work at home. Defying his father by showing so much support towards Matteo's skating career probably wasn't easy for her. His dad sometimes spent days without speaking to either of them after a competition. She never backed down, though. If she could be that brave, maybe he could too. Especially while skating to music she loves so much.

It takes most of his courage to hold Juliana's gaze when he answers. "You're right. I need more emotion in the program, and I'll get it... I promise."

A part of him is comforted by the reassuring smile his coach directs at him,  but the rest of him freezes... Because just how in hell he's gonna get it?

He really needs to figure that out.

**************

After a good workout at the adjacent gym, he puts on his skates and heads to the rink a few minutes early for his stroking session with Tamara, one of the coaches.

When he gets there, she's nowhere in sight. In fact, the ice is surprisingly free, except for a girl he doesn't recognize practicing spirals along the edge, one foot on the ice while she brings her other leg up behind her.

He studies her for a moment. Her edges aren't deep enough for his liking, but he can't find many faults beyond that. Her lines are smooth and her angles perfect as she smoothly glides upon the ice.

The turns between her sequence aren't the best, but her spirals themselves are definitely exemplary.

Before he can think twice about it, he's calling to her across the rink "Too bad Spiral Sequences are no longer compulsory!"

She whips her head back at him so fast she loses her balances and tumbles to the ice.

Concerned, he takes the guards off his blades as fast as he can and skates towards her.

She's quickly back on her feet, rubbing her left thigh as if it hurts. It probably does.

He can't help but feel a bit guilty, still, he smiles at her. "Are you okay? "

She prods at her leg with a finger. "Yeah, I think s-" That's the moment when she looks up at him "- huh... Yeah, I. Yep, fine"

She's staring at him wide-eyed, her face going red. His mind immediately registers that her eyes are probably the most striking shade of green he's ever seen, but he decides to file that information for further study another time and focus on the fact that she doesn't seem to be breathing.

"Are you sure you're okay? You don't look like it."

It's only when she covers her face that he realizes that was probably not the best choice of words. "Sorry, that's not what I meant. You're just redder than a tomato." Great, this appears to be a foot-in-mouth day for him.

The girl looks even more horrified as she tries and fails to get some stray hairs away from her face. "Don't worry. I'm fine, you just took me by surprise."

She looks around frantically as if trying to find a way out of this situation. He decides to have a little fun. Afterall, he already made her splat, what more harm can he cause?

He glides closer to her and she stumbles backwards a little. "Sorry to have distracted you. I'm Matteo, by the way."

The girls visibly swallows while her eyes dart to the hand he put on her arm to stop her from falling again. "I know... I mean-" She groans in frustration. "- I'm Luna."

He accepts the hand she reaches out in greeting; and if he holds it for a moment longer than what would be appropriate, who can blame him?

Most of the time, he doesn't really focus on the fact that, among fans and the skating community at least, he's an actual celebrity. Especially during ice shows and competitions with skaters who are more popular than he is, it becomes easy to forget. There is something really satisfying in having someone starstruck at meeting him for the first time, though. He'd be lying if he said he doesn't enjoy it.

"Well, Luna, those were some damn good spirals. Is that sequence for competition?"

She immediately brightens at his praise and he can't help but smile wider.

"I hope so. Maybe I’ll use it as part of the choreo sequence for my free skate this season."

"Nice. Are you new here? I don't remember seeing you before."

She nods. "I've been to some skating camps with Juliana,but this is my first season with her as my coach. She's helping me with my international senior debut."

He vaguely remembers Juliana mentioning a promising Mexican skater she planned on giving an scholarship to months ago. Given that there are very few skaters from that country in the field, especially with the kind of level he's just seen from her, his bet is that this girl is the one she was referring to.

"You can't be much younger than me. Why did you put off seniors for so long?" Matteo is genuinely curious, most female skaters advance to the senior field as soon as they're age eligible at fifteen or sixteen.

Luna looks down at that. "I only started skating when I was ten and I didn't have very good results at international competitions until two seasons ago." She bites her lip before continuing. "Plus, I can only continue skating because Juliana covers most of my costs. She was very generous in giving me a scholarship. She's gotten me some sponsors too."

Now Matteo feels like a jerk for asking. Sometimes he forgets how expensive the sport actually is. He's lucky his family is rich.

"Juliana must really believe in you."

Probably not his best line, because she looks worriedly up at him. "I'm really afraid that I don't deserve all her effort."

He freezes for a moment; mostly because he doesn't really know what to say, but also because he's in awe. How is she comfortable with saying this like that to someone she just met? Yes, she looks embarrassed about it, but she still said it. He would have never, he has never.

Thoughts about his problem with expressing his own emotions on the ice come to mind. He's suddenly sure that this girl has never had that issue. She seems to not be scared to appear weak. She just confessed her insecurities to him, for goodness’ sake! How does she do that? More importantly, how can he?

Mind still whirling, he tries his best. "If Juliana is doing all of this for you is because she knows you're worth it. You've probably seen just how critical she is, she wouldn't do any of this if she didn't see a bright future for you. She's many things, but she's not stupid, she doesn't fight for lost causes."

Half of his brain registers that Luna relaxes visibly at his words, the other half realizes that what he said applies to him too. If Juliana believes he can learn to show his emotions in his skating, it is because he can. If his coach truly thinks so, it's because she knows that he has the capacity to emote the hell out of that program.

A blaring alarm shakes him out of his thoughts and he watches as Luna skates towards the boards and picks up her phone.  "Oh, sorry! I have to go. I have some homework I have to send in an hour."

"Online school?"

"Yeah. Last year of it, luckily," she says with a chuckle.

He stands still on the ice as she skates out of the rink and holds onto the board to put the guards on her blades.

She looks back at him warmly when she's done. "Thank you. For what you said. I really needed that."

He blinks at her for a few seconds, trying to form words. "Well, you're welcome."

She looks as if she's about to turn away, but stops at the last second. "Did you really meant what you say? About my spirals, I mean." She doesn't meet his eyes as she asks it.

He snorts. "I did. You could definitely deepen your edges, especially in your turns,  but those spiral were pretty good."

She stares at him, expression blank, then shakes her head and chuckles. "Wow. That means a lot really. And thanks for the advice."

She looks down at her phone and swears under her breath. "Crap, I gotta go!" Luna picks up her bag and starts walking towards the exit, looking back only to quickly shout, "It was nice meeting you by the way! I'm a big fan of your Bond short program! Bye!"

He can only laugh at her receding form.

Tamara arrives a minute later, apologizing for being late. He just shrugs her apology off and strokes along with her.

Looking back to his conversation with Luna, he realizes that he was actually able to be himself around her. He said what he thought, what he felt, and didn't stop to analyze it twice. It felt refreshing, for once not having to hold back.

If he can replicate that while he skates, he's golden.

How he'll do it, he has no idea; maybe he was only able to be himself with Luna because some of her influence rubbed off on him.

If that's the case, he'll have to keep her close. He's not taking any chances.

[spellboundebook]

Author's Note: Please let me know what you think! I'm trying to world build and let you into the minds of the characters. Hope it's working! On with the show:

Theodora’s heels clicked on the ground as she walked to her first class for the week. She adjusted her jacket for the fifth time since she left home. Theo hated these damned uniforms. The only thing she could class up a bit was the skirt, which she rolled up to show off her long legs. The jackets had no shape and were bulky. The color purple was tired, and who in the galaxy wore ties anymore! The only thing she hated more was talking to her mother.

“Theodora you should have seen it, who he brought to the Brenidears’ wedding. The girl was like a disease. An eyesore on the whole ceremony,” her Mother, a woman who looked a lot like an older version of Theo, said as she did her nails on the screen of Theo’s mobile.

“Maybe he loves her, Mother. You can’t help who you fall in love with,” Theo said distractedly, pulling up her notes for class on the screen in a parallel tab. This task required little brain function and she could multitask. The notes, on the other hand, she hadn't looked at all weekend, and class was in fifteen minutes.

“Yes,” the older blue-haired woman said looking down her nose at the polish on her finger tips, “That's all well and good until she leaves him and takes half of his inheritance.” Her daughter didn't answer with a snide comment and that made her look up, “Theodora are you listening to me? What could you possibly be doing?”

“I'm studying my notes for class. I haven't—” Theo started.

“You know if it's too hard darling, you can come back home”, Theo rolled her eyes, “Your father had to let go some of the gardening staff the other day. The yard was looking rather dull.”

“Just like this conversation…” Theo said under her breath, but her mother heard it.

“Theodora, are you behaving yourself? We don't want any more of those...incidents. If you can’t control yourself, I will bring you out of that place —”

“Everything is fine mother. I have to go to class now, love you. Bye!” Theo hung up before her Mother could get another awful word in. Theo shoved the phone into her bag, also giving up on her literature notes. Who the hell cared about some dead alien Shakespeare, who died millions of years ago on some planet light years away?

Mona closed her notes as well, though with less frustration as she had studied for 3 hours the night before. She sat patiently for class to begin, as the other students mingled and laughed amongst their groups of friends. Two boys played catch with a fusion ball, throwing it about the classroom. The salmon colored one with long tentacle-like hair told the other with antlers to go long, and he threw it. The antlered boy caught the fusion ball, but not before he landed in Monaedi’s lap. They looked at each other mortified.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there…” the boy got up quickly, snorting when he looked at his friend who looked just as amused. Mona would have replied but caught a sight of blue hair in the corner of her eye. When she saw Theo, she could feel a wave of embarrassment from this past weekend creeping up from her subconscious, but she pushed it back down. Monaedi looked away. If she didn’t look she could pretend the whole thing didn’t exist, and then everything could go back to normal. But she couldn’t keep away for much longer. Mona’s eyes were like magnets that kept being drawn back to the girl. She settled with stealing glances at Theo as she came into the room. Maybe she won’t notice at me, she thought. And Monaedi got her wish, as Theo didn’t even seem to notice her. And Mona didn’t know why, but she was more than slightly disappointed by this.

Theo walked into the class looking irked with the whole Xili Planetary System. She did not want to be here; he was here. Theo noticed him before he did her, so she went to go find her seat without properly greeting him. The tentacle haired boy did eventually notice his girlfriend. His face went from cocky amusement to downcast with just a hint of fear. He walked up to the elfish girl. Theo didn’t acknowledge him, as she put her bag on the table and started taking out her things.

“Hey, Theo…” He said quietly standing next to her. He took a small step closer, then thought better of it. He waited for a response, but one never came. In almost a whisper he tried again, “I haven’t seen you since the other night. Where have you been?”

“Mal’qier, I’ve been in my room. The whole weekend. You would’ve known that if you bothered to come by,” Theo slammed the book on the tabletop, which made him flinch. He looked around the classroom; people were starting to stare.

“Please do not make a scene,” Mal’qier hissed through gritted teeth, “Your mother would disapprove.” He was right, her mother would disapprove of her acting out in public. But she didn’t care about that. She did care about a familiar surge of energy brewing inside her; that she needed to keep under control. She took a deep breath and then turned to stare him dead in the face.

“You want to tell my mother on me, again, go ahead if that makes you feel better. Undermine me, like you did the other night,” her words were quiet but biting. She stared into his eyes, and if looks could kill… Mal’qier looked down, she could recognize the anguish on his face, even if others couldn’t. Theo started to feel sorry for him.

“I am sorry,” he said, barely audible. She knew he was. And she knew why he acted the way he did. It was expected of him. And to him, and to their whole crowd, appearance was everything. She just wished he would go against the grain sometimes...Then again, she was still with him, and what did that say about her.

“I know,” she said. Her voice softening. But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t still pissed, “I’m still mad at you though.”

“I totally understand!” he said, but as things would be alright he brightened a bit, “I got you something.” He took something out of his pocket and then unfolded his hands. In his palms lay a phoenix flower. The little crystal bud bloomed in front of her eyes into a full grown flower. It had translucent petals tinted with beautiful colors that reflected along the walls of the classroom. it was the most beautiful thing Theodora, and anyone in the classroom ,had ever seen. She couldn’t help it. Theo kissed him pushing into his arms. It would have almost knocked him over, but he was strong enough to catch her.

The class hooted and hollered, at the two. Monaedi watched with the others but stayed silent. She felt heat rise into her face as the corner of her lips dipped into a slight frown. Someone cleared their throat over the commotion and everyone turned to see their reptilian teacher, Professor Thana, standing at the front of the class.

“Ms. Theodora, Mr. Mal’qier could you please sit down,” the professor said looking down her rimmed glasses. She used a scaly, yet old hand to adjust them on her face.

“Sorry professor, but who could resist,” she says gesturing toward Mal’qier. That gets some laughs and entertained gasps out of the class.

“Who indeed,” the reptile replied sarcastically rolling her eyes, getting a few chuckles of her own. While she prepared the board, Theo and Mal’quier sat down. As Theo did she caught Mona’s eyes. It wasn’t more than second, but Mona’s dark eyes shattered the facade and left Theo vulnerable like she never felt before. After a moment Monaedi turned back to face the board and Theo followed suit.

“Let us begin. We will continue with Twelfth Night, beginning with the Fool’s line: ‘Present mirth hath present laughter;  What’s to come is still unsure:  In delay there lies no plenty,— Then come kiss me, Sweet-and-twenty’. What do you think Master William meant by this verse,” she asked the class. They stayed silent, “Anyone?” Monaedi wrote down ‘Live in the moment’ in the margins of the text. She glanced around, no one looked willing to answer. I'll give it three seconds ,if no one raises their hand, I will. 1...2...—”

“How about you Miss Theodora, since you're so full of kisses today,” Professor Thana asked.

“I haven't the faintest idea Professor,” she said slightly annoyed, but more nervous than anything. She really should have looked at her notes.

“It's plain as day, right here in your text. Break it down line by line. We will wait.”

“He’s saying...we are only really given the moment that we are in right now...so his love shouldn’t wait to kiss him back. It sounds like a make the most of it type thing?” she finally got it all out. Professor Thana gazed at Theo for a second, a wisp of a smile on her lips.  

“Very good. Now...” their professor continues the lesson. Theo let out a small breath she didn’t know she was holding. A small smiled crossed her face, she did it. She glanced around, but no one seemed to care so she settled back into her seat looking forward. Her sight lands in front of her on the back of Monaedi’s head where it stayed for the rest of the lecture.

At the end of class Theo told her boyfriend she would meet up with him later, and when he left she walked up to Mona who was packing her things away.

“Mona!” Theo greeted her, with as much cheer she could muster up.

“..Oh, hi Theodora...,” she says pushing her glasses back up her nose. Her eyes not really reaching Theo’s green ones.

“How are you? You kind of left suddenly.”

“...Yeah, sorry about that...”

“It's fine,” Theo waved her off. She looked around and saw other students looking towards the two of them; they eyed the two girls suspiciously. Theo paused to let the other exit the classroom, leaving her and Mona alone. She cleared her throat.

“So about the other night..um..I just wanted to make sure... You're not going to tell anyone are you?” Monaedi blinked at her. Not knowing which part she was referring to. The incident with the boys, or what she did to them, or how she did it. No other response came so Theo continued, “Do you like chufu? I know a nice restaurant—I can take you out—”

To be continued...