#i spent two whole days on an art piece and got 12 notes

[petalsandpenink]

peak Tumblr artist culture is getting a like notification and rUSHING over to see what art it's for, only for it to be on some shitpost you reblogged three years ago

[dysfunctionalcrab]

babysitter

pairing: georgenotfound x reader

pronouns: gender neutral

description: george is left to babysit your niece

warnings: mentions of a future family? just in case that makes you uncomfortable.

[y/n/n] - your nieces name

[y/s/n] - your siblings name (gender neutral too)

note: i’m not too sure about this imagine, please a like or reply if you actually enjoyed! - niss

you woke up to the sound of your alarm blasting your ear off, if you hadn’t turned it off right there you probably would have gone deaf.

george was sleeping like a baby beside you, you could hear his quiet snores. you were surprised he didn’t wake up to the sound of your ear-piercing alarm.

turning on your phone, you glanced at the time that read 12:30. you sighed in annoyance as you registered that you only had half an hour before you had to be on your way to university. so you got up and began your normal morning routine, brush your teeth, shower, have breakfast and finally get dressed. however, as you were packing your bag, almost ready to go, you received a notification from your [sibling]

[y/s/n]: we’re 5 minutes away!!!

[y/s/n]: thank you so much for agreeing to do this :)

fuck.

it completely slipped your mind. you had promised to take care of [y/n/n] for today, your 7 year old niece, while your [sibling] was at their job interview. regardless, you texted them a quick ‘no problem’ before rushing upstairs to wake up george.

he was still sleeping, but now he was completely hiding under the covers with one arm sticking out. you hated to interrupt his beauty sleep but this was more important. you began to shake him awake.

“babe,” you shook him

“wake up,”

“george,” you removed the covers off his face

“wake the fuck up!” you started poking his sides. usually, you would be a little less... harsh, but you were panicking.

finally the boy rose from his slumber, groaning and stretching all his limbs. he blinked a couple times before meeting your eyes

“good morning,” he said softly, as if he completely just disregarded your tone of desperation and worry.

you pulled him by his arm and he sat upright,

“you need to get up right now,” you told him

“what’s going on?” he questioned, clearly confused as you weren’t giving him any context

“you need to take care of [y/n/n] for today, i have classes today, and i need to leave in 5 minutes and [y/s/n] has a job interview and there’s nobody else to take care of her,” you rushed out all in once sentence.

“are you serious?” he narrowed his eyes at you. “you know how bad i am with kids, especially [y/n/n] , she hates me,”

that was partly true. unfortunately, your niece wasn’t exactly fond of george. ever since you even started dating,m, [y/n/n] acted cold towards your boyfriend, it only got worse when you moved in with him. she always refused to play a game if george was going to participate, or never accepted any high fives or hellos from him. you felt sympathy for george. this child despised him and now you were asking him to look after her.

“please, i’m begging you,” you looked at him with pleading eyes. his eyes softened up after recognising the urgency of the situation.

“fine,” he agreed. you sighed out of satisfaction that you didn’t have to stress out [y/s/n] over finding a new baby sitter.

“thank you so much,” you pressed a small kiss to his lips appreciatively.

right at that moment, you two heard the doorbell ring. you urged george to get ready as fast as he could while you went down stairs and greeted your [sibling] and your niece.

“auntie/uncle [y/n]!” [y/n/n] yelled as you opened the door, immediately rushing into your arms. she looked a lot taller than the last time you saw her

“how’s my favourite girl?” you picked her up and swung her, before placing a little kiss on her head

you gave your [sibling] a quick hug. they handed you a bag full of toys, teddies and colouring pens, along with a spare set of clothing just in case [y/n/n] got a little messy throughout the day. and some quick reminders about her favourite foods or how to get her stop crying. you’d looked after her before, so all of it was pretty familiar to you

“again, thank you so, so much, you have no idea how much you’re helping me.” they told you. your [sibling] gave [y/n/n] a kiss on the cheek and told her to be a ‘good and kind little girl’ before finally exiting the household.

george, at last, made his way down. wearing a decent pair of jeans and a hoodie, giving an awkward wave to [y/n/n]

you checked the time and knew you had to get going. you had to explain to her that uncle george was going to be the one looking after her today. and after one whole tantrum, you managed to convince her to be a good girl by promising to give her a big reward afterward.

finally, you kissed [y/n/n] and george a goodbye , then shut the front door behind you.

george and [y/n/n] stood opposite each other. there was an uncomfortable silence in the air. george felt so...he didn’t even know. what do you say to a child who hates you? [y/n/n] tightly clutched her bag of toys.

“so, [y/n/n],” george cleared his throat, he bent down to her level. “i hear you like toy story?”

[y/n/n] pouted “i don’t like you” she said, and stomped away.

george sighed. this was going to be a long day.

and it was.

-

it started off with [y/n/n] innocently using her colouring pens and drawing random things, you know, as children do. but when she ran out of paper, she made her way to your office, where all your uni work was. she grabbed the closest piece of paper that was sitting on your desk, deciding it was going to be the next canvas for her art. this paper just happened to be a very important assignment.

when george caught her in the act, he had to physically tear her away from your office, in defiance of all her kicking and screaming.

-

then, when george accidently left the door to your shared bedroom open. [y/n/n] waddled in without him noticing, she started playing with all of his devices. his computer, his microphone, and somehow she got a hold of his headphones, and took out the battery. george didn’t realise until he noticed the cover missing. he tried to ask her nicely where she threw the battery. but she insisted that she wasn’t going to give it back unless he stopped being ‘mean’

-

when lunch time rolled around, george put a pizza in the oven, he remembered clearly that [y/n/n] loved pizza, specifically pepperoni. nothing could go wrong here.

but when he called her to the kitchen so she could receive her lunch. she just stared blankly at the pizza, and then at him. she crossed her arms

“[y/n] usually makes a smiley face with the pepperoni”

george just felt all his will to live just disappear

-

coloured pens and toys were spread out all across the living room floor, [y/n/n] was sitting in front of the tv, george put on one of her favourite shows which thankfully distracted her for a bit, allowing him to relax. he pulled out his phone and texted you

to [y/n] <3 : help me please

to [y/n] <3: i cant take this anymore, i’m literally dying rn

to [y/n] <3: come home quick

he exhaled heavily, throwing his phone to the side. he was so exhausted.

[y/n/n] was roleplaying with her toys, making them move around and doing squeaky little voices. george smiled at the innocence

“purple bear doesn’t play with us anymore. princess giraffe, mr. george took her away from us,” she spoke in a high pitched voice

george’s ears perked up. how funny that she had a teddy named ‘mr. george’. curiously, he watched the little girl.

“koala george, is a meanie, he stole purple bear and now they don’t want to hang out with us!”

it didn’t take a genius to find out what [y/n/n] was displaying through her role playing teddies.

that was why she didn’t like george. before they got together, [y/n] mentioned they almost spent every weekend with [y/n/n], playing with her and having fun with her.

she felt abandoned by [y/n] and felt as if george had taken them away from her .

george felt at fault as he noticed the girls eyes started to water.

“does purple bear love us any more?” she continued to play.

george decided it was enough and he switched off the television. he joined [y/n/n] on the floor and grabbed the teddy that was supposedly ‘koala george’

“[y/n/n]” he spoke softly. the little girl looked up at him expectantly. he held up the teddy.

“is this supposed to be me?” he questioned her.

“that’s a koala bear,” she answered

“no-, [y/n/n],” he said. he thought about how to ask her, and just chose it was best to be flat out with the child,”

“did i steal auntie/uncle [y/n] away from you?”

the question took her by surprise. she gazed at him with big wide eyes. she thought about her answer and grabbed the purple bear, which was supposed to be you.

“they don’t play with me as much anymore, they’re always with you, because of you, they don’t love me anymore,” she pulled a face, it wasn’t angry, it wasn’t annoyed.

it was a genuinely sad face.

george was sure he physically felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. he never even comprehended the fact that a child could feel so rejected.

“listen... [y/n/n],” he said gently. he thought about his words. comforting someone wasn’t exactly his strongest point, particularly not a child who detested him “[y/n] will never stop loving you, okay? they love you very much, and i’m sorry you feel like i stole them ”

[y/n/n] continued to listen.

“but don’t forget that [y/n] has so much love to go around! look, they love you, and they love me, they love grandma and grandpa too! they will always love one another even if they can’t see each other often,”

[y/n/n] stayed silent. she fiddled with the purple teddy, folding its ears and patting its head. she loved that bear. it was actually gifted to her by you, when she was first born. she brought it to her chest and hugged it. george tried a different approach.

“listen, how about- this weekend, we can all go to the park together, and have a picnic. you, me, [y/n], and your parents too,”

she continued to just stay silent. george didn’t know what to expect, she was unpredictable, was she going to throw another hissy fit? or start to cry? he wasn’t sure

“can we also get ice cream?” she asked

george smiled and felt himself relax. thank god. “all the ice cream you want,” he told her

[y/n/n] stood up and giggled. like her whole entire mood did a whole fucking 180. “okay! let’s go play dress up now!”

———

7:45 pm. you finally arrived home. you were tired out of your mind. [y/s/n]’s interview was delayed by two hours and was currently half way back home, meaning you had enough time to spend with [y/n/n]

you unlocked the door, expecting to see a giant tsunami of toys and colouring pencils and pens, but what you saw was the most heart warming thing ever.

george was sleeping on the couch, his head resting on the armrest. he had a couple pink bows in his hair, his lips were painted a hot pink, he was wearing a couple sparky bracelets and a purple floral necklace.

in his lap, [y/n/n] rested her head, she was wearing a fairy costume with matching pink bows and sparkly bracelets.

you quickly snapped a photo of this wholesome moment. because, who wouldn’t? you spent a few minutes just watching the two sleep, they were probably just as tired as you.

moments like these made you really appreciate the people you had in your life. the people you love so dearly much.

you didn’t want to disrupt the ambience but you felt it was better for your [sibling] to collect your niece when she wasn’t covered in glitter and an overload of pink accessories.

you quietly woke george up,

“baby, wake up.” you shook him awake, gently. in a very different way than you did this morning. he opened his eyes. and immediately smiled upon seeing your face. you ran your thumb across his cheek

“it looks like you two had a lot of fun,” you teased.

he quietly chuckled. “she’s okay,” he told you. looking down at the little girl sleeping in his lap.

you slowly and carefully picked her up, removing any accessories you thought may seem uncomfortable to sleep in. she was a heavy sleeper.

you carried her upstairs, tucking her into you and george’s bed and placing a kiss upon her forehead. you turned back to george and rushed in for a bear hug

“thank you so much for doing that,” you said. “i love you so much, i know it probably wasn’t easy, she can be quite the handful,”

george chuckled. “handful is an understatement,”

“you’d better be willing to dress up like that with our own kids one day.” you stated, hugging him tighter.

his face broke out into a small smile, having thought of an image of you two playing with you future kids. he kissed top of your head and then your nose

“maybe one day”

———

masterlist

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

SFW Alphabet | Ryohei Arisu

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character: Ryohei Alice

Genre: fluff

Author’s Note: I’m trying to write a lot of AiB x reader content because there’s not a lot of it on tumblr and I’m sure you guys want more. The only thing is I want it to be well-written and not rushed so it’s actually enjoyable to read, so I’m so sorry if some take longer than expected! 😓 Please request something if you want to! 

*This based in the real world, not in the Borderland

A - Affection

(How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Alice would be rather shy with physical affection I feel

If he’s new into a relationship, he would probably ask before making any sort of physical contact with you

He respects boundaries like a true gentleman

As the relationship progresses, he would become more confident in his actions, showing his love for you more often

He wouldn’t be overly affectionate or unaffectionate, just somewhere in the middle

I think he would enjoy just quality time with you more than constantly feeling the need to touch you

B - Best Friend

(What would they be like as a best friend?)

Alice as a best friend would be so much fun

He seems like such a laid back and chill person, being open-minded and nonjudgmental

You and him would probably play video-games together all the time, being incredibly competitive and bantering the whole time

You and him would go out late at night just to go get food together and play games at a local arcade

There wouldn’t be a day when you’re not together, sticking by each others sides through thick and thin

You would probably have friendly arguments every time you are together, teasing and mocking each other in a harmless matter

As a group of four, Alice, Chota, Karube and you would be like peas in a pod

C - Cuddles

(Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Alice would adore cuddles, but would be so shy to ask for them

You would have to be the one to initiate a cuddling session, probably by sitting on his lap, taking him by surprise

He would probably rest his head on your shoulder while you were on a long train or bus ride together, eventually falling asleep next to you

If you and him were cuddling on the couch, Alice wouldn’t let you leave

“Alice. I need to pee, let me go.” “But I just got comfy!”

He’d act offended when you eventually escape the cage that is his limbs

His favourite cuddling position would be him lying on his back while you’re spread out on top of him, head resting on his chest

He likes this position because he can kiss the top of your hair and stay warm underneath your body

D - Domestic

(Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

It would take a few years of dating for Alice and you to move in together

He loves the fantasy of a teen love situation where you two would sneak out together and go on late night dates

He would be afraid that when you move in together eventually, you would lose that thrill between you too

But after giving in and buying an apartment with you, he wouldn’t regret it at all

In a living situation, Alice would try to help you around the house as much as possible

You would have different chores assigned to each of you, making it fair

I feel like he wouldn’t be able to cook, like at all

Better he sticks to cleaning and laundry whilst you handle cooking meals for both of you

E - Ending

(If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If you were to break it off with him, it would honestly break him

But of course, he would hate to show that it gets to him, his sadness would come out in anger

He would overthink for weeks, wondering where he went wrong

Would probably get drunk at some bars a few nights and drunk text you, saying how much he misses you

If he was to break it off with you, he would feel incredibly guilty

Even if he had wanted to do it for a while, he would feel so bad after seeing tears running down your face

He would probably cry too and would have to fight the urge to scoop you into his arms and hold you as you cry

F - Fiancé(e)

(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Wouldn’t want to rush into things, preferring to take things slow

He likes to live in the moment without worrying about the past or future

I think having someone who would want to get married quickly would scare him off

Don’t get me wrong, he would be completely committed to you, it would just take time for him to get to that point

Never has the biggest urge to get married, honestly doesn’t see it as incredibly important

He would want to get married later in his life, as long as it’s with the right person

G - Gentle

(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He is such a gentlemen, no one can convince me otherwise

He would be so gentle with you, treating you like a piece of art

Wouldn’t even grab your arm or try to cheekily jump-scare you, in fear that he would accidentally hurt you

If you guys were having a heated moment, he would hesitate before placing his hands on you

You would have to tell him that it’s okay and place his hands on you yourself

Emotionally, he would try his absolute best to understand you

Although he would be a bit awkward when it comes to deep emotions, he would be so cautious in his words and actions when you’re in a emotionally vulnerable situation

So considerate and gentle, never wanting to make you uncomfortable in any way

H - Hugs

(Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He would honestly give the best hugs

I think he would prefer hugs over kisses, because he loves the close feeling of having you snuggled up against him

He would always do the running hug every time he met up with you, always having the same level of excitement from seeing your face

He would also love walking down the street with your arms around each other

The small simple gesture makes him so comforted and warm inside

I - I Love You

(How fast do they say the L-word?)

Would be so shy to say it

He would probably say it when he thinks your asleep, whispering it into your ear while brushing your hair out of your face

When you open your eyes and respond, he looks like he’s seen a ghost

“What did you say Alice?” “Uh... nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

He would roll his body to face the other way, trying to fall asleep

You would lean over his shoulder and say you love him too while he’s just about to fall unconscious

He would snap awake, looking up at you in surprise with his wide eyes

You’d spend the night tucked so close to each other then, giving each other sweet kisses and shy compliments

J - Jealousy

(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I actually can see him getting jealous very easily

Like even if you hung out with one of your male best friends, Alice would ask everything about the guy

It would come from a good place though, he would be scared of you finding someone better than him

When he gets jealous, he would become really quiet and passive aggressive

Would never admit that he’s jealous, no matter how hard you try to get him to confess

But it would be pretty easy to tell, even your friends would notice

If you were out together with Karube and Chota, Alice would feel a bit upset if you spent most of the time talking to one of them instead of him

When this happens, he’ll wrap an arm around your waist and press you to his side, just to remind you he’s there as well

K- Kisses

(What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He would have random clingy moments where he would beg you for endless kisses

He would purse his lips and close his eyes playfully waiting for you kiss him

It would always make him blush, no matter how long you’ve been together

His favourite place to kiss you would be your nose

He loves the way your face scrunches up when he does it, always making him fall just a little bit more in love

His favourite place to be kissed would simply be his lips

He loves the intimacy of it and would love it when you surprise him with a sudden kiss to his lips

L - Little Ones

(How are they around children?)

Would actually really like kids

I feel like he would like babies more than toddlers though

He would find them so adorable, but the thought of babysitting or having a kid of his own makes him nervous

He would like them, but wouldn’t be able to look after them well

If you two had to babysit for a family member, I think he’d really enjoy watching you interacting with the kid

If in the future you two had children of your own, he would want to wait quite a while, probably until after marriage if you planned to get married

M - Morning

(How are mornings spent with them?)

You both would always wake up late, no matter the day

Would probably be from playing video-games together all night or just staying awake for hours and talking / cuddling

If he woke up before you, he would tuck you under the covers again if they fell during the night and leave the room, wanting to leave you sleeping peacefully

But some mornings if he wants you to wake up with him, he would lay his entire body across you and whine for you to wake up

“Y/N... babyyy-” “What?” “Wake up, I’m bored.” “No.” “pLeAsE!”

He would be impossible to wake up though

You could throw stuff at him, yell in his ears, jump on top of him, but he would not open his eyes

It’s like as if someone knocked him out

You would have to resort to dragging him off the bed by his legs

N - Night

(How are nights spent with them?)

You would always go to sleep late, there was never a night where you would go to sleep before 12:00am

Even if you fell asleep, Alice would wake you up again because he would want to spend more time with you

You would talk and play video-games together until you either passed out on the bed on top of each other

If you fell asleep on the couch, Alice and you would be complaining the whole day tomorrow about your back pains

Sometimes, but very rarely, you would have deep conversations, then afterwards fall asleep with your limbs wrapped around each other tightly

O - Open

(When would they start revealing things about themselves?)

It would take time for him to open up

I feel like with Alice you’d have to earn his trust, he doesn’t just give it out for free

He would rarely talk about his feelings on a deep level

Even after years of being together, he’d still be a bit reserved

It wouldn’t be personal, I just think Alice would prefer to keep his strong emotions inside

Although, if something really got to him, he would probably break his walls a bit

He would hold things inside until they got too hard to handle

He’d have a big cry with you comforting him, then be fine again

It would mean the world to him if you sat and listened to him for hours and valued his emotions

P - Patience

(How easily angered are they?)

Honestly, quite easily

Depends really what it’s about

Fights between you too wouldn’t happen often, but he would get in bad moods a few times a week

He gets quite frustrated with minor things though, like if his phone or computer wasn’t working properly

He’d get over it really quick though

If he was to become mad at you, he would tell you straight up why he’s upset

He would despise it if you walked away and didn’t face the issue

When he’s really upset, he may say things that he doesn’t really mean in the heat of the moment

But he would always apologize after he’s calmed down, giving hugs and kisses for the rest of the day endlessly

Q - Quizzes

(How much would they remember about their partner?)

I feel like he’d actually be kind of bad at this

He would keep a few common things memorized, like your favourite movie or place

But sometimes he would forget minor things

He would feel awful about it though

It’s not that he doesn’t care enough, he just has a bad memory

After a while, he would begin to keep notes in his phone about things you like so he has ideas for birthday presents and anniversary gifts

Always has the best intentions, he’s just a little slow

R - Remember

(What is their favourite moment in their relationship?)

His most favourite moment would be a date you guys went on together during the first few months of dating

He had come over to your house and invited you to go for a walk with him around town

After buying late night takeaway snacks at a restaurant, he brought you to a quiet building and climbed the stairs all the way to the top

You two sat there for hours, eating your food and laughing until you couldn’t breath while looking out over the city’s fluorescent lights

He loved this night with you especially, because he thinks you looked gorgeous with the city lights dancing across your skin

I think this was the night he realized that he was in love with you, watching you smile and laugh with hearts in his eyes

S - Security

(How protective are they of their partner? How would they protect their partner? How would they like to be protected?)

Would try to hide it, but he would secretly be so cautious about your safety

He’s knows that he’s not the strongest or fittest person, but he still tries his best to make you feel safe

When you’re out in public at night, he always has his arm around your shoulder or your waist, just to make sure you stay close to him

If someone you didn’t know approached you and was acting a little too friendly, Alice would glare at them over your shoulder and distract you

If someone was to say something rude or offensive towards you, oh no

Alice would go OFF

He would swear and yell at them before you even get the chance to defend yourself

There would be times where you would have to physically drag him away because you were afraid he would throw a punch

T - Try

(How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Would try his best for special events

He’d be very bad at keeping secrets or surprises, you would most of the time find out what he has planned

But you wouldn’t tell him that you know so you don’t upset him when he gets really excited about surprising you

He would do the usual on your anniversary, flowers and chocolates with a cute date planned

He would love buying you cute little gadgets and books that he’s read that he think you would like

He would prefer simple, movie dates most of the time, but maybe once every two months you would go out for a cliché romantic dinner

U - Ugly

(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Definitely his gaming

Sometimes he would play it for hours on end, not giving you much attention

I mean most the time you would join him or watch him play, but after a while it would get a little old

The only way to distract him enough to get him off the game is to sit on his lap facing him and kiss his neck

He would freeze up and drop the game immediately

“Okay fine! I’ll give you attention!”

V - Vanity

(How concerned are they with their looks?)

Wouldn’t be his priority

Obviously because of his overgrown hair, he doesn’t care hugely for his looks

I mean if you guys were going out together, he would put in his best effort to look decent for you

But if it’s just a day at home, he wouldn’t give less of a toss what he looks like

He doesn’t get insecure about himself often, he knows you love him no matter what he looks like

W - Whole

(Would they feel incomplete without their partner?)

He would value his partner over most things in his life

I mean, I do see him as a independent personality, so if he dated someone who was super clingy, I think he would find them irritating

He loves you so much, but he does need his time alone

He doesn’t think you constantly need to be all over someone and always be beside them to love them with your whole heart

So, he would love you more than anything, but he wouldn’t feel the need to depend on you for everything

X - Xtra

(A random headcanon for them)

He would love if you were best friends with Karube and Chota

Seeing his most favourite people in the world all get along would make him so happy

I think it would bring him a sense of security if you’re close to them as well, because he can trust them to take care of you if you need it when he’s not there

They would tease you and Alice all the time just to mess with you

Chota would love to have intelligent conversations with you like the lil’ nerd he is

And Karube would love to drink and banter with you

They would honestly be such a fun group of friends to hang out with

You would never be bored with them

Y - Yuck

(What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I mentioned before briefly, but he would hate a really clingy and possessive partner

He is independent and an introvert, so he would like his time alone with no one else every now and then

Having a partner that constantly has to be touching him or talking to him would be so annoying

He finds it really obnoxious, so he would prefer someone with a personality that is logical, reasonable and holds good morals

Z - Zzz

(What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He definitely snores

Not incredibly loud, but little snorts would leave him every now and then during the night

Sometimes if he does it for a while, you would nudge him with your leg to wake him up

Of course, he denies it, not believing that he snores

It’s not until you record his snores on your phone would he realize it

“There’s no way. That’s so embarrassing oh my god.”

SFW Alphabet Template

[athenasbloodyspear]

Don’t Make Me Beg Now Baby

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

Hello fellow Greta Van Freaks. This is my very first Greta fic! I hope you enjoy.

MASTERLIST

Note: This fic contains mature themes, discussions of past non-con (no members of GVF involved) and drug use. Minors DNI. 18+ only and please take care of yourselves. (See Ao3 for full tag list)

You can also read this fic on Ao3 if you prefer!

Jake Kiszka x Original Female Character

Picture this: The boys are in Northern Michigan to write the new album and they meet a wild young woman who works at a local record store who has a rough history with rock bands.

She doesn’t want to fall into the same traps she fell into before. He doesn’t want to hurt her.

The rest of them just want them to figure their shit out.

Note: While this fic is based on the members of Greta Van Fleet, I obviously do not know them personally (lol) and nearly 99% of this is a fever dream I decided to write down. Some tid bits are based on things said in interviews/photos/songs but please do not come for my neck if you dislike my portrayals as this is a STORY that I have entirely made up.

This will be a slow burn, overly dramatic, cliché fest of me missing my Mitten State and wishing more than anything I could move back home. Their music makes me homesick and for that I’ll never forgive them. ;)

Chapter Under the Cut

CHAPTER ONE: EDGE OF DARKNESS

The tiny bell on the door to “The Edge” clanked as Jake pushed his way in, followed by Josh, Sam and Danny. The afternoon sun streamed through the slats in the windows at a harsh angle, illuminating the swirling dust. The boys all immediately took a deep breath. They all loved the smell of this place. A mix of dusty old vinyl's, incense and weed. 

The Edge was the shop owned by an old friend, Levi, who had been a longtime family friend of the Kiszka’s. The boys had made the near three hour drive to the shop whenever they had a spare weekend in their younger years. They bought Levi out of his guitar strings and drumsticks and always looked through the boxes of vinyl's hoping to find treasures. Levi sold an eclectic mix of music equipment, records, books, home goods and comically horrific coffee. 

The Edge is where they had each bought their very first instruments, had their first beers and even smoked their first joint. It was a special place for them. 

The old wood floors creaked with every step, the wood walls were covered with old articles from Rolling Stone, photos Levi had taken and autographs from the artists who had cycled through the place over the years. There were stacks upon stacks of vinyl's. Shelves of old autobiographies and music theory books. There were speakers stacked from floor to ceiling, and the whole right side of the store was jam packed with basses and guitars. The back corner had a few keyboards and a drum set, but plenty of catalogues to pick even more instruments from. There were cases of drumsticks and guitar picks and strings. The middle of the store had tables full of incense, candles and interesting home goods. There were tables where local artists sold jewelry, art pieces and furniture. It was full to the brim, most shelves rising way up to the ceiling. Most needed a ladder to reach the top. The basement had a sound studio with even more equipment set up to be used to record, or to test out. 

Levi had inherited the place from his father, who had built up quite a legendary roster of friends over his years. The shop was just off Front Street on the main drag of Traverse City. Levi’s father had made a name for himself as a great host to bands looking to escape to northern Michigan to hole up in cabins and write albums. Levi continued the tradition and took it a step further by buying the space next door and turning it into a club with live music on the weekends. 

If you were lucky, you could catch some super huge bands playing for only about 100 people in the dark side room of The Edge. 

“You bastards finally made it!” Levi called out as he came sauntering out of the back room. Levi looked the exact same as the last time the boys had seen him. Tanned skin from his days paddle boarding and hiking along the Lake Michigan shore, sandy blonde hair that was brighter in the summer, perpetual 5-o-clock shadow because he just couldn’t be bothered to shave, shell necklace around his neck, light wash jeans low on his hips with the same old cowboy boots he’d been wearing since the boys were 12. 

“Is that grey hair I see Levi?” Josh leaned forward with an exaggerated squint. Levi laughed, snagging Josh’s head to give him a noogie. 

“I may be older than you punks by a few years, but I’m not greying yet.” Levi released Josh from his headlock and gave him a shove. 

“I’d say 37 is more than a few years older than us, grandpa.” Sam snarked. 

“You’re makin me regret extending my hospitality, kid.” 

Jake felt himself relax fully for the first time in a really long time. It was just like old times. Exactly what the boys needed. 

“Welcome back dudes. I’m surprised I’m still cool enough for you Rockstar types.” Levi crossed his legs and leaned back against the front counter. 

“We’ll never be too cool for The Edge. This place will always be way cooler than we could ever be.” Danny piped up, walking forward to wrap Levi in a hug. 

“It’s been too long man.” Levi commented as he smacked Danny on the back. 

“We know.” Sam said “Way too fuckin long.” He hugged Levi next. Josh and Jake followed up with hugs next. The room was heavy with a tinge of melancholy. Old friends who had missed each other finally reunited. 

“Well, have you guys been to the house yet?” Levi stepped around the counter and started pouring four cups of the famous nasty coffee. 

“Yeah we dropped our bags off before we headed into town.” Danny spoke up. 

“Isn’t it sweet?” Levi asked enthusiastically. 

“It’s wicked man. Thanks so much for getting that set up for us.” Josh grinned as he snagged a cup off the counter. 

The house was a mid century modern cabin right on the east bay shore. It came equipped with a huge garage studio, front deck and a dock out into the bay. Levi had bought the house in foreclosure and along with help from a bunch of locals (in exchange for beer of course) they turned the house into a perfect getaway for any artists looking to come take a break up north. The place had five bedrooms and three bathrooms with a giant living room with overstuffed couches and velvet chairs. The walls were covered in art and the shelves were full to bursting with plants. It was a kaleidoscope of colors and textures,  with mix matched rugs and lamps. It was Levi’s pride and joy. 

“I’m so glad you guys like it.” Levi smiled even bigger as he passed coffees to the rest of the boys. “Once you’re a little more settled, feel free to send me a list of equipment you want me to set up downstairs and you can start coming in whenever to work. But also, I think you should probably take a week or two off first. You all look about two seconds away from collapsing.” 

“Yeah we’re pretty fuckin beat dude. But we’ll send you a list ASAP.” Jake said, taking a burning sip of the coffee. It singed his nerve endings and he couldn’t have been happier about it. 

Levi opened his mouth to speak again, when a voice filtered through the window to the loft above the store. 

“Yo Levi!” the person shouted “Can you please get off your fuckin ass and pick music to play? I know Wednesdays are your day to pick but if you take forever I’m just gonna put on whatever I want and you can suck it.”

All four boys' heads snapped up to the window to the loft, but whoever was up there couldn’t be seen. All they could see was that the loft had clearly gotten a makeover. What used to be an upper level where Levi stored surplus supplies now looked like it had a plush velvet couch, lava lamps and plants in it. 

“Alright alright! I’ll get on it.” Levi called back up, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he walked toward the central sound system behind the counter to scroll through Spotify playlists. 

“Who the fuck is that and what have you done to the loft?” Josh asked, hopping up to sit on the counter. 

“That would be the very best thing that’s ever fallen into my lap. A.k.a my new store and venue manager Maven. She moved back to the area after living in Hollywood for a few years managing bands and she completely changed my life. We finally have consistent stock, a longstanding line up at the club and I have had the time to start photography again. Truly a godsend, if not occasionally a pain in my ass. She turned the loft into a breakroom of sorts.  There’s a couch and table up there now. She practically lives up there sometimes.” 

“Damn she must be some woman if she finally got you to get your shit together with that club.” Sammy piped up. 

“She’s hellfire, I’ll tell yah that.” Levi chuckled, finally hitting play on a playlist. The first bars of Surfin USA by the Beach Boys came on the surround system and matching groans came out of Jake downstairs and Maven upstairs. 

“Not this shit again!” Maven yells. Jake chuckled to himself. Hellfire indeed. 

“It’s my day to pick so suck it!” Levi called back before faux stage whispering to the boys “I mostly just play this to piss her off.”

Levi clapped his hands together once “Well boys, It’s close enough to five o'clock and I owe you a beer. Let’s head over to Little Fleet for some grub and beers and we can catch up.” 

Josh grimaced as he sucked down the last bit of his coffee before lobbing the empty cup into the trash at the end of the counter. “You still make shit coffee Levi.” 

“It’s the one thing I wouldn’t let Maven fix.” Levi said with a grin as all five men exited out the back door. 

                                                           ~0~

The boys took a week to relax, as per Levi’s request. They spent the days hiking the shore, kayaking and drinking beer around the fire. It had been way too long since they’d done this. The release of The Battle at Garden’s Gate had been exhilarating and the fans' response had been everything they’d hoped for. People seemed to love the album and they were all so proud. But with press interviews and touring, they hadn’t gotten more than a day or two to relax at a time. And they certainly hadn’t gotten a chance to get back to their favorite old haunts in years. 

They stopped by the store almost every morning for a cup of coffee strong enough to jumpstart their hearts. Sometimes Levi joined them on their escapades, and sometimes he stayed behind to help out at the store. The boys spent a few afternoons sifting through albums and strumming on some of Levi’s vintage guitars. 

Mostly they caught up on each other's lives. The boys recounted their more personal lives that happened outside the coverage of the album and Levi talked about the past few years of his life in Traverse City. Levi told them all about Maven and how she was practically his little sister. They laughed. They drank. They had a blast. 

The boys noticed Levi was a little on edge occasionally, typically when they heard someone shuffling upstairs or equipment moving around in the backroom of the shop. They assumed it was Maven but weren’t sure, since they had yet to see her in the flesh. A week from their arrival they were all sitting in lawn chairs in the alley behind the store, smoking cigs and drinking their coffee when Sam finally asked. 

“So, why haven’t we met your precious Maven yet? Hiding her from us or something?” 

Levi shifted a bit in his chair. “Um..” he coughed out a laugh. “I am actually. Yes. But it’s the other way around, I’m hiding you from her.” 

“Afraid she’ll fan-girl or something?” Josh commented as he ashed his cigarette.  

“In… a sense.” Levi coughed. “But in quite the opposite way you’re imagining.” 

“She’s a fan then?” Sammy piped up.

“She loves your music. A lot.” Levi sniffed and coughed again. “It’s a real safe haven for her. When she’s having a bad day I catch her upstairs laying on the floor smoking a J with sound cancelling headphones blasting your albums as loud as she can.” 

“Exactly how it’s meant to be enjoyed. With a joint in hand.” Jake chimes in.  

“Yeah..” Levi toes the asphalt a bit with his boots, but doesn’t continue.

“Soooo” Sammy drawls “Why can’t we meet her? We’re no stranger to super fans. I’m sure she’s cool.” 

“Um, well. It’s a bit complicated.” Levi heaves a sigh before flicking his cigarette butt into the coffee canister at the center of their little circle. “I suppose I can trust you guys. You’re friends. Do you remember the huge lawsuit that the band Undercover Heart went through last year? The one about the um” He coughs again, “Rape of one of their staff members by the lead singer Ryan?” 

“Yes. That shit was horrific man.” Danny spoke up. “I read all the details I could. They kept the poor girl's identity private but goddamn I felt so bad for her. She was a badass for filing that suit though.” 

“Yeah. She was.” Levi breathed. “So, this is strictly off record and if you repeat this to anyone I will skin you all alive, famous rock stars be damned.” 

“Jesus Levi.” Jake said. 

“It was her.” Levi choked out. “Maven. That’s why she ran back from Hollywood and ended up here. That dude messed her up and she just… she struggles with meeting famous bands now. You know how many people cycle through this joint writing stuff. She just… has a really fuckin hard time with it sometimes. Particularly bands she likes. I think it’s because once you meet someone, and in her case, discover how much of a monster they can be, their music isn’t… safe anymore.” 

“Fuck.” Jake said, flicking his cigarette into the canister. 

“Well I feel terrible for joking about her being a fangirl.” Josh mutters. 

“She just genuinely loves you guys a lot. I never really told her I was an old friend because I didn’t want her to be worried about y’all stopping by. I just know that if she knows you’re here she’ll take off and avoid coming by the shop as much as she can and not only do I need her here, but I think she needs the safety of the shop too. I didn’t want to wreck it.” Levi sighs again. “I know she’ll find out you’re here eventually, it’s inevitable. I just was a coward and didn’t want to break the news to her.” 

“She was a pretty well known band manager wasn’t she?” Danny asks. “She like… completely made Undercover Heart what it was. Before they hired her they were slated to be a one hit wonder but she hauled them into relevancy basically by her will alone.” 

“Yeah. She basically built that man's career for him. She gave him everything, and he took everything from her. If I ever see the man I’m liable to get my ass thrown in prison.” Levi mutters.

“I’ll help.” Danny says immediately. 

All five sit in silence for a few minutes, smoking the last of their cigarettes. When they’d all finished, they stood and stretched to head back inside the shop. 

“So yeah. Anyway, If you see her that’s fine, just… well now you have context for… her.” Levi says as he yanks open the door. 

A few steps into the back hallway, Levi suddenly halts, causing all four boys to nearly bash into each other. The front door to the shop had crashed open and there were footsteps stomping across the store toward the front desk. 

“Listen Levi,” Maven’s tense voice carried down the back hall. “I know Wednesdays are usually your day for music but I’m having an absolute shit fucking day so I’m playing Greta all day and there’s absolutely nothing you can fucking do about it, kapeesh?” 

The very opening chords of Edge of Darkness scratch through the speakers after she finishes her sentence and the boys all exchange a slightly amused look, grins spread on all of their faces. 

“Kapeesh.” Levi calls out to her. He spins and silently nods to the boys to head toward the back door. The boys attempt to be as quiet as they can as they creep toward the door. 

“Also, Levi?” Maven calls again. Everyone halts in their tracks. “You said there was a band coming in soon. Are they here yet? Do you need me to set up the backroom?” 

“Uh, yeah they’re here.” Levi squeaks. All five men share nervous looks. “They’re uh… up at the house.” He cringes at his lie. “I’m getting an equipment list from them today and then you can get started. 

“Cool cool.” Maven calls back. “Do you think I’ll like their stuff?” 

“Uh. Yeah.” Levi grins then. “I think you will.” 

“Wicked.” Maven calls back. 

All five men repress giggles as they skedaddle out the back door and into the alley. 

                                                        ~0~

The next morning the boys wake up to a group text from Levi. 

COME BY THE SHOP ASAP. COME IN BACK DOOR. HEAD DOWN THE STAIRS TO THE BOOTH. BE AS QUIET AS YOU CAN. 

A weird request, but they did as they were told. They all piled into the SUV they had rented and headed to the shop. Danny peeled open the back door as quietly as he could, and Sammy opened the door to the stairs. They tiptoed down and through the door at the end of the stairs that opened into the booth of a sound studio. Levi sat in front of all the mixing boards with a cup of coffee to his lips. He glanced over at them and softly said “coffees on the table.” 

“Why the weird text?” Jake asked. 

“Because of that.” Levi responded softly, pointing through the dark glass into the soundstage. 

The sound stage was littered with mismatched rugs, and a few milk crates that doubled as tables. There was a gorgeous seafoam green drum set toward the back wall and stands full of various guitars and basses. Along the left wall was a piano and a Mellotron set up exactly to the specifications Sam sent over. However, with all these beautiful instruments to look at that would normally catch their eye, it was the woman sitting on stool in the center, cradling a dark purple Fender guitar that made Jake stop in his tracks. 

Maven, Jake had to guess that’s who it was, was wearing checkered distressed pants, with a ripped up old band t-shirt cropped at her ribs, revealing a sliver of the rounded part of her stomach. Over top she was wearing an orange leopard print cardigan that ran down to her thighs. Around her neck was a series of long necklaces, and her wrists were adorned with interlacing leather bands. 

She was plucking out a melody with her eyes closed, rocking back and forth on the stool. Jake had seen countless numbers of people playing the guitar before. On the road, in the studio, studying old masters on YouTube. There was nothing overly special about the way she was sitting or playing, but he felt a little bit like he couldn’t breathe. 

“She never fuckin plays anymore man.” Levi whispered. “It felt like magic hearing music coming out of the basement this morning. I just felt like you should see it.” 

The melody she was playing was sad. Haunting is a better way to put it, and Jake couldn’t look away. Not even when Sammy placed a cup of burning hot coffee into his hands. She was moving her head along with her playing, the strands of her dark messy hair shaking back and forth. The group watched in silence as she played out the riff a few times, Levi cranked the volume of the mics in the space and they could hear her humming softly. 

“She has a strong presence.” Josh murmured. 

Maven suddenly stopped. Everyone froze as she heaved a sigh and stood from the stool to put the guitar back on it’s rack. 

“You in there Levi?” Maven said then. The boys still didn’t move a muscle. Jake’s head was spinning, having finally seen the face that went with the voice he’d heard in the loft for a week. She was beautiful. He couldn’t even really put his finger on why, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even seeing her through the thick dark glass of the studio. 

Levi hit the button to the mic in the booth and responded “Yah.” He paused before adding. “Sounded good.” 

Maven snorted in a self-deprecating way and said “Thanks.” 

Levi hit the mic button again and said “You should play more.”

“Don’t push it Levi.” Maven snapped back. Levi released the button to his mic and let out a heavy sigh. “Can you check some levels on the lines for me? I think I have everything pretty good but I want to make sure before they get here today.” 

“Sure.” Levi replied. 

Maven pulled the amp cord out of the Fender she had been playing on and plugged it into another guitar, one more similar to the guitars that Jake regularly used while they wrote. 

“Are we looking for a punk or a rock-y sound?” Maven asked. 

“Um.” Levi hesitated. “Rock. Their sound is like…” He tossed a small smile over his shoulder at the boys. “Like Greta’s actually.” 

“Dope. I hope they’re not just copying the boys. They’ve got a mellotron in here and everything.” The boys smiled. She pounded out a few chords on the guitar. “Good?” 

Levi looked over at Jake for confirmation. Jake, who still had not taken his eyes off Maven, nodded. 

“Yeah, that should be good for raw sound. They can play with stuff too. They’re a pretty well educated bunch.” Levi called back.

“Thank god.” Maven snorted. “Not like that indie punk bunch you booked last month who needed me to do fucking all their sound mixing for them.” 

“Maven, I don’t think they kept asking you down here because they need help with their sound.” 

Maven just rolled her eyes at that.  

They repeated the process with each instrument, Levi silently asking for confirmation from the respective Greta member until they were sure the sound lines were all functioning properly. 

“Great work kid.” Levi called into the studio. 

“Ew don’t call me kid. I’m a 27 year old woman.” Maven called back. 

Levi chuckled. “You’re a kid to me.” 

“Whatever.” Maven muttered. “I’m gonna go take a walk along the beach. Smoke a little. Text me if they need me.” 

“Will do.” Levi called back. The boys all tensed, looking for places to hide, or to run up the stairs and back into the alley. Luckily, Maven took the back door out of the studio and up another hallway instead.

“Well boys, it’s all you.” Levi said. “Text if you need anything.” 

Sam piped up and said “Yeah actually, can you pick my brother’s jaw up off the floor?” 

“Jake see pretty lady play guitar and Jake brain break.” Josh teased. 

“You guys suck.” Jake grumbled. 

Levi cackled. “I thought you’d like her.”  

                                                        ~0~

Maven walked along the coast of the bay and absentmindedly smoked a joint. It was an overcast and drizzly day which meant there was no one around, which she preferred anyway. She was feeling on edge. The drizzle was very slowly building a small sheen of water on her arms and hair, but she didn’t mind. The cool water and gentle breeze combination was perfect. 

Maven sat her butt down in the sand and stared out at the waves. She normally wore headphones on her walks, her world was a near constant stream of music, but she had opted for silence today. 

Levi was being weird. He was edgy around her all week, sending her out every morning for tasks and disappearing without saying where he was going around 4:30 every day. She had come to the conclusion that whatever band was in town this week was a pretty big name. Or big enough that he was nervous about her being around them. She sighed. She hated when he tiptoed around her. Maven didn’t blame him. When she first started working at the shop she had had a couple pretty bad PTSD episodes that had scared the shit out of him. She owed him everything for staying with her, talking her down and making sure she was fed and had water when she got into one of her states. 

Levi was her best friend, to put it mildly. He cared for her, kept her safe and in return she busted her ass at his store making sure they had the best products, the best shows and that their artist getaway was something that people would go back and tell their friends about. She loved Levi like an older brother, and he cared for her like his little sister. She would forever be grateful to whatever power in the universe made her stumble into The Edge two years ago. 

She had been high out of her mind, as she had been most days after she came running back to Michigan with her tail between  her legs, and Levi had been struggling with an amp in the shop. She had walked in, spotted his struggle and didn’t even say a word to him, just walked over and fixed the wiring so that it was functional again. Levi had looked up from where he sat on the floor and said “You don’t happen to need a job do you?” 

The rest was essentially history. It only took two months of seeing him every single day, and him not letting her sour moods go by unnoticed, for her to spill her guts over some bourbon one night. About Ryan and Undercover Heart and how badly the whole situation fucked her up. How after she’d recorded her testimony she’d boarded the next flight to Grand Rapids and hightailed it up north. She came crash landing into Traverse City because she’d always loved it as a kid, and figured it would be a great place to start over. The small town she’d grown up in had too many people who knew her. 

He was extra careful with bands for a while. Never letting her be alone in a room with too many male band members, and carefully vetting everyone who came through. Eventually she told him off about treating her like a porcelain doll and he backed down a bit, giving her free reign over lots of the equipment set ups and giving her plenty of hours in the shop by herself. She was happy to do so, so Levi could focus on fixing up the artist house and starting his photography again. 

But he was still very gentle with her sometimes, and she’d always love him for it even when it pissed her the fuck off. 

Once she’d smoked the joint down to the roach, she tucked the end into her pocket. It was sacrilegious to litter near the lake. It was too precious to be fucked with. She meandered back toward the shop. Her plan was to grab her bag and head back to let her Pitbull, Stacy, out for a walk and pee. The girl had been cooped up all morning and Maven felt bad. 

She threw her whole body against the front door, as the latch often stuck, and the loud sound of the chimes clanged in the empty space. She rolled her eyes. Of course Levi left the shop unattended and unlocked. It was Traverse City, no one was gonna rob them, but what if someone wanted to buy something? 

She was humming softly to herself as she made her way around the edge of the counter and plopped down on the stool by the register. She whipped out her phone to ask Levi where he was. She had the message halfway typed when the door behind her, the one that led to the staff restroom, popped open. 

“You know, crime is especially low in this town but that doesn’t mean someone wouldn’t come in here and try to steal your precious coffee maker.” She tossed over her shoulder. 

“Oh.” Was all that came back. It was decidedly not Levi’s voice. Maven spun back quickly. 

“Sorry I…” But that’s as far as she got. She was suddenly face to face with Jake Kizska and all thoughts quickly left her brain. 

They both stared at each other for a long moment. Maven couldn’t quite figure out why he looked just as shocked to see her as she was to see him. He also almost looked afraid for some reason that Maven couldn’t figure out.

He was dressed in an outfit she’d seen him wear plenty of times. A black button up, half unbuttoned, loose fitting light wash jeans and a pair of well worn boots. His wrists were full of bracelets and his hair was longer than the last time she’d seen footage of their concerts, well past his collarbones at this point. 

“Hi.” Jake finally broke the silence. “I’m Jake.” He reached out his hand for a handshake. 

“I know.” Maven replied, and then coughed. Why did you say that you freak? 

Suddenly the front door bell chimed again, and Maven whipped her head to see Levi coming in the front door. She stood abruptly from her stool, skirted around Jake’s outstretched hand, and out from behind the counter. She scooped up her leather satchel on her way. 

She headed straight at Levi. He glanced over his shoulder and saw an apologetic Jake looking forlorn and lowering his hand back to his side. 

“Oh hey Maven-” 

“Hey dumbass, don’t leave the store unattended again. I’m going home to check on Stacy. Probably won’t be back for the rest of the day.” Maven spit as she stormed past him toward the front door. 

“Maven wait-” 

But she was already outside, the hinges bringing the heavy wood crashing back into the frame. The chime of the bells rang through the space. 

“Sorry.” Jake muttered. 

“Not your fault. I knew she’d find out eventually. Right now she’s probably just pissed I didn’t tell her. Which she has every right to be.” Levi sighed. 

After a few more beats of silence Jake spoke again. “Who’s Stacy?” 

Levi huffed a laugh. “That would be her Pitbull.” 

“Oh.” Jake said again. He felt crazy because his brain couldn’t come up with anything else to say. She was prettier up close. She smelled like the Lake and weed and sandalwood. He really wished she’d taken his hand. He shook his head trying to find his brain in it somewhere. 

The other three boys came clambering up the stairs and into the store. They all looked between Levi, who was still standing in the middle of the shop, and Jake behind the counter. 

“Are you two playing freeze tag or something?” Sam quipped. 

“Jake met Maven.” Levi responded. The boys' heads whipped toward Jake. 

“And… I’m guessing it… went well?” Danny questioned.

Levi finally walked back toward the counter. “She left for the day. This is on me. I should have told her y’all were here.” He snagged his keys from below the counter and walked toward the front door to lock up. “I’m closing early, boys. Let’s go get a beer.” 

“Kowabunga baby.” Josh said with a grin.  

                                                     ~0~

Maven sat curled up on her velvet couch, Stacy was her little spoon. There was incense burning, a bottle of wine open on the side table and a lit joint in the ashtray. She had changed into a giant t-shirt and boxer shorts. The soft sounds of John Denver playing off her record player. 

However, none of these things were easing her mind. 

She was pissed, mostly. At herself. At Levi. She was pissed he didn’t tell her they were coming. She was pissed that he felt he couldn’t tell her. She was pissed that she had acted like a freak in front of Jake. 

The anxiety was an endless pit in her stomach. She couldn’t go back there tomorrow. She couldn’t see any of those people. Not when she felt like this. 

She whipped out her phone and quickly shot a message to Levi, before chugging her whole glass of red wine and snagging the joint out of the ashtray. 

                                                        ~0~

Levi’s phone dinged on the table where all of the guys sat drinking beers and chatting. Levi glanced at it and quickly picked it up when he saw her name. 

“It’s Maven.” He said. 

“What did she say?” Jake asked, sitting up a bit in his chair. 

“Fuck.” Levi said, tossing his phone on the table, still unlocked. 

All four boys leaned in to read the screen. 

CASHING IN ALL MY VACATION DAYS. I’LL BE OUT FOR TWO WEEKS. 

“Fuck indeed.” Josh said, pounding back the rest of his beer.

[cdmagic1408]

19, 18, 20, 25, 30, 12, 6, 17 for you’re Onward ask game. :)

* Quick FYI * gonna go in numerical order for this...

6. favorite background/minor character?

answer coming in next onward ask game post!

12. where in the onward world would you like to travel to?

next stop...ANYWHERE!! lol the whole United Realms needs traveling and exploring! but first and foremost: New Mushroomton! Just take me there first and let the quest begin! 🛣

17. top 5 fanfics you’ve read?

TOP 5?! oh no…there’s no way…I can’t do that. I refuse. I love all onward fanfics I read! 🤩

but from what I’ve read and re-read recently, I liked Corn Children by OceanHeart23, it’s pretty creepy but also very heartwarming and hilarious! read it and you’ll see...

I also really enjoyed I May Not Be Dad (But I Am Still Here) by PurelyAnime, who said in their notes for it that they were thinking about writing more for onward but so far this is their only story, but it’s a great one! a good mix of fluffy and angsty! 

other than that, my other favorite onward fics I’ve read that I still love to this day I talk about in these asks: ask 1 and ask 2 📖

18. if you write fanfic, what’s your personal favorite fanfic you’ve written?

hope you all don’t mind the obvious answer being If You Trust Me cause that’s the only onward fanfic I’ve ever written! but it’s also still without a doubt my best one! ✨✨✨

it’s my personal favorite for a lot of reasons: i spent a lot of time on it (a year and a half!) making sure it was just the story I wanted it to be, it contains a majority of things I’d love to see an onward continuation explore, and I wrote the whole thing during covid and out of my undying love for this movie, its characters, and its world!

and let me say right now that if it ends up being the only onward thing I ever write, if I don’t write anything else, I am perfectly happy with that! 😊 being 33 chapters long, it’s practically novel-length and that’s enough to fit hundreds of one-shots! 

so yeah…for the onward fandom, I think it’s safe at this point to call it my magnum opus ✍️

19. favorite type of onward fanart?

I love it all! it’s why I share pieces of it every Friday! 😉 but my most favorite type of onward fan art might have to be ones where Ian and Barley show off their amazing brotherly bond! here are some examples of that 🖌

20. what’s your personal favorite fanart you’ve drawn?

that’s a great question! I know I definitely write a lot more than I draw, but I do like to draw! I’d say my personal favorite fanart I’ve drawn might have to be my poster/book cover for IYTM (which you can find in my IYTM masterpost)

It took between a month or two to make, and that involved picking the right colors, drawing all the characters and drawing them accurately, deciding which font to use, among other things...and I really love how it came out after all that work! It captures great excitement and gives you some clues on what you’ll run into when you read this story! 👀

25. do you own onward merch? have you created your own?

absolutely! I’ve got a great collection of things! and yes! even things I’ve created myself!

but that's all I'll say about it for now... 😏

30. if you could, would you add to or change something about the film?

answer coming in next onward ask game post!

from mel’s onward ask game ✨

[theobligatedklutz]

Would you write some Willie hcs plz 💕

Willie Headcanons: Family Centric (I had so much fun writing these).

Willie was born to part-time struggling artist and full-time bakery owner Nil and writer Sylvia Red in 1967 in California, Los Angeles. 

His mother wrote books under the alias Bishop Hop (a man’s name —selling books was difficult for any author but especially hard for a female writer in a very much male dominated occupation at the time) and had numerous best-selling novellas under the pen name.

Willie was always a happy child, always in for an adventure, always coming home from school with cuts and bruises from climbing trees and swinging too high for the adrenaline.

His father encouraged his creativity, imagination and inability to sit still but his mother frowned upon it.

At age 5, his little sister was born. Skipper. Kip. “Lil Kippy” to dad. The light of Willie’s life. Willie couldn’t imagine a life without her. She was every bit a trouble maker he was. Their mom had her hands full.

He would often sit her on his shoulders and run around the house just to make her giggle in excitement. 

They also shared music. When Kippy found a new song, usually through dad, she would drag Willie to her room, play it on her cassette player and they would hum to the notes together and break out into dance. “Hey Kip?” “Yeah?” “You're a rad baby sister.” “Don’t call me a baby, Willie!”

It was at age 12, while helping his dad with the bakery on a Sunday evening, that a skateboard caught his eye for the first time. An older kid skated into the store and Willie’s eyes wouldn’t leave the rolling board on the ground.

He begged his dad to get him one. “You promise you won’t get bored of this one like you did with basketball and pottery making.” “Come on, dad, promise, I’ll practice and I’ll get really good and I’ll be so bomb!” “Will, do it because you’ll love it not because of how you’ll look to others.”

He had a brand new (his first) skateboard by the end of the week. It was black and “boring” and Willie, Kip and their dad spent an afternoon painting small details on it.

The first time he got on the board, he fell on the pavement and broke his nose. His mom told him "no more skateboarding" in a matter of seconds after seeing his bloody nose.

It took a lot of convincing from dad and she was not happy about it but his mom gave him one last chance to prove that he wouldn’t die skateboarding (...sry)

But once he got the hang of it, the wind in his hair — “Willie, put your damn helmet on or so help me god” —, zooming through space, the rush - it felt like he was complete. 

He never wanted to come off of the high. It was like his feet belonged on the board, it was like he finally found the last puzzle piece.

Willie, Kip and their dad spent almost every weekend afternoon in his dad’s little corner, painting and listening to music. They knew every word of Redbone’s Witch Queen of New Orleans and Willie and dad spent every minute competing to see who could make Kippy laugh the most. They always ended up with paint all over their faces, hair and clothing.

There was this one time, Sylvia came home from the store to see her husband and two kids pretending to be in a rock band; Willie air-guitaring and drumming his fingers on the sofa arm and Kippy and Nil lip-syncing to I’ve Got to Find the Right Woman and when Nil noticed Sylvia, he pulled her into his arms as irresistible force come to me, I’m gonna love you played in the air, and that was the first time Willie saw a genuine smile on his mother’s face. There was a magic to the way her face lit up at seeing what an absolute dork her husband was being. 

“Now clean up the mess all of you made.” She had said afterwards, a sternness in her tone but her mouth still twitching in a smile. That’s when Willie realized that his mom wasn’t all cold and stone, there was a fun-loving teenage girl behind the mask.

His mom didn't see the height coming because one day, in his second year of high school, he came downstairs two feet taller than her and she looked at him like he had grown another head. “What? Mom, what?” “Nothing...just eat before you get late.” His dad snickered, watching the whole scene.

There was another time, he caught his mom listening to the Beatles and asked her about her favourite song and they fell into a conversation like never before. That was the second time Willie saw a real smile on his mother's face. She cleared her throat after she caught herself – an hour and a half later – and grabbed a little piece of paper and jotted down some other song recommendations and then she stepped away making some excuse about needing to do something. Willie held the little paper in his hand like a lifeline. His mother was really something.

After he passed, Kip locked herself in her room for three day. She didn't come out for school or to eat or drink. She didn’t come out when her dad begged her: “please, Kip, let me help. Please.” She didn’t come out when her mother demanded it: “Skipper, come out and eat dinner right now. I’m not asking. Skipper Hurit Red!”

It was on the morning of the third day when Kip heard a soft whispering on the other side of the door — her mom’s voice  — “...I’ve already lost Willie. After every single thing I did to try to keep you and him safe, I failed. I lost my son...don’t make me lose you, Kippy. Please.”

Kip opened the door so quickly, so urgently, it slammed against the wall and then, was engulfing her mother in an embrace, matching tear tracks on their faces as they sat on the hallway floor and cried.

They were quiet after that. Nil and Sylvia brought their chairs closer to Kip at the dinner table but they ate in silence.

Nil never painted anymore, and when he did, it was always portraits of long hairs and deep brown eyes and a care-free smile from memory. Willie smiled at them but lost the happiness he felt at being the focus of his dad's art when he looked into the tortured eyes of his father. He was sad, there were tears staining each canvas. And instead of the chemical smell of paint, all Willie smelled was salt and the burning smell of a heart on fire.

Kip threw away her cassette player and tapes in anger one day, screaming at Willie for being a coward and leaving her alone. Willie wailed next to her, yelled at her to believe him when he said that he never left her on purpose, that he would come back in a heartbeat if he could.

Sylvia kept her composure in front of her husband and daughter but she broke down every single day for months on end. Willie watched her do it. Watched her distant, cold demeanor crumble the minute her family was out of sight. He wrapped his arms around her every time and sometimes Sylvia would freeze and quiet down the minute he did it and he knew, somehow, his mom felt him.

Willie watched his family members fall apart, lose their ways. He saw the pain, sadness, anger. He saw everything and it ate at him until it was just anxiousness and no air to breathe. And he felt like he was breaking. 

And then they moved because what did they have in this city aside from wreathing pain and a losing game. And Willie, for the first time, felt like an empty shell, no connections, no attachments to anything in his own city. No family. Just a skateboard and an abandoned house key.

...and a lurking shadow in a top hat watched him in his weakest form.

[trutimeline]

idislikecispeople, The Most Infamous Dyscourse Blogger: Part 1.0, Rumors

idislikecispeople, also known as many names throughout her time on Tumblr (such as Adele, Kat, Mami, Samantha and Sayaka), was a former Tumblr blogger who became infamous for coining the term "tucute", among many other controversial things she has posted on her blogs. This was supposed to be one, very long masterpost about her, but Tumblr's post editor is a bitch and won't let me do that.

In this post, I'll be debunking or confirming rumors commonly spread about idislikecispeople. The rest of my posts about her will each be dedicated to a specific controversial belief she held or situations she got into. For simplicity's sake, I'll be referring to idislikecispeople as Kat for the rest of this post and future ones.

Rumors

Kat Coined the Terms "Truscum" and "Tucute"

Verdict: Partially True

Kat coined the term tucute, but she did not coin the terms truscum or transmedicalist.

Here's a screenshot of Kat's original definition of a tucute:

Transcript:

What is Tucute?

What does tucute mean?

Tucute is basically just the opposite of truscum, it’s a term and community for trans, nonbinary, and/or non-cis individuals created to separate anti-truscum from truscum and to serve as a safe place from truscum and from cis people, where they believe that being trans requires dysphoria, we do not,where they think that being trans is a medical condition, we do not,and where they deny numerous gender identities on the basis that it “discredits the trans community” we do not.

What are the prerequisites to be a part of the tucute community?

You have to be trans, nonbinary, and/or non-cis in general

You have to accept all pronouns and gender identities

You haveto believe that dysphoria is not necessary to be trans

You have to dislike truscum

You cannot side with truscum or believe in their ideology

You cannot misgender anyone no matter how mad they make you

You cannot be an ableist whatsoever

Did you invent the tucute community? Why?

I indeed did coin the tucute term and community and anyone who says otherwise are creeps who are trying to steal it from me and redefine it for their own nefarious doings. I started this community so anti-truscum could separate themselves from truscum and cis people who are a part of the truscum community, it serves as a safe space from both truscum and cis people.

I’m cis, can I be tucute if I believe in your movement and want to help?

No, you can’t be tucute if you’re cis, you can only be a tucute ally, and you need to be sure to never speak for or over a trans person.

I see a lot of tucuties being just as harmful as truscum, what will you do about it?

There isn’t much I can do to them other than ask them to stop aligning with the tucute community, and of course, that doesn’t mean they will. Also be noted that truscum and cis people will pretend to be tucute just to tarnish the name of the tucute community, so tread lightly, you might be talking to a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Spread the word, use the tag #tucute and join the army today!

[A digital drawing of Sayaka Miki from Puella Magi Madoka Magica in her magical girl form, with a banner underneath her reading "Tucute 4 U!"]

(source) (source)

Kat Was a Cisgender Woman Who Lied About Being a Transgender Woman

Verdict: False

This rumor primarily comes from a post on Kat's oldest known Tumblr blog, chromaghost, where she claims that she wasn't MTF and only tagged a selfie as such because she thought that transgender people were "cool".

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: are you a mtf? i seen it tagged on one of your photos.

No lol. I wanted to post it to the tag because transgender people are cool :3

(source) (source) (source)

However, Kat addressed this post and made it clear she very much was a transgender woman multiple times on her later blogs. This claim can also be confirmed with nude photos Kat posted online, which I don't feel comfortable spreading, so you'll just have to trust me on that one. I also don't feel comfortable directly encouraging you to go and dig up those nudes, as most of her nude photos were either taken when she was a minor, spread without her consent and/or were uploaded because people pressured her into posting nudes to "prove" she was a transgender woman.

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: you bound with ace bandage in one of your selfies. i don't know what to think about you anymore. according to some people you're a 27 year old cis woman scamming us, but you say you're a 22 year old trans woman. i want to trust you but i don't know if i can. i'm sorry.

Rest assured I’m not 27 years old lol. What you’re referring to is a less than graceful ~art piece~ we did (”Playing a Boy” or something) on deviantART when we were 16/17 (?) and really ill-informed. I ask you to not take that as how I stand currently – as I have learned so much more since, and I have a penis and I was designated male at birth because of it (feel free to purchase a passcode to our nsfw blog to see for yourself). At the time we were developing breast tissue but still had to appear as a ‘boy.’ Don’t bind with Ace bandages, kids, it can damage your rib cage, something we didn’t know at the time.

(source) (source)

Transcript:

[A picture of two prescriptions, estradiol and spironolactone, both prescribed to Adele Sheffield.]

grandtran still gonna think I photoshopped it or what

(source)

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: In other words, you aren't gonna cough up the pics because you know you can't fake that shit because you're actually cis. Cool. BTW why do you keep changing your story about the blog, and if the blog was run by you when you were in denial about being trans because of self hate, why were the pics tagged mtf and you were constantly saying trans people were cool?

Yeah I’m not gonna do something for y’all and get nothing in return except more doubt from you, you see how one sided that kind of request is? Also its technically considered sexual harassment, just because its on the internet, you’re a coward (whats your username btw?), and you think I’m cis and you want me to prove time and time again to you that I’m dmab doesn’t justify sexually soliciting someone when they’re not comfortable in being solicited – for free no less.

At first I genuinely had no memory of that blog, it was only active for all of 2 months and for some reason I moved onto a new email and new tumblr, and I haven’t the foggiest why. As for the whole “me claiming to not be ~mtf~” I don’t have any memories from that time, I can only assume it was a lot of dysphoria fueled self-hatred and wanting to be seen/pass as a cis girl lesbian.

If you’re really gonna solicit nudes from a trans woman (a second time) as they do sex work to try and stay on their feet without offering anything in return just so your transmisogynistic ass can get off to trying to tell me my dick is fake isn’t classy at all. I perish the thought of what you’re parents would think of this behavior from you. But yeah, feel free to send some money to my paypal so I can get the gender markers on my records changed because that’s gonna cost a lot apparently, and I’ll definitely send you the dick pics you want. :)

(source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

[A picture of a a hospital bracelet on Kat's wrist. The patient's name is Adele Sheffield and her sex is labeled as "M".]

(source)

Kat Lied About Having Diabetes To Get Money From Tumblr Users

Verdict: False

This doesn't need much commentary from me, just view the screenshots below.

Transcript:

To the people who keep harping on me buying a $15 video game for my mental health 7 MONTHS ago “with my donation money,” well, here you go, some proof, links and screenshots provided

So for everyone spreading misinformation about me spending $15 on a video game for my mental health, here’s a full list of reasons why there is no way, shape, or form I spent my paypal money on it:

Yes, I spent $15 of my own money after selling one of my possessions, not denying it:

[A screenshot of a Tumblr post by Kat where she shows off a copy of Fall Out: New Vegas, marked with a price of $14.99. The date of the post is marked as July 21, 2014 at 06:28.39 PM.]

Be sure to look at the date, July 21st, 2014 6:28 PM. Now lets look at my first donation post asking for help:

[A screenshot of a Tumblr post by Kat where she asks for donations to be able to afford insulin because she has no insurance. The date of the post is marked as July 20, 2014 at 08:14.00 PM.]

Hmm, one day before the purchase of said game, July 20th 2014 at 8:14 PM. Now, I’ve never heard of a video game store — much less a non-chain video game store accepting payment for video games in the form of virtual Amazon gift cards, have you? Oh, but you’re gonna say, “well you bought the game with your paypal donations anyway!” Well, here’s exhibit C:

[Another screenshot of a separate post made by Kat where she is also asking for donations to be able to afford insulin. The date of the post is marked as July 23, 2014 at 12:27.46 PM.]

Again, looking at the date of this posting which is the original donations post, you can see it was posted on July 23rd, 2014 at 12:27 PM, a full 2 days after I had bought the game. Now, if there’s no way for me to use Amazon gift cards for a real life video game store, then how can I go back in time a minimum of 2 full days to give past me $15 to buy said game, hm? This isn’t even accounting for the fact that I didn’t even have my own bank account associated with it until over a week later, and it surely doesn’t account for the fact that it takes up to 5 days to transfer from paypal to your bank account. All the dates are linked to the original unedited posts so you can see for yourself, and for added measure my first deposit was on August 14th, 2014:

[A screenshot of a deposit made by Kat. The date is marked as 08/14/14.]

Oh but yeah, anti-sjs, truscum, and the like took damniwishidthoughtofabettername’s postthey used to gaslight us with misinformation and you all bought it. Tell me how I could misuse donations that I could not use outside of Amazon and money I didn’t even start receiving until a full two days later, let alone the fact that there’s no way I could have transferred said money and used it two days prior as of the date of the paypal donations post.

I hope some of y’all could reblog this and get the word out, I’m sick and tired of people buying into that misinformation that person did solely to gaslight me as a means to try and disrupt my donations drive.

(source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

[A selfie of Kat holding up a vial of Novolin to the camera.]

Hey anon, I don’t feel comfy giving you my receipts (because doxxing is a thing) but here you go, a selfie with my most recent insulin purchase. 👽

(source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source) (source)

Transcript:

Anonymous asked: Getting desperate for money again I see. How is your fake diabetes lately. I bet your blood sugar is like 800 this time and you're still able to be alive somehow.

You got me, I’m ~totally faking~

[A selfie of Kat. In the background several items used by diabetics are seen such as insulin syringes, glucose tablets, a blood sugar tester and test strips.]

[A picture that gives us a closer look at the background of the previous selfie.]

[A selfie of Kat holding up two vials, one of Lantus and the other of Humalog.]

Gee, must be one dedicated faker, right? To have hundreds of dollars of insulin equipment and insulin itself. Hmmm… Insulin syringes, glucose tablets, a blood sugar tester and test strips.. oh and insulin, hmmmm….

Oh and because you didn’t learn from last time you don’t die instantly when your blood sugar goes over 600 lol, something anyone who studies endocrinology can tell you, and I would know, being a diabetic, having to be hospitalized numerous times for ketoacidosis where the blood sugar has been too high for too long. Things you clearly do not know and you’re just jumping on the disableist bandwagon. I have an idea of who you are anyway, just doing this for future reference.

(source)

[kyluxtrashpit]

2020 Fic Recap

I really like writing these and 2020 has been a HELL of a year, so here we go lmao. It’s been a wild ride for sure

Total wordcount: 88 109 words (note: I’m subtracting the ‘sorry I didn’t finish this, here’s a summary of the remaining plot’ that I published for a fic in a previous fandom from this since it’s not relevant here). Overall I wrote less than last year, but given all that happened in terms of the world and personally and fandom-wise and all of it, I don’t feel too bad about it lmao. I also have a lot of WIP words of half-finished things and some planning and such so I feel okay with this

Favours, 4906 words, posted Jan 4

This was a weird one cause this is a two chapter reader insert fic, the same story but told with both Phasma and Hux. I originally wrote this for Phasma, but later decided it would be easy to tweak into a Hux story (which it was lmao) and figured people might like that, so I did both. I had fun doing it, even if this is kind of a very small niche ship and trope wise

Know Your Shadow, 5022 words, posted Feb 16

Ah yes, here we are, the first foray into renben, a ship I had NO idea would grab me so hard but here we are lmao. I’m not done with them either yet, don’t you worry. There’s something about the corruption angle I really like, also Ren is HOT, and it’s also interesting to think about Kylo truly getting to find himself and be who he wants to be. Canon didn’t really satisfy on this, but the concept still interests me and it’s what had me writing this fic. Also, Ben losing his virginity to an older man like Ren is just *chef’s kiss*

Public Indecency, 3719 words, posted Mar 1

And my second renben! This was partially inspired by art and partially by just the idea of not giving one single fuck, and how thrilling that must be for someone like Ben to experience. Ren and the KOR truly do not give a shit and it’s really beautiful in a way. Plus some hinting at found family with the KOR. Ngl, Ben/Kylo finding his place and acceptance with the KOR makes me so Soft and there’s so many words I could write about it. Plus public sex is very hot lmao

Beautiful, 3254 words, posted Mar 8

Back to kylux, and this one was an old WIP I started back when the prompt was first posted on KHK in like 2019 or something. I got stuck on it and then left it for a while. I was digging through my old WIPs, looking for something that might catch my interest and boom, this one did, so I finished it and then posted it. I quite like the fic and it’s a bit more in the ~classic~ style. It’s also always a good feeling to get an old WIP done lmao

Choose Your Destiny, 5077 words, posted Mar 20

More renben and this was my fix it fic for ROKR vol 4. I talked about this more on twitter at the time and why I found the story as it was unsatisfying, but ultimately it’s really just a case of rushed writing and playing into established bad writing (e.g. showing a fall from grace by having someone kill someone eviler than themselves). I also really liked Ren and I felt like Kylo didn’t really get to have enough agency in like... any of it. His motivations were weirdly absent as well, despite this being ostensibly about him. So I wrote this, which I think handled how the story should have gone a lot better and, plus, it’s got smut!

(Okay and the rest are behind a cut for length)

Show of Devotion, 2479 words, posted Mar 28

Renben once again and this time, I mean, it’s all inappropriate use of lightsabers lmao. I was looking at the Ren and was like ‘wow that is SO phallic’ and then the horny brain turned on and, well, here we are. I also wanted a side of found family with the KOR and I think got that with this. It’s horny. It’s fun. What more could one want?

Aural, 2729 words, posted May 12

Okay this one... I have absolutely no excuses for lmao. I’m not even sure where the inspiration came from, I just remember I was in an online work meeting that was boring and the entire sequence of events played itself out in my head. It was all I could do to focus on work for the rest of the day and not immediately write this cursed creation lmao. The worst part was I’d been totally blocked on writing since March and this, THIS, was what eventually broke out of me. In case you haven’t read this one, it’s ear sex. Hux’s dick, Kylo’s ear. No, I don’t know the logistics either. But hey, I had a blast with it, both in terms of writing it and the reactions lmao. Someday I gotta write a follow up involving a nose too

Missed Chances, 10 749 words, posted Jun 7

Ah yes, this is the point where my renben met my kylux and created this absolutely enormous peanut butter cup of a fic lmao. It really was supposed to be like half the length it was, but alas, it was not. Also cockblocking kylux was SO hard, they wanted to fuck SO bad, but I had to stop them, the story demanded it lmao (and people in the comments were MAD, which is always excellent). It’s also when my renben series really started to have like, an overarching plot (aside from the modern au fics which I’ll talk about later). I even still have more instalments planned

Free Use, 6971 words, posted Jun 23

Another one that turned out far longer than initially planned, and also my most popular fic this year! I’m both surprised and not cause like. It’s a complete smut fest + my heavy headcanoning of the personalities of the KOR. People like smut, but I also feel it’s kinda niche considering how deep I’m in for the KOR lmao. So idk, I guess the smut won out. I did have a lot of fun with this one and there’s a lot of characterization thought put into each KOR, so it was really nice to see people loving that as much as I did. Canon gave us crumbs, but I just used them to make meatballs

Eat You Up, 1573 words, posted Jul 5

There’s not a lot to this one, it’s really just renben rimming cause the sexual dynamic with renben is so fun. Kylo/Ben is inexperienced yet eager and depraved enough to impress Ren, which is something considering I think of Ren as Very Experienced lmao. I really do love this ship; it’s a lot of fun to play with

In the Vents, 2002 words, posted Aug 3

Ah and this was my first piece for the stuck inside event on twitter, which I had a lot of fun with. Stuck fetish is one I’ve always wanted to explore, but never had any concrete ideas for. This event led to me finally getting to have Kylo stuck in a wall (plus more as well), which was fun. Also I spent far too long thinking about Hux’s vent contraption set up cause I knew he would never let Millie go anywhere that might hurt her, so I had to come up with a way to make the vent safe and here we are lmao. Hux being an engineer and also the most extra cat owner in existence worked out very well indeed. This was also the start of my creativity boom near the middle-end of the year that uh kinda burned out in a not so great way, but I’ll talk about that later lmao

Distraction, 3658 words, posted Aug 6

Another for the stuck inside event and another kylux/renben sandwich! Also featuring the KOR this time! Listen... it’s a gangbang, it’s got renben, it’s got kylux, it’s got Kylo getting stuffed from all ends... this is the kind of fic that, to me, is pure indulgence lmao. I had a tremendous amount of fun with it

Entrapped, 3484 words, posted Aug 8

So this was also for the stuck inside event (yes, I wrote 3 fics in about a week lmao - I don’t know how I did it either) and it’s darker than the sort of things I usually write. I enjoyed exploring something like this though, something outside my usual purview. It didn’t perform super well, but tbh the dark ones rarely do so lmao

Pit Stop, 1505 words, posted Aug 31

Welp, this is just an excuse for watersports lmao. I like piss, what can I say? And I’ve done it to kylux, so I had to do it to renben, and the modern au ‘need to pee on a road trip’ seemed like the perfect opportunity for it. Not much to say for it really

The Deal, 2431 words, posted Sep 3

Ah and this one here was the first for the throwback event I ran on twitter! The event itself ended up kind of being tainted by drama from one singular person who kind of ruined it by being a jerk for literally no good reason, but I’m not going to talk too much about that. Even with that, I still greatly enjoyed it and this piece might be my favourite from it as a whole. Kylo Amidala, political scandals, neither of them being nice... ahhhh yes, it definitely brought me back lmao

Devotion, 1929 words, posted Sep 10

Another for the throwback event, this time with Emperor and Hound dynamics which, unf, yes, I will literally never get tired of it. I really had fun with every fic from this event and this one was great because I so rarely get to write real action scenes, even if they’re in a flashback here. That and the dynamic itself really made it fun

To Be Wanted, 10 473 words, posted Sep 16

Ah yes, and here is my KBB for the year! I did a minibang this time, as, well, everything was going horribly wrong around the time of sign ups and I thought a mini would be more realistic. I think I was right on that and I’m glad I did it, even if I was torn at the time. The idea itself is one I’d been thinking about for a while. I can’t remember if I thought of it after seeing the leaks for tros or after watching the movie itself, but it’s been with me for a while and while I dithered over whether or not to sign up this year, the idea came back and was just perfect for a minibang. Plus I got an absolutely amazing and wonderful partner, which is really what makes the experience of doing bangs so great. I love this fic, I LOVE the art for it, and the whole experience was definitely a highlight to 2020 as a whole, both overall and in terms of my fandom/writing experience this year

Floss Me, 2033 words, posted Sep 21

My third for the throwback event and also the dental fetish fic I’ve wanted to write for a while now lmao but could never figure out a scenario for. As some of you may remember, 2018-2019, I went through some pretty horrific dental stuff and ultimately I think it kinda gave me a fetish lmao. Also I feel like there may or may not have been a kinky flossing prompt on one of the prompt sites at some point, but I looked everywhere and couldn’t find it so. But anyway, it was a fun fic for a kink I think is quite underrated tbh

The Cost of Certainty, 2541 words, posted Sep 25

My fourth and final piece for the throwback event, and this one is also a contender for my favourite piece from that event. I have always loved the idea of Hux being a serial killer and this was a perfect excuse to write it. I’d also recently finished a rewatch of Hannibal and, well, you can see where this came from lmao. I love writing tension and it was just very fun all around. I almost wish I’d done something like this as a long fic but tbh I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed writing it as much

Huxloween Drawings, 676 words, posted Nov 1

So this isn’t a fic but rather the drawings I did for huxloween, but people wanted them on ao3, so posted they are. Now, I mentioned above that I had this massive creative boom in Aug-Sep, but that it burned out rather badly. This is when that happened. I got into this place where I just... felt like everything I made wasn’t wanted or needed in the fandom. That everything I like is so unpopular at this point that I should just give up and leave. That I’ve spent all this time and energy over the years trying so desperately to get people engaged and so few ever cared and I just... ugh. It was bad. It was really bad and definitely partly fuelled by the bullshit that someone brought up regarding the throwback event (and I still believe that they are the sole cause of it’s poor reception). I, uh, am doing better now and still working through it all but it was a really rough time. But I found myself still wanting to be creative so I decided to draw. I am not good at drawing. I am not an artist. But that’s what made it fun: I went into each drawing knowing it wasn’t gonna look great. That wasn’t the point. So I never got upset about it. I think it helped me a lot tbh and I did really enjoy it and I’m glad I did it

Unconventional, 7243 words (in progress), updated Dec 20, first posted Nov 18

So the next part of me trying to fix the bullshit in my brain creativity-wise was to post the first chapter to this fic. This is a piece I’ve been working on since 2016-2017 (I don’t remember exactly when, but it was pre-TLJ, and I’ve gotten a new computer since so I don’t have the original creation date of the document) but I could just... never get a plot together for it and ever since I abandoned a fic in my old fandom (and this year I finally posted the ‘sorry this isn’t getting finished, here’s a closure summary’ chapter), I’ve been hesitant to post WIPs before being at least 80% done. So I said fuck it, I’m gonna post this and not be scared. Is this fic complete? Nope, but the plan is starting to come together. Do I know exactly where it’s going? Nope, but I don’t need to. Is it self-indulgent as all hell? Absolutely. I love this fic and I love this story and I love the concepts within it. So I posted it and tbh, it really helped. And I think this, combined with my writing break where I drew for 31 days straight lmao were really my saving graces here

Test Run, 3661 words, posted Dec 31

And now my final fic of the year! Which is a ship I honestly wasn’t super into (I don’t hate it, it just generally doesn’t do much for me) but then I did that thing where I thought ‘hmm but could it be written in a way that I am into?’ which, in my experience, always leads to me writing exactly that. Which is what I did here lmao. I’m pretty happy with it though and despite it being very strange to write, as I really had to work to get these two to get where they were going lmao, I had fun with it. I honestly doubt I’ll write more of them, but I’m glad I wrote this one, and I think it’s a good experiment to close out the year with

What have I learned?

Honestly, this year was a clusterfuck lmao. 2019 wasn’t great for me either, but we all lived through this and it was certainly An Experience. I think what this year really helped me focus on was what made me happy. I ended up in some dark places and I don’t want to go there again. It feels repetitive to say that, once again, I have learned that writing what I want is key when I say that every damn year, but tbh I think 2020 underscored it even more so. Spite as a motivator, when used to much, smothers the spark of creativity and the joy of creation. The most important lesson I learned this year by far is to not let that take the driver’s seat. A dash here and there? That’s fine. But as your main motivator? That’s just not healthy. And I need to work to keep it from consuming me like it has been for too long

Goals for 2021?

So last year I didn’t set any hard goals and boy, is it a good thing I didn’t, cause I achieved none of them lmao. I didn’t write more words (though I did write more individual fics, and the word count gap between this year and last is about the size of the difference between a big bang fic and a mini bang fic so really, I think I did okay), I didn’t even write a single fic for BTHB, and, to be really honest, I did not manage to keep my love for writing alive the whole time. I was in a really dark place a few times this year, but that drop in Sep-Oct was the worst from a creative standpoint. I feel like I’m mostly out of it now, even if I still have some work to do maintaining it. I’m hopeful for the future in that regard. The only thing I really did accomplish was that I feel positively towards all the fics I wrote; I’m happy and proud of all of them

So what is my goal? Honestly, I feel like every year I have to relearn the lesson of ‘write what you want, have fun, be self-indulgent, fuck expectations, etc.’ and my goal this year is to not have to relearn that again, but to keep that energy and carry it with me for the whole year. I realize I may have to put some effort in there, but I’m okay with that. I don’t know what 2021 has in store, but if I can just keep my passion alive and not fall into that pit again, I’m calling it a win

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good 13/18

not my gif. just the text- Threats

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order, joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a   Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

[Part 11] [Part 12]

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse

--

The first storm of May left the school in a darkness Kate never saw before. The temperature had abruptly dropped; the exams were getting closer and the Quidditch game that week had been cancelled as a result of an avalanche that had reached the castle grounds.

Ranunculus glacialis; Draba lactea; Dryas octopetala; Cicerbita alpina... she was reading the different plants stuck together with Spello-tape and correctly classified that she had hung on the walls of the classroom. The herbarium project had been successful even among the most reluctant students; so much they begged to go to the lake and expand their works of art with aquatic plants.

With a proud smile, Kate looked out the window of the herbology class, following the comings and goings of the students who passed by and lamented their lost quidditch match.

In the distance, Mer Yankelevich was coming from the lake, wearing a large hood to protect herself from the rain.

Her gaze turned to the column. Astrid Rhode and Libor Marek were talking beside it. The teacher must have felt eyes resting on him, for he scanned his surroundings. Realising that it was Kate who was watching him, he turned his attention back to Rhode, who glanced at her as well. “In my experience,” the curse-breaker from Iceland than Rhode had hired had said, “someone has tried to break a curse that does not exist.”

In another time and in another school, all eyes would have been on Kate. Now, free of that burden, she turned to see if her students had finished copying on their scrolls the Herbivicus charm used to make plants grow at high speed.

“I know that the attempt to make the umbrella flowers germinate has not turned out as we expected. They are very obstinate flowers, but we must be even more stubborn. This Friday, we will change the fertiliser we have been using for a more refined one”.

Thunder rumbled on the castle walls and some children began to get restless.

“Perhaps they don’t like this weather,” she joked before climbing onto the platform where her desk was placed. “When we get the optimal conditions for their germination, we’ll practice the spell until they come into bloom. However, and this is very important, we must not let the flowers open yet. We want to prevent them from pollinating naturally before we select them.”

Micael Angelov raised his hand. “What about the fanged geraniums?”

“I’ve been doing several tests and they germinate properly. They are easy to control and that is why we will be working on them after getting at least ten healthy umbrella flowers...”

The classroom door blasted open, revealing a hooded figure. All the sheets and scrolls in the class were scattered with the gust of wind that came in with the stranger. Thinking that it was Mer Yankelevich, she went to the door to ask for explanations, but Corentin’s face stopped her. Surprised, Kate aired her wand to close the door and stop the cold coming in.

The librarian lowered his hood and immediately apologised to the students, who began to whisper.

“I must talk to you,” he murmured.

“Can it wait until the end of the class?”

Corentin nodded and headed for the end of the classroom where he stood on a corner without looking away from the window.  He kept looking outside until the bells indicated the end of the lesson.

“Let me know if you want to go to the greenhouse before Friday and I’ll open the door for you. Jon, you must give me the list of your inventory, ah! Wait! I have your works on the mandrakes corrected, on Wednesday we will comment on it... Be careful outside!”

When the class was free of students, Kate approached Corentin, who was looking at her with a sly smile.

“You are getting more comfortable here.”

“What’s going on?”

“Last night someone went through my desk. Don’t worry, they were unsuccessful. I have the plans well in hand, but that shows that someone has the same goal as us.”

“And also that they have been spying on us.” She waited a moment and added, “This is not a good sign, Corentin.”

“I advise we continue with our... project.” With one hand, he gestured to the windows, and the curtains closed, leaving them in almost total darkness, except for the candlesticks on the ceiling.

He shook his sleeve, and from a black smoke the different scrolls that made up Nerida Vulchanova’s maps appeared.

Kate had some candles levitated, providing light and some warmth around them. From her desk, she took out seven books on magic walls, curses, portals and doors, and as every day since the discovery of Nerida’s painting, they began their study session.

After a couple of hours, Kate dropped her head on the desk with a thud.

“I have superposed all the rooms, corners and nooks of these plans, and they are all dead ends.”

“And there is nothing in these books that works... There are spells, incantations, words and words that say wonderful things and nothing at the same time. It’s like reading a blank page...”

“Did you wake up poetic today?”

“What do you think is inside?” Her voice sounded a little nasal, as she had her entire face smashed against a book, “One of the Deathly Hallows?”

“I doubt it, it’s not known if Grindelwald got any in his time at school and I don’t think, in case he had the elder wand, he came here to hide it.”

She raised her head and scanned the desk “Let me see the room behind the portrait again.”

Corentin gave her the plans,  forming the rectangle that represented the secret room.

“If you look closely, there is no passageway connecting the trophy room to this place, and I have been trying to match it to one of these, but nothing convinces me.”

“We lack information.”

“That’s obvious. But there are no other documents than the ones we have here. There is a possibility that Vulchanova destroyed them.”

“No...” she trailed off. She checked several sheets and held one that was blank. Only a triangle adorned one corner. “My grandmother was a Muggle...”

Corentin raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want you to take this as a lack of interest, but what does it have to do with this?”

“When I was a child, I was not allowed to see my grandparents. One of the conditions for allowing my parents to marry was to cut off contact with that branch of the family, and in return, the Williams offered my grandmother protection from anti-Muggle politics.”

“I’m sure this is going somewhere...”

“Of course my mother didn’t cut off contact. I was very young, but I remember the distinctive smell of...” she sniffed the parchment and a hint of a smirk appeared on her face, “lemonade.”

“I really try to follow you.”

“My mother wrote letters that, in the eyes of wizards, were empty. Muggles have a technique for making invisible ink.”

She extended her arm to one candle and held the paper so close to the flame that Corentin leaned over in his seat for fear that she would burn it.

As Kate moved the parchment, several lines appeared in a copper colour, which Kate recognised perfectly.

“Fascinating.”

Kate chuckled and left the parchment on the table. “I don’t think Vulchanova intended you to live in a controlling regime in order to decipher her map. Just that you knew a little about alchemy.” She pointed to the triangle in the lower corner. Corentin’s eyes shone with excitement.

He grabbed the missing piece of the map and spent long minutes trying to fit the lines over the fragment they already had. Meanwhile, Kate was trying out different pieces of parchment and new lines appeared on the existing maps as she drew them closer to the fire.

“Look,” said Corentin, “it can be accessed in several ways.” From where Nerida’s painting was, two paths branched out showing two tunnels leading to the room.

Kate gasped. By turning one of the sheets of paper, she made the newly discovered lines coincide with others drawn in ink.

Corentin imitated the procedure of heating the scrolls and, as if in a perfectly synchronised dance, they fitted each parchment with the previous one, forming a map of the ground floor that occupied the whole desk.

When Kate placed the last paper, a golden light emanated from one corner. The light moved through the junction between the papers, forking and coming together until it disappeared. Corentin raised a corner, noting with fascination and surprise that they now had a single plan of the castle.

“Wait! It’s disappearing!”

Corentin brought the map closer to the candles and the rooms and passages reappeared, making both of them sigh in relief. “With the Muggle trick that doesn’t happen.”

“Maybe she thought she had to give it a magic twist.”

 After tidying up the room, Corentin left Kate thinking about their more-than-suspicious meetings.. They had to be more careful from that moment on; if someone was watching them, they could get into trouble.

The storm had subsided, and instead of the sky it was Kate’s stomach that was roaring.

Corentin had taken her students’ books back to the library, so she exhaled happily that she could go directly to the dining hall. As she opened the curtains, she came face to face with Libor Marek, sitting on the outside stone wall.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted as she closed the door behind her.

“I thought you’d never get out.”

“Have you... been waiting for me?”

“No. There are rumours that Karkarov has returned to the grounds... I’m here on Rhode’s orders. When the students are eating, the guards reinforce the doors and this area is left empty...”

“I don’t see you too worried.”

Marek huffed and began a thorough inspection of his wand. “I will not hunt down the man who gave me a job.”

“Igor Karkarov...?”

“Yes.” He did not look up. Kate waited for him to say something else, but concluded that she would have to force him.

“Who else did he hire?”

“And how would I know that? I was the last to arrive. Well, Hodges came later, but that was Rhode’s doing.” He shook his head and put his wand up his sleeve before looking around. “I’m going to eat.”

“Didn’t she tell you to stand guard?”

Marek walked up to her and in a raspy voice said, “I would stop whatever it is that you’re doing .”

The difference in height gave Kate some security, but she chose not to adjust her stance to one of defiance; the last thing she wanted was to duel that man again. “Watch your back.”

Marek squinted and left her standing in the cold, wondering if he was referring to himself or someone else.

The rest of the week proved uneventful. After the discovery of Nerida’s complete map, Kate avoided the library as part of an unspoken agreement with Corentin. The librarian, for his part, did not contact her until Thursday afternoon when they enjoyed each other’s company with some tea and biscuits.

Only one sentence was exchanged about their research and that was Corentin commenting nothing out of the ordinary had happened and that only Sheyi Mawut approached the library to borrow a book on batting techniques.

Friday’s class in the greenhouse was fruitful; Kate’s students managed to germinate seven umbrella flowers with the new fertiliser, eight according to the children, who took the flower grew in such a way that it shot up into the air, opening a gap in the greenhouse roof, as a success.

Kate proposed a prize for whoever found the flower when it fell.

The path to her room after the class was full of obstacles; the students, motivated by the proximity of the competition, practiced their spells and incantations in the corridor or moved in groups to see the lists of participants.

Amidst robes and hats, Kate spotted Leron Angelov’s head in the distance. She had no intention of worrying about him until she saw him stagger down the hall. He rested both hands on a door and dropped his head forward.

There were students everywhere, but Kate could perfectly see Cassandra Steiner make her way through to Leron. She opened the door and pushed him into the room.

With firm steps she advanced to the classroom at the end of the corridor and without waiting a second more, she muttered Alohomora, and burst inside.

Like a niffler caught in the middle of a robbery, Cassandra looked up with big eyes. Her expression hardened instantly. She waved her wand to where Kate was and she heard the click of the door closing.

Without her eyes off Leron Angelov, she moved closer to get a better look.

He seemed to be standing in a strange position. His eyelids were not fully closed, his arms hung like two dead weights on either side of his torso and his legs... his legs did not touch the ground.

He floated in the air, without a broom, without a spell. His posture was grotesque, and Kate looked at him in horror because even though she saw no rope, he seemed to be hanging.

“Is... is he dead?” she asked with a trembling voice. She sought the healer’s gaze, but she was busy airing out the desks in the centre to create a larger table. “Steiner, is he dead?”

“No. Shut up. Help me with him.”

Both healers grabbed Angelov’s body and turned it in the air until it was in a horizontal position.

“Hold him against the table.” Kate obeyed and put her hands on Leron’s chest. She had to use a lot of strength as the body insisted on levitating.

Meanwhile, Cassandra moved around the makeshift table, uttering a spell repeatedly. Angelov’s hands and ankles were quickly anchored to the wood.

“You can let go.” She informed, before heading for the windows and starting to close the curtains.

Kate watched his eyes move behind the eyelids, and small wrinkles appeared on his forehead from time to time. As a good healer, she followed the inspection, looking for symptoms that could explain the teacher’s unusual situation.

The buttons on his left sleeve were open, revealing a red and bruised arm.  By removing the sleeve completely, she discovered what Leron Angelov had been hiding.

Puncture marks covered the inside of his elbow, made so fiercely that a wound had begun to form.

Kate let go of a slow breath and reached into the pockets of his tunic.

“You won’t find anything,” announced Cassandra, “I’ve already taken care of it.”

“What is it that makes him be like this?”

“Something called Billywig.” Kate exhaled at the news. She should have deduced that before. She watched as Cassandra opened a small chest, containing several rows of vials, and grabbed one. “Although you already knew…”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t try to fool me. Didn’t Rhode ask you to spy on him? To catch him in the act?”

“I’m pretty sure that Rhode doesn’t know about this.” Steiner stared at her.

“Does he sting himself in the greenhouse?”

“Not since you started using it. Thanks for that, by the way, since you started playing teacher, it has been impossible for us to keep track of him.”

Kate frowned. “Us? Who is ‘us’?”

“You’d better get out of here, things are going to get ugly.” As if on cue, Angelov’s body moved. He opened his eyes, injected with blood, and tried to get rid of his bonds with a force that did not seem like his body.

Cassandra forced the contents of a vial into his mouth until it was empty. In a few moments, Leron fell asleep.

“Calming draught?”

“Do me a favour and stop meddling in matters that don’t concern you.” Kate ignored Cassandra’s attempts to keep her in the dark.

“Steiner, who else knows about this?” she asked with a solemnity unbecoming of the situation. “I need you to trust me.”

She wasn’t entirely convinced, but gave her an answer, anyway.

 “Jorgensen. No one else can know about this, understood? If you tell anyone, I will make sure you never set foot in this school again.”

“I wasn’t planning to do that anyway...” she replied, referring to the part about revealing his secret, but also valid for the latter statement. “May I ask... why do you keep the vials... locked up?”

“Because these potions are not part of the school’s inventory. When Igor Karkarov was here, there was no problem; Rhode implemented a budget for ingredients that Jorgensen has to meet.”

“Don’t you grow your own ingredients?”

“I thought you’d noticed that you’re the first person to use the greenhouse in a decade. Kent sometimes picks some herbs from the forest, but it’s not usual.”

“But why do you have them at the hospital wing?”

“Kent and I buy what we need for the potions, he brews them, and we used to keep them in my room until Rhode started bringing in people from the British ministry, guards, inspectors... so we moved them to a place where they wouldn’t ask questions.”

Kate looked at Leron, who was becoming agitated again. “Kent hasn’t found a formula that won’t make us waste so many potions. For now, this is what we can do.”

“Beats his son, you know?” Kate accused.

“When he’s under the influence of the Billywig liquid, he’s not aware of his actions. Giving him so much calming draught doesn’t help his memory either. Micael went into his room. I hadn’t had time to tie him up and his hand slipped out. He went after him for a while, to make sure he said nothing. Most of the time he doesn’t even go near him.”

“That doesn’t speak in his favour either.”

“I didn’t say he was going to win an award for being father of the year.”

“Why are you doing this? Isn’t it better that he’s in a hospital and not teaching?”

“Look where we are, Williams. Many of us have known each other forever. We take care of each other here.”

“And Micael? Do you take care of him too?”

“Of course we do.”

“What about the sticky box that was with the bottles?” Cassandra rolled her eyes, irritated by the interrogation.

“I pick up the billywigs that Leron leaves all over the place and give them to Jorgensen. What’s left of them is useful in some potions.”

Leron awoke with a start, and the mediwizard came to his aid immediately. When he saw Kate, he gripped Cassandra’s wrist.

“Don’t worry. She knows.” Cassandra got rid of the magical bonds and he stood up slowly. He groped the ground and after a while managed to stand up without floating. He eyed Kate as she aired her wand at the tables, making them return to their original place. She felt his mind on her, and she purposely avoided his stare.

“My wife passed away some years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She still didn’t look at him.

“I have the feeling that you’re not” at that she raised her head.

“Why is that?”

“Because of the way you looked at me at the staff meeting. With utter...disgust. You have a very expressive face, even when you think you are concealing it.”

“Your perception of me is based on your own experiences.”

“No. No, I know when a person doesn’t like me. And I could say the same thing to you.” A heavy silence fell over them. Kate watched as Cassandra organised her things.

“My son has good grades in Herbology. I didn’t think that could happen.”

“I am not giving him special treatment just because he’s a professor’s son.”

“I meant nothing of the sort. Just implying that you are.... You know how to connect with children. You... talk with them. Right?”

“Yeah, that’s...how you often interact.”

“I’m not sure if you have a wicked sense of humour or you just really despise me.”

“Everyone, at one time or another, loses a loved one. Sometimes prematurely. That doesn’t give us the right to compromise the safety of those who are still alive.”

“Who are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You appeared out of nowhere. In the middle of the school year, and in a few months you became a teacher and the talk of the town. I hear your name everywhere, from everyone’s lips. And every time I turn around, you are there. One might think... you are up to something.”

“What exactly are you accusing me of?”

“Just an observation. But let me give you a piece of advice...”

“No. I won’t tell anyone about your condition if that’s what you’re worried about. But If you hit Micael again I swear....”

“You shouldn’t be threatening me.”

Kate found herself positively conflicted. She meant it when she said she didn’t want to betray their trust, and as a healer she wanted to help him in any way she could. However, the need to protect the boy was competing with her compassion for his father.

Abstracted by her own thoughts, Cassandra’s voice went unnoticed and only caught the last few sentences.

“We’ll get out first. Rhode will be coming to give the Dark Arts lesson now. Don’t tell her about this.” With one last look, they disappeared out the door, leaving Kate alone with her conscience.

She took a few steps towards the wall and exhaled as she let herself fall back slightly. She rested her head on the stone and closed her eyes, seeking the only thing that could comfort her at that moment.

Charlie.

Perhaps if she concentrated enough, she could connect with his mind as she had done the night they spoke through the flu net. She visualised his freckles when the sun hit them, the movement of his fingers when he drew. She tried to remember his laughter...

Kate?

She opened her eyes suddenly. Astrid Rhode looked at her with concern.

“Williams, are you all right?”

No, she hadn’t said her name before. A little upset at her cowardice preventing her from talking to Charlie in a way she would never have imagined. She peeled off the wall and nodded fervently.

“Yes! Yes... “

“Is there anything you should tell me?”

“Nothing at the moment, no. Although... I wanted to ask you: why did you send Professor Marek to stand guard at the back of the castle?”

Rhode raised her eyebrows. “I have done no such thing. Why would I?”

--

[Part 14]

Tag List: @eldritchscreech @meteora-fc @cazreadsstuff @the-navistar-carol

@am-i-space​

[what-kinda-fuckery]

Hey so, I was one of the star struck falsettos stans that spent the forty dollars for the webinar, and I took notes (like a weirdo). So I decided I would share my funny moments and updates from the cast here!

- Host: Everyone should be keeping their audio off.

Christian: Oh alright!

Host: nO Christian not you

- Christians in Manhattan and his hair is back and he’s wearing a Superman t-shirt.

- Brandon is with his parents in NJ

- Stephanie and Brandon still love each other

- Brandon: Meat should be cooked just right

- Betsy: Stephanie are you in maple wood?

Stephanie: Well thank you for telling everyone where I am (she’s in NJ)

- Stephanie: Are you fucking kidding meee!!!

- Tracie is in LA, she looks like she’s in Costa Rica and I love her dog.

- Anthony’s VOICE IS LOW EVERYONES FREAKING OUT

they’re all talking about Anthony’s clear skin

- Andy Randy is in LA with a fresh haircut his boyfriend did it and he’s watching too much TV

Andrew: I’m watching this is America

Stephanie: SO GOOD

Andrew: SO GOOD

- Everyone’s having hard days

- Christian is acting out tracies dog’s pathetic bark and everyone’s like WHAT are you doing bc it looks like he’s about to throw up

- BETSY IS A WEEK AWAY FROM HAVINGA WHOLE CHILD

Betsy: What else do you do during a pandemic? Have a baby!

Andrew: Can I toss out another baby name? Celery.

Literally everyone: Goodnight Andrew goodbye!

- Christian is living with a girl (?) and playing board games instead of watching television

HE COOKS NOW EVERYONES PROUD OF HIM

Christian: yesterday I made pork filet en croute

Stephanie: I MADE PORK WITH SAGE AND APPLES ON WEDNESDAY

Stephanie: In mean girls they wear pink on wednesdays. In falsettos they make pork.

- I can’t get over Anthony’s voice

Again everyone returning to his literally perfect skin

- Stephanie: When watching four jews in a room in the beginning who’s in China?? I know the answer I just want to hear someone say it.

Andrew, with a thick accent: It was Bryna, in China, with a torn miniscus

- Christian: Did anything interesting make it on to the telecast between me and you? Andrew? Actually I dont remember I need to do my research.

Andrew: There’s been some strange comments about Christian and I- (AT THIS POINT IM WHEEZING)

HE MENTIONED THE TONY BONY

HE SAID IT WASNT A THING

HE DIDNT HAVE ONE

Andrew: No that’s not a thing that happened

Brandon: Andrew i want you to know that it’s okay if it was. It’s a safe space just the seven of us. (Lol)

- Bill Finn would take two steps into the room: “WROONG”

Stephanie: he wanted me to sing the end of I’m breaking down up the octave and I said #notmytrina

Brandon: #NOTMYTRINA

- Tracie what did you do during act 1

Tracie: Betsy and I sat in that dressing room for like an hour and a half

Andrew: You SANG the WHOLE SHOW TRACIE

- Betsy watched parts of the first act to feel like she was there

- Betsy sprained both her ankles at one point during the run and was a trooper anyways

Brandon reenacting Betsy limping during look look look look

Everyone dies laughing

Christians LAUGH makes me SO HAPPY

- Betsys screen is frozen like this: 🤨

Andrew: What if she went into labor??? (This is a common thread throughout the zoom)

- Anthony: I’m getting a lot of glitching so Stephanie is just like “HUH UH UH UH”

- Betsy comes back and everyone is like

YOU GUYS ITS COMING!!!

- They bought Andrew an ice cream for his birthday from the vending machine at rehearsal

- Andrew: The Hawaii crop top

Betsy: I would give anything to have that

- Tracie: it was very hard. Very precise bringing the blocks together

Brandon: Trying to be like oh my god we’re going to a funeral

Andrew: MY DEATH IT WAS MY DEATH

- fan question: What did the blocks weigh?

Stephanie: They were like thick yoga blocks. Not heavy but awkward shaped

Andrew: Significantly heavier when Anthony sat on them

Anthony: I just realized how much I got thrown around

Stephanie: Anthony were you proud of yourself? #proudofyou

Anthony: The one moment I was cringing was father and son

Christian: HERE WE GO *SLAPS TABLE*

Betsy: Anthony’s like BLAH BLAH BLAH blah my line BLAH BLAH BLAH my line BLAH BLAH

Christian: I LEAVE THE PAUSE IF YOU CANT GET IN THATS ON YOU

Anthony: I was blinking in that number like constantly

Christian: THE WHOLE THING LIKE A SALAMANDER

Oh Anthony.

- Andrew: I HAVE A STORY ABOUT CHRISTIAN BORLE. Tech for what more can i say. He was laying on me. We were shirtless in underpants under the blankets.

Christian: SLOWER

Andrew: he leaned over; He sniffed his armpit and said “I hope you like France”

EVERYONE DIES LAUGHING INCLUDING ME

Christian: i haven’t worn deodorant in 10 years true story

- Christian: i seem to remember holding our pillows and blankets pretending like we were partying on fyre island and Andrew said:

Andrew: WHATS YOUR NAME???

Christian: No no it was something like:

WHAT HOUSE ARE YOU STAYING IN??

Andrew: WHAT HOUSE ARE YOU STAYING IN???

Betsy: James lupine I feel like we’re ruining this show

- Andrew: The shenanigans were real but so was the sadness

Stephanie: We’re real and we’re funny what you gonna do

- Andrew talking about how hard the show was to do: Finding some liberty, It’s a hard world to live in all the time. It was a hard time especially for Christian. I would sometimes go home and cry for no reason

Brandon: Building up emotion with nowhere to put it

Betsy: then Lesbians come in and provide all the levity

Stephanie: Although Dr. Charlotte brings in horrible news

Tracie: Everything’s beautiful at what more can i say and I’m like not so fast

- Tracie always had a funny thing to say

- Who broke character the most on stage?

Anthony Stephanie and Christian

Anthony: it was when I said “I don’t want a bar mitzvah” and I spit in your face a lot and you went like *puts arms up* and someone at stage door was like very condescending like it’s not professional

Christian: Oh my bad we’re people sorry

- Stephanie wrote a line in the show “YOU HAVE PAINTINGS OF DICKS”

- James wanted her to cut off her finger during I’m breaking down

And turn around with a bandaged bloody finger

- Betsy’s nose bleeding during something bad is happening

And Tracie was like something BAD IS HAPPENING

Tracie: Christians throwing up right now

Betsy: Bloody Kleenex up the nose THE SHOW MUST GO ON

- Fan question: Stephanie how do you belt with a banana in your mouth

Christian: Practice practice practice

Stephanie: just shove it in your cheek. But Really that wasn’t supposed to happen

Anthony’s nickname in the rehearsal room was little bananas because he had to gather up all the pieces of stuff after Stephanie shoved the table over with her rear. Sometimes he didn’t have enough time to put it somewhere so he would just put the pieces of banana in his mouth and that’s where it came from

That’s why

- Andrew: Stephanie your glasses are very chic

Stephanie: Oh my gosh thank you *shocked*

- Betsy: Bill was like I’d rather DIE than change lyrics for the pbs special

FLaT aS a LaKe

- Cue everyone accidentally talking over each other and saying what at each other for 30 seconds

Christian: what? what? what?

Who is it?

What’s going on?

- If you could play anyone else in the show who would it be

Anthony said Mendel

Tracie said Mendel

Brandon said Trina

Andrew said marvin

Betsy said whizzer

Stephanie said Mendel

And I honestly couldn’t hear if Christian said anything whoops

- Brandon: If someone could at some point explain to me the Mendel eats dirt meme? People have been Asking me if Mendel eats dirt? I don’t think it’s about Trina Trina is not the dirt. I was overwhelmed. Can someone in the Q&A explain this? *A few seconds later* oh It was from a meme generator?

Christian: Greaat.

Brandon: It’s a fan fiction about Mendel eating dirt and getting aroused by it

Everyone: WHAT

- They still get fan art

Someone recreated the whole soundtrack 8bit and also with KAZOOS

- Brandon: CONGRATS CHRISTIAN ON LULOS WIN FOR LITTLE SHOP. If you haven’t seen Christian in little shop it’s revelatory I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass I have not laughed that hard in a while at the theatre

- Christian talking about little shop

Christian has a 12 inch Batman toy in his dressing room and he misses it

- Ticket prices were getting out of control before corona everyones hoping this will make a difference

Brandon and everyone think it should get more accessible

- Brandon: Hear hear I need a refill

- Stephanie: Your hair looks incredible Brandon (it did)

Christian: She’s been waiting to talk about it for 53 minutes

- Andrew: Well Betsy what I’m wondering is have you crowned yet??

Proceed everyone dying

Brandon, taking a picture of the screen: This moment will go down in history as When Betsy was asked if she was crowning

- Everyone mimicking zoom freezing by starting a sentence and freezing halfway through

- Christian: What new Steven sondheim musical are you excited about Anthony *devilish grin*

Anthony having no idea what Christian is talking about

Christian: Come on Anthony you know the answer. Ugh. The minds of the young. You’re smoking pot now aren’t you??

Christian: We have a lot of fun

- Andrew: I’m trying to get people to pay attention to me

- Christians pretending to be frozen

Cue a lot of yelling: Stephanie BRANDON STEPHANIE

NO CHRISTIAN

Everyone accusing each other of being frozen

NO YOURE FROZEN

- Andrew: Let’s all act like we’re frozen

Steph: I see Andrew acting like hes frozen

Betsy: Watching you do that is killing me

- Listening to the cast recording for the first time together

Stephanie: Why was I the a-hole that couldn’t be there???

Christian: That’s a question only you can answer

- Betsys husband came in everyones like BETSY LOOK OUT

Christian: that scared the shit out of me

- What is marvins last name and what was his line of work

Christian: we definitely said it at some point right? (They didnt) but he was in advertising. What was the last name? Gardens? O’Malley?

- Andrew: Betsys gone oh no

Betsy: I’m right here!!!

Andrew: She’s giving birth (again)

Stephanie: Betsy Wolfe is a ceiling

- Brandon: Welcome back Anthony. You’re here now.

Anthony singing merrily we roll along over Betsy trying to tell a story

Christian: STOP SMOKING POT IN YOUR BEDROOM ANTHONY

- Betsy: Steve (Steven Sondheim) comes to the door I call him steve

Into the woods is the reason Betsy is in theatre

- Betsy: Andrew was nervous singing at the tonys for Book of Mormon and he got dry mouth he sang like 😬I BELIEVE and he licked his lips so much during the song.

Brandon: Did you have a boner then too?

Andrew: GUYS DONT BE DICKS

Stephanie: It’ll be like dry mouth, boner

Andrew: BETSY YOU FUCKIN BITCH ITS ACTUALLY NOT THAT BAD

Stephanie: Bets maybe we should wrap it up

- Brandon sings MARRIAGE PROPOSAL

EVERYONE TELLING HIM TO STOP SINGING I took a video it was beautiful might post that later

- “Tracie Thomas from Lent!”

Tracie having stage fright

Tracie: Billy porter said “oh child we all forget the words” and walked away

- Anthony said WHO SHAT THE BED in four jews once

Anthony: That’s my contribution. Steph got her line, I got who shat the bed

- Steph: We lost andrew oh no

Christian: Um, we lost andrew ten minutes ago. Yeah when Brandon started singing

- Then Betsy sang a song by Bill Finn beautiful

- Steph: Wear your masks and eat pork on wednesdays

That was it!! I hope you enjoyed and people who were there if I got anything wrong that’s my human error it was hard to note everything I wanted to. Smooches! Byee

[livinginfictions]

Tag/Ask Game

This is a sort of Check-in Tag game thing? I was tagged by @vikingstrash, so thank you dear!

1. Why did you choose your url?

I used to have a different tumblr, and then my sister saw me on it and literally took the mouse and made me follow her own tumblr, and it made me So Immensely uncomfortable, I immediately went and made a whole new blog, and messaged all my mutuals privately to tell them I was moving so my sister wouldn't find out. As I struggled to come up with something more creative than 'time-lady," I remembered one of my mom's favorite sayings, "Reality sucks, live in fiction" and since livinginfiction was taken, my friend (who was helping with the crisis) and I added an 's.' Voila. Seven years later, it's the only username i have online. XD

2. Any side blog?

Three, actually. We've got @merthurismycrack where I reblog Merthur shit, @samspsychicpowers for some SPN stuff, and the side blog that's basically my main blog at this point: @asterekmess which is where all my Teen Wolf and Sterek stuff goes.

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

Uhhh, I've been on this blog since August of 2014, but my old blog was started in....March 2013. I've been around a fucking while.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

HA. Fuck no. Do I look that organized? Y'all get three hours of spam reblogs, and then I disappear into the aether. How it should be. XD

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

This is essentially the same as I said for question one. Sister found the old blog, and I needed a new one. I tend to make my side blogs for more pointed material, so that my main blog can have like...the amalgamation of general stuff i like, and then I can keep the fandomy content more concentrated into the side blogs.

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Originally, I did not have this icon. I had this pic I found online with these Beautiful bronze wings against a black background. But then, around the time I decided I wanted to sort of...simplify things and make my username for my online stuff all the same, with all the same pfp's so that I was easily recognized, etc, I realized that....that picture was not mine. I didn't design it or anything. And i couldn't find its source to ask for permission to use it. And it started making me feel shitty for using it in the first place. So I spent like an hour and a half trying to make my Own Wing pic to use, and failed miserably. As a last ditch effort, i went through my 'artistic' photos on my phone and found this one. I adore sky pics, and cloud pics, etc, so it was super my thing, and I just slapped it on there. Still not sick of it. XD I also went to my side blogs and changed out the pfp's for photos that I'd taken, except the sterek blog, because that one is literally just a black triskelion on a white background, and it's a pretty non-specific thing. I would have used a picture of my Own Tattoo, but it's very hard to get a picture of my back that doesn't have weird lighting, and I'm just too lazy.

7. Why did you choose your header?

All my headers are also photos that I've taken or art pieces that I've made. In the case of this blog, it's a picture I made with a 'galaxy maker' online thingy. I love green. I love blue. Ta dah. In general i just try to find something that gives me the right vibes or has the right color palette to match what it's for. (orange and blue for sterek, trees for merlin, and wings for spn)

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

On this blog? I.....just spent two hours digging through all my posts tagged 'personal' bc i wanted the post that I MADE with the most notes...and i have no idea. I mostly respond to other posts, rather than making my own. The highest note count i can find is a post i made abt having friends that aren't in your fandom, which means you can use inspirational quotes to help them through tough times without them realizing ur quoting doctor who or something. 22 notes. *fingerguns* I'm famous, i know.

9. How many mutuals do you have ?

Is...is that a thing i can check?? or do you expect me to hand count??

10. How many followers do you have right now?

Uhghhghghgh, this blog has 439 at the moment, and i'm pretty sure not a lot of those are porn bots, bc i usually screen new followers for it. a lot of them have come over from my sterek blog though.

11. How many people do you follow?

hehe....uh...36.....one of which is my husband....

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

I don't even know what the requirements for something being a 'shitpost' are....but i think no?

EDIT: I Take it Back, I just found a post I made with "Hot Take: PIneapples are an honorary citrus fruit" and I believe that counts? So YES.

13. How often do you use tumblr?

Uh, nearly every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes i forget it exists for a couple days, though. It's my only social media. I dont use twitter or facebook or instagram. I Have Accounts, but I literally dont open those apps more than once a month.

14. Did you have a fight /argument with another  blog ? Who won?

My sterek blog gets in fights more often than it should. XD I'm feisty. And I dunno who wins, i think no one. it's tumblr. there's no real winning or losing.

15. How do feel about “ you need to reblog  this” post?

Oh 90% of the time I'll fucking ignore it on principle. I come to tumblr to enjoy myself and escape. I refuse to guilt the shit out of myself and my followers for not reblogging something deemed Essential. I don't care how deep the topic is or how heavy. Sometimes that's WHY I'm not reblogging it, because I don't want that shit on my blog. The other 10% of the time, I'll go to most recent reblog that Doesn't have the guilty shit on it, and then reblog that.

16. Do you like tag games?

It sounds narcissistic, but I like being tagged in them and doing them. I just Really Really Really hate tagging anyone else.

17. Do you like ask games?

Yup, I think they're fun, though I really don't think anyone wants to know this much about me.

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Uhhh...I have no clue. I think...I think I might be the tumblr famous mutual, or at least my sterek blog is....

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Yup. My husband.

20. Tagged?

Uh, no one. makes me anxious. XD If someone wants to do it, go ahead and claim i tagged you, i promise no one'll call ur bluff.

[raysofcrosby]

LITTLE DO YOU KNOW PT. 12

"𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘬𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺." ━ 𝐉.𝐑.𝐑. 𝐓𝐨𝐥��𝐢𝐞𝐧, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠

gif credit (x)

series masterlist

requested: yes | no

warnings: nope.

word count: 6,844 [once again, unedited lol]

authors note: THIS IS IT!! the finale of my tyler seguin series– ‘little do you know!’ this series honestly started out as a little fic idea i wrote down in my notes app on a road trip this time last year. i didn’t think much would come of it and when i decided to post it on here, i figured it’d flame away. but yall literally took it to a whole ‘nother level and i love yall for that so so much. you’ve sent messages, reblogged, liked and it’s still mind-blowing to me. i’m so happy that you guys enjoyed this series as much as i’ve loved writing it– and while it saddens me that it’s over, i can’t wait to bring you guys more material. okok enough of my rambling, here’s the finale!

Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip

That was all that echoed through your mind the moment your name was called for you to receive your diploma. You hadn't even thought about that being a possibility until last night, at yours and Kennedy's joint graduation dinner, when your brothers brought up how funny it would be if the two of you face-planted in front of the huge crowd.

And when you crossed the stage with grace, taking in the cheers that followed your name as you stood beside the University President with your diploma in hand– you swore that this was the happiest moment of your life. When you got back to your seat and the rest of the names continued to get called, you couldn't help but spend that time, looking at your folder and thinking back on your last few months.

You rang in the new year at a team party hosted by the Stars organization that was attended by the team, the staff, and their friends and family. It was nice, coming off of an amazing Christmas spent with your family and being down in Dallas. You had left the city, days earlier in the worst amount of pain and dreaded having to come back to it once school started again. Yet being there, waiting for the ball to drop, surrounded by your parents, your friends and the Dallas Stars, was enough to make you forget all about that pain. And with Tyler on your arm, kissing you into the new year, you truly couldn't wait to see just what 2020 could bring into your life.

And if the Stars 4-2 Winter Classic win over Nashville wasn't a sign of the good that the Universe planned to come your way– well, you didn't want to think about that. You didn't believe it when everyone said that the months would fly by as soon as the spring semester started– but they truly had. Your classes had kept you busy during the day while working the Stars games kept you busy at night. You had kept true to your word, and both you and Kennedy had befriended Paisley– the three of you becoming close in just a short amount of time. When the All-Star break came and your many, many votes for Jamie to be one of the 'last men in' were ignored, Tyler offered you a spot on the trip.

It was one thing, knowing that he'd rather have spent that entire week with you somewhere, doing anything and everything but thinking about hockey. And being in St. Louis in the middle of winter didn't really scream 'yes, please!' But taking the weekend off away from school and supporting him and watching him do what he loves while inspiring all of hockey's next generation of players...was enough to make you want to go.

As the weeks went on, Dave and Craig let you take on more and more responsibility as you could, and ones that didn't require you needing the board certification that you were already planning to take. They gave you advice on applying to Masters programs and Craig, sometimes even let you take his place on the bench during games. It wasn't a frequent thing, maybe once or twice every two to three weeks– but it was still cool as hell.

When spring break rolled around, you and Kennedy rubbed it into the faces of your Stars friends, when you announced your spring break plans with Paisley. While most of them had been to Cabo once or twice before, it was a getaway most of them desired for since the toll of the season was starting to weigh them down. Before you knew it, finals week was here and then boom...graduation.

In the last five months, your entire senior year flashed right before your eyes– and the moments that stood out the most always had the most important people in your life.

Your friends.

Your brothers and er- adopted brothers.

And Tyler...and the puppers.

The sound of cheering knocked you out of your thoughts and you saw all of your classmates standing up around you. You followed suit, holding onto the diploma tightly as you looked around you. You couldn't wrap your mind around how four years had come to an end so quickly. All of the weekends, the study nights, the parties off campus– everything, your entire college experience had wrapped up in four hours. As the crowd began to disperse and everyone went in search of their families, you looked around for Kennedy and Paisley, heading towards the meeting spot that the three of you had designated beforehand.

The Texas heat practically slapped you in the face as you used your diploma as a way to block the sun. Leaning out by a pillar just outside the auditorium, your two friends swarmed you from either side, the three of you hugging and trying not to cry. Even though Paisley had come into your friend group so late, it was like she was a missing piece of your friendship puzzle that well, you never knew you needed. When the three of you pulled away from one another, it only took one passing look before you burst into laughter.

"Ugh, why are we like this?" Kennedy laughed, sniffling and wiping her cheeks.

"I'm just happy that I'm no longer in that arena. You'd think with as expensive as the tuition is, they'd have decent air conditioning." Paisley added on, taking off her cap and wiping at her forehead. She turned off to the side and nodded her head. "I see my family, but we're all still on for lunch, right?"

Kennedy and you nodded as she waved and walked off, disappearing into the crowd. You relaxed more against the pillar, looking at your surroundings once more. "I can't believe it's over."

"Oh God, don't you start that," Kennedy came up next to you and plopped back against the pillar. "Get out of your emotions, Y/N. This isn't the time, especially today!"

And she was right, today was not the best day to get all in your feelings and be sad about your college experience coming to an end. Today...or rather, tonight, was so much more important.

"THERE'S MY FAVORITE GRADUATE!"

You and Kennedy looked up to see Big Rig towering over the crowd of people as his frame practically parted the crowd. Kennedy's parents were drifting behind him, all smiles as Big Rig carried flowers in his hands. "Hi, favorite boyfriend."

You rolled your eyes as he picked her up and spun her around carefully, kissing her before placing her back down onto the ground. "Favorite boyfriend? Are you telling me you have more than one?"

"Eh, I forgot about what's his name for the weekends," she joked, standing on her tippy toes and kissing him again. "You're my number one, though."

He smiled and handed her his flowers before turning to you, "ah, my second favorite graduate and first favorite Benn!" He wrapped you up in a hug and lifted you off the ground. "Don't worry, I got you flowers as well." He put you back down and handed you the other bouquet he was carrying.

"Hey, the only one who brings her flowers is me!" You turned to see Tyler standing there all dressed up with a smile on his face. When you looked past him, you saw the rest of your group stopped and talking to Kennedy's parents.

"Hey now, I'm more than okay with receiving gifts," you smiled, as Tyler made his way over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. "But your flowers are my favorite."

He leaned in and kissed you, pulling away and tapping your graduation cap before bringing the bouquet in between the two of you. "There's a little gift in there too, from the puppers and I."

You looked down in the bouquet to see a black box with a small, red bow sitting in the middle of it. You picked it up and then looked back at Tyler with a raised eyebrow. "But Tyler, I just graduated college...I'm too young to get married."

The way his eyes bulged out of his head was enough to make you want to double over in laughter. When he registered the sarcasm in his voice, he rolled his eyes and nodded. "Haha, very funny, Y/N," he tucked the bouquet in the crook of his arm and nodded down at the box. "But just so you know, my proposal would be 100x better than this."

Your heart fluttered at the thought of Tyler proposing to you. Sure, you were nowhere near ready for marriage and neither was Tyler. And when you said it, it was a total joke. But the thought of it...was still a nice one. You looked back down at the box and lifted up the lid, revealing a stunning gold, heart-shaped locket. "Oh, Tyler..."

"Go ahead, open it." He smiled, nodding his head down at the locket before looking back at you. You pulled the necklace out of the box and opened the locket, revealing two pictures tucked on the inside. "Cassidy and Candace helped me cut out the pictures, I guess my first-grade arts and crafts projects proved that scissors and I don't go together well."

You smiled down at the locket, taking in the pictures Tyler had chosen. On the left, was a picture of the three goodest Seguin boys sitting at attention, all smiles and tongues. On the right, was probably your favorite picture you and Tyler had ever taken. It was at the family skate for the winter classic, the two of you had been skating around and having fun, and after beating Tyler in the first of many races, he had wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him– preventing you from skating away. You were laughing, trying to wrestle out of his grip as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, blowing raspberries and only making you squirm more. Kennedy had snapped the candid, right at the moment, you had turned to look at him with a smile on his face and seconds before he leaned in to kiss you.

Literally a picture-perfect moment.

"I got it engraved on the back too," he reached out and flipped the locket over, revealing the small engraving on the backside. "They're coordinates."

"Coordinates? But to where?" you smiled, running your finger over the numbers.

"Dallas," he nodded, pointing at the engraving just below that.

My favorite memories and more. I love you.

You looked down at the locket, continuously running your thumb over the small engraving as you tried to hold back the tears. It was incredibly sweet of him to do this. At most, you expected flowers– but not something as sentimental as this. Yet as always, Tyler was always giving you more than you expected or felt like you deserved.

"I love you." You smiled, finally looking up at him before handing him the necklace and turning around, holding your hair up. "Can you?"

He handed the flowers off to Big Rig before placing the locket around your neck. The moment he clasped it off and you felt the weight of the necklace rest right at your chest, you turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him. "I'm proud of you and I love you, Y/N. I hope you know that."

You nudged his nose with your own and smiled, "I know."

He hugged you closer to him, kissing you again until someone cleared their throat, interrupting the moment. "This is nice and all, but let me hug my sister, Seggy."

Tyler stepped away, taking the flowers back from Big Rig as Jamie, Jordie, and Jenn huddled behind him. Tyler and Jamie were back to normal, what happened over Christmas playing a huge part in it. Jamie, of course, had a few understandable ground rules: no extensive PDA in front of him and no discussing bedroom activities in the locker room, both of which you understood completely.

You were swarmed by your three older siblings, all three wrapping you up into a big hug and refusing to give you any air to breathe– but you were okay with it. You experienced a time where you knew that one of them had wanted nothing to do with you at one point, and you never wanted to experience that again. So this, lung crushing hug– was perfect.

"Okay, okay, give her some air you three," your mom said, swatting them away as yours and Kennedy's families group together. "Gosh, look at the two of you...college graduates."

"Yeah, honestly we never thought you'd make it here– OW!" Jordie said, glaring at your mom. "What? It's the truth? Don't you remember how homesick they were freshman year?"

"Oh yeah!" Jamie laughed, pointing at you and Kennedy. "Family weekend, you guys had an intervention with the two of them, telling them that they couldn't camp out in Kennedy's living room anymore on the weekends."

"And look how much gas money we saved on that," Kennedy's dad chimed in, wrapping his arm around her mom. "You girls sure have grown up these last few years...it makes us proud."

"Now about this Hawaii trip..." you smiled, looking at your two older brothers.

Jamie and Jordie looked at one another and Jamie shook his head. "I told you it wouldn't take her long to bring it up."

"Well, you're the one who ruined the surprise."

"Okay, but how was I supposed to know–"

"Boys, boys, boys," Kennedy said, walking over to the two older Benn boys. "Why argue, when you can give us the details on our extravagant, Hawaiian vacation?"

"Girls, we'll discuss it over lunch when we're with Paisley too, can the two of you wait that long?" Your mom asked, shaking her head.

"The lunch that four said big hockey players won't be at because they have to take a pre-game nap?" You smiled, standing up straighter. "Sounds great to me."

"Speaking of the game tonight, we're excited to see you guys play!" Kennedy's mom said, nodding at Big Rig. "Finally get to see the four boys we've heard so much about, in action."

"Please Mrs. Stewart, don't boost their egos any more than they already are." You teased, bumping into Tyler.

"Okay, okay enough talk! If we want to make our reservations we'll need to get some pictures done! Boys– er, boyfriends, you guys with the two girls first." Your dad directed, ushering the conversation forward.

Everyone cleared out in the circle as Big Rig and Tyler came to take a picture with Kennedy and you. Tyler stood on your right as Big Rig stood in between you and Kennedy, all four of you standing close and looking at the cameras, ready for the picture. "I'm kind of jealous of their hats," Tyler said, smiling through his words.

"I know, it's kind of depressing to know that our girlfriends are hotter and smarter than us, now."

"And you better not forget it," You added in, scrunching your nose as Tyler.

"Yeah, but after tonight, we'll be able to say that our boyfriends are the 2020 Western Conference Champions, so which is better?"

Tyler and Big Rig looked at each other and nodded their heads. "Hot girlfriends."

You and Kennedy nudged them both in the ribs before your parents made you take another picture.

❒❒❒❒

Your post-grad lunch surrounded by family and friends was exactly what you needed to take your mind off of the end of your undergrad years and especially, tonight. Jamie, Big Rig, Jordie, and Tyler weren't originally supposed to tag along, but never like to be left out, they opted to join your already huge lunch party. More than once, you often caught yourself slipping out of conversations and just looking around at the table, wondering just how you ended up in your current spot. You had two amazing girlfriends, their families, your own family, your siblings and of course, Tyler.

After the lunch had ended, your four hockey boys went their separate ways to prepare themselves for tonight's game. Jamie had offered up his place for everyone to relax before the game with the one rule that nobody bothered him the moment he went upstairs to take his nap. It was comical, watching him try to lecture the three pairs of parents on how important a pre-game nap was. So, all three families went to Jamie's place and settled down in the living room, mingling and talking about how excited they were to watch the game from the suite that Jamie, Tyler and Big Rig had gotten for the big group. You had chosen to let Tyler have his rest back at his place, deciding to tag along with your parents back to Jamie's house.

And that's when it happened. No sooner than you guys stepped foot into his front door, your mom practically spazzed out, "Oh shoot, I almost forgot!" She rushed into the kitchen, bringing back two envelopes for you. "These came in for you just before we left home. I meant to give them to you at lunch, but I forgot them here this morning."

"What are they?"

"Ooh, maybe it's cash. A million dollars perhaps, Mrs. B?" Kennedy joked, plopping down next to Katie on Jamie's couch.

"Oh no, that'd be a gift from her two loving brothers," your mom laughed, handing over the envelopes to you. "Go ahead, open them."

You took the envelopes from her and flipped them over, seeing two familiar emblems and names written in the top left corner of each. You looked at your parents with wide eyes and they both just smiled. "Do you think...?"

"Only one way to find out."

You took a deep, calming breath before opening the first envelope. You closed your eyes, unfolding the letter before opening it again and letting your eyes dwindle down the paper. "Oh my God...I got in," you let the letter fall from your face as you looked at your parents. "I got in!!"

"Where, where? Which one?" Kennedy cheered, springing off the couch as everyone maneuvered into the living room.

"Houston," you shook your head in shock. "I got into their Masters Athletic Training program."

"Oh God, please stop getting degrees," Jamie groaned, coming in from the kitchen with a water bottle. "It's bad enough you've already got a jump on us, but one more?"

"You can go to school too, Jamie," Katie replied, rolling her eyes. "Open the second one!"

"I bet you got into there too," Jennie smiled, taking a seat on the couch armrest.

"I doubt it," you sighed, looking at the second envelope. "It's USF. They're one of the top programs in the country."

"Well, you'll never know if you don't open it," Jamie replied, coming up by your mom. "And please do it soon, I need my nap."

You stared at the USF logo in the left corner, trying to feel the envelope as if you'd be able to tell it was a rejection letter without opening it. You had only applied to two programs– U of Houston and USF, with USF being your number one choice. Turning the envelope over, you ripped the seal and pulled the folded letter out. You stared at the back of the paper, trying to build the nerve to unfold the letter when you looked up and immediately made eye contact with Jamie.

He sighed and came over, holding out his hand for you to hand the letter over. You placed it in his hand and without hesitation, he unfolded it and brought it up to his face. You watched as his eyes skimmed over the letter, his face showing no sign of emotion. "Well shit," he sighed, sounding defeated.

"No? It's no isn't it?"

"No, it looks like I'll be seeing you in Tampa instead of Houston," he turned the paper around and smiled. "You got in."

Your eyes widened as you read the first word of the letter over and over again. 'Congratulations!' You looked up at Jamie and jumped into his arms. "I got in!"

He hugged you tight and spun you around a little as the rest of the group was all smiles and cheers. "I'm proud of you, kid. I know you've worked hard for this," he put you back onto the ground and handed over your letter. "And you've earned every bit of it."

You were in disbelief, you had actually gotten into both Masters programs. As you stared at your two letters, you couldn't help but feel incredibly proud of the work you'd put in your last four years of undergrad. And as soon as the cheers and voices of everyone around you faded out, the thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind since you applied for the programs, came forward.

If you went to USF...then what about Tyler?

❒❒❒❒

The atmosphere in the arena was insane, and why wouldn't it be? Tonight was the potential final game of the Western Conference Championship. Both of your brothers were playing tonight and the Stars were leading the series 3-0.

Needless to say, tonight was a very, very important night.

So important, that you hadn't even thought to tell anyone besides those who were at the house when you found out about your acceptance into the two masters programs. You figured that after the game was the best time to tell Big Rig and Tyler, not before they had one of the biggest games of their career. That, and it gave you a little more time to really consider what to do about choosing a program. USF was your number one choice and you only applied to U of Houston as a backup. But now that you've gotten into both, what the hell were you supposed to do?

You spent all of that quality pre-game relaxation time asking Kennedy and Paisley what they thought you should do. You and Tyler had just started officially dating only months ago and now there was a huge potential that you would be moving 15 hours away? How the hell would that affect your relationship? You didn't even want to think about that, because you had already almost lost Tyler once...you didn't want to risk it again.

But you wanted to go to USF, so badly. It was as if your brain and your heart were tugging you in two different directions. One being, that if you choose to go to USF for the next two years, your relationship with Tyler would be up in the air and fall apart as quickly as it had come together the first time. The other being, that you couldn't let a relationship dictate over what would be the best for you and your education. The battle inside of you was at such a high, but the moment that you walked into the training room and heard the chatter and laughter of the boys waiting to be helped, it was as if that was washed away and the real worry at hand took over.

As serious of a game, this was going to be, you'd never know it by the way the boys were in the training room or even down the corridors doing their pre-game stuff. You were immediately greeted with cheers and congratulations, followed by the 'smarty-pants' and 'nerd' chirps. But you loved every moment of it because it was coming from them and you knew that they meant it in a heartfelt way.

You were already finished with helping Big Rig and his stretches when Tyler had come in and requested you to tape his ankles, of course. You were already done with one when the door opened and Dave walked in with Craig behind him, both coming back from helping some of the guys out in the hallway.

"Y/N! We just heard!" Craig smiled, walking past as Jamie followed in behind home.

"You got into USF? Great job, kid! Their program is one of the best in the country," Dave added, coming to a stop by you and patting you on the shoulder. "And as a graduation present from Craig and I, you get to be with us on the bench today. Get a taste of the real playoff run stuff." He walked by and went to his desk, plopping down into his chair. "Also, if you have to do some more internship stuff down there, Tom Mulligan is a good friend of mine. I can see if I can get you one there if you'd like?"

"That'd be cool, thanks, Dave." You smiled, turning your attention back to Tyler's ankle as the guys around you cheered even more for you.

"What? You got into USF? That's awesome!" Tyler asked, bending his foot to get you to look up at him. "Wait, what's that? I've never heard of that school here..."

"That's because it's not in Texas," you took a deep breath, looking back down at his foot and mentally cursing Jamie for telling Dave and Craig. This is not how you wanted Tyler to find out, ideally...he'd find out eh...weeks from now. "It's in Tampa."

"But–"

"You're all done." Before he could say anything else, you finish wrapping his ankle and tap the tape, signaling that he's done. You went to stand up when Pavs called you over, asking if you could tape him too.

Tyler sat there on the table for a moment, watching you and still looking confused before finally hopping off, returning his heating pad and walking out of the training room. You could still feel the tension in your shoulders as you went on and helped Pavs and then a few more of the guys, and though Tyler wasn't in the room with you, it was as if you could still feel his gaze on you. When the training room cleared out the closer it got to warm-ups, you leaned back against a table and took a deep breath, letting it out seconds later and feeling yourself relax.

You weren't even playing in the game tonight and you were nervous. It felt a little weird, having both brothers having to play each other. Sure, they'd done it before during the regular season...but this was different. This was to get to the Stanley Cup Finals– and one brother would go, while the other one wouldn't. It made you anxious. You check your watch to see you have some time to grab a water bottle from the lounge before the game started and you left the training room.

No sooner than you stepped out of the room and started to make your way down to the lounge, were you then pulled away by your wrist and cornered by Tyler. "Jesus, Tyler," you sighed. "You scared me."

"Sorry, I just wanted to talk," he said, an arm extended out towards the wall and holding himself up. "So what's up? I can tell something's up with you."

"Really? Oh no, uh," you coughed, shaking your head. "It must be the nerves of being on the bench tonight."

He rolled his eyes, "nice try, but you've been on the bench before." He let his arm down and rested his shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "Care to try again?"

"So, like...I applied to two schools, one here in Houston and the other...USF." You sighed, your shoulders collapsing as you caught sight of the locket resting just below the open collar of your polo. "USF is one of the top programs in the country and U of Houston was my backup...and I– I'm just trying to figure out where to go."

"Do you want to go to USF?" Tyler asked nonchalantly.

"Eh."

"Eh?" He laughed, standing up straight. "You just said it was your top choice, so obviously you want to go there. Why aren't you more excited?"

You huffed and crossed your arms, biting the inside of your cheek before looking at him. "Because it's in Florida, it's a two-year program, we just started dating and I–"

He tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow again. "And you?"

Defeated, you slumped back against the wall, staring back down at your shoes. "I don't want to leave us...you. I just–" you turned to him, uncrossing your arms and raising them halfway, only to let them drop back down at your sides. "This is new and I don't want to ruin it."

He opened his mouth to say something when Jamie's voice erupted from the hall. "Seggy come on, let's go!"

"Hey, Y/N, can you help me unpack this tape really quick?" Craig called out, moments later.

You sighed, looking back down at the floor when Tyler reached for your hand and squeezed it, causing you to look up at him. "We'll have to talk about this after the game, okay?" You nodded and he leaned in, kissed your cheek, whispered "congratulations," and then disappeared down the hall with your brother.

Okay, okay that didn't go as bad as you thought it would. Now it's just time to survive the game and maybe you'd end up surviving the 'talk' you and Tyler were going to have afterward....maybe.

❒❒❒❒

Never has there been a time where you wanted to throw a water bottle as a ref or a linesman's face, yet in this game, it was a constant need almost ever five minutes. You were agitated for both sides, really. Calls were being missed, penalties being blatantly ignored– God, it led you wondering how people even managed to survive playoff hockey. Even though you could feel your blood pressure rise with every play, there was no better feeling than being there on the bench and watching it all unfold in front of you.

Yeah, this is definitely what you wanted to do for the rest of your life.

You've been around hockey your entire life. Whether it was watching your older brothers play or even taking a shot at it yourself– hockey was a constant thing in your family. You've watched enough games in your 22 years of life that could fill an average person's full desire for hockey. But this, being there on the bench, knowing that you're the person that helps the players keep up with their performance and take care of their bodies– was a whole ‘nother thing.

It was a never-ending rush of adrenaline and you had Dave and Craig to thank for this entire experience. Why Craig decided to hang back in the training room and let you take his place on the bench, you had absolutely no idea. But you weren't going to complain, one bit.

Your eyes drifted up towards the jumbotron and saw the time remaining in the second period. there was only a minute left and the Stars still had a 2-1 lead. Dobby was a brick wall, you hadn't seen him play like this and his regular season stats were already fire. As time dwindled down and the shifts were changing you heard a whistle blow and play stopped. Dave looked at you and nodded his head. "You go to Jamie, and I'll go help, Klinger."

"Me?!" You squealed, holding onto the fanny pack rested around your waist.

"Yes, you– it's okay. Jamie's tough, probably nothing too serious." He replied, stepping out onto the ice as Rads helped him over.

You felt your heart begin to race as Bishop opened the door for you and you stepped out onto the ice. Big Rig was right there to help you over to Jamie and Tyler skated over soon after, making it a faster trip over to your brother. The adrenaline was surely pumping through you now as you quickly looked out into the crowd and saw the thousands of people surrounding you. "Oh wow," you gulped, holding onto the towel in your hand.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Big Rig laughed as they brought you to a stop in front of Jamie, who was pushing himself up onto his knees.

"What's up big boy?" You asked, looking down at your brother before crouching down on to the ice. He was bleeding on his forehead, just beneath his helmet. "Holy fuck you're bleeding!"

"Well yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what the red stuff is, Y/N." Big Rig chuckled, resting against his stick.

"I think the fucking puck nailed Klinger and ricocheted and hit me," he sucked in air through his teeth as he checked in on Klinger. When his eyes settled back on you he chuckled. "Wow, I guess they just send anyone out on the ice these days, huh?"

"Dave said it wasn't this serious, though!" You panicked slightly, bending down more to get a glimpse at his cut as you reached for the helmet. "This is why mom got the two of you visors for Christmas, you bonehead."

You examined the cut to make sure his helmet hadn't chipped and gone into the wound. You pressed the towel against his head as he laughed. "Shut up or I'll ask Craig to let me stitch you up too– that should be fun."

His eyes went wide at your suggestion, just as Jordie came to a stop by your group. "How's he doing doc? Is he going to lose a few brain cells?"

Oh, how the announcers for the game must be losing their minds– three Benn's on the ice in a Western Conference Championship game. Talk about social media gold.

"It wouldn't matter if he did," you said, nodding back down at Jamie. "I'd still be the smartest in the family."

Jamie groaned and started to stand up without you, but you kept the pressure on his forehead until he was fully standing and took over the pressure on his own. "Yeah, yeah, shut up the both of you."

You walked alongside him as Tyler and Big Rig followed you back, Jordie trailing not too far behind. When you reached the bench, Jamie walked back to the training room and you stepped back into the bench. "Looking good out here, Y/N. I guess the degree hasn't gone to waste, huh?" Jordie joked.

"Oh yeah," you laughed, tugging on our fanny pack and motioning towards the tunnel. "Putting good use to it all seven hours I've had it."

Jordie just winked as he skated off back towards his own bench, just as Dave and Klinger came off of the ice. Klinger looked fine, but since the period was ending soon, he was probably going back to get ahead of the crowd and get checked on. "Everything okay?" Dave asked, nodding his head down the tunnel.

"Oh yeah, just a cut. It doesn't need any stitches or anything, it can just be cleaned, if at most glued. But don't tell Jamie I said that, I already said Craig would let me stitch him up."

Dave threw his head back and laughed as the two of you turned towards the ice as play resumed. He crossed his arms, staring out at the ice before nodding ahead. "I meant what I said, Y/N. I can give you a recommendation to Tom. You've got the heart for this, the skills and you're a hard worker."

You bit the inside of your cheek, still unsure if you were even going to be in that area, though the offer was nice. "Can I get back to you on that?"

Dave nodded as the period came to an end and the players made their way down the tunnel. "Sure thing, kid. But I can tell you one thing, even just based on seeing you in the training room and then just now, you're a natural for this."

You stood there for a few moments longer, taking in the empty ice and the full arena. You took a deep breath and sighed as his words replayed in your mind.

'You're a natural.'

'You've got the heart for this.’

'The skills...'

You tapped your hand against the wall and smiled, before turning away from the ice and walking back down the tunnel.

❒❒❒❒

This couldn't be real.

You had to be fucking dreaming right now.

The Stars were headed to the Stanley Cup Finals and Tyler had scored the game-winning goal in the last shootout round, to send them there. The moment that the puck flew past Markstrom and the team erupted on of the bench, you felt like running onto the ice with them. Instead, you were attacked with a hug from Big Rig before he followed his teammates off of the bench and on to the ice. It was surreal, hearing the cheers erupt all around you.

It was almost deafening.

You couldn't stop shaking even as you watched the ceremony of the boys receiving their hats from the NHL and then the Clarence S. Campbell Bowl from the NHL commissioner. You wanted to cry when you saw Jamie lead the team over to get their picture behind it. Even by the time that everything had calmed down and the families were allowed to come on to the ice to congratulate their players, it still felt like it was a dream.

When you finally got onto the ice with your family, the whole thing was a big blur. It was like you hopped from picture to picture, congratulations leaving your lips time after time as your heart swelled with pride at what your team had accomplished. You were standing back, watching your parents snap pictures of your brother and Katie and relaxing, taking in the scene of the fans still cheering on the boys.

"Y/N! Y/N!" You looked to your left to see Candace and Cassidy both headed your way with big smiles on their faces. The three of you hugged as you looked around for Tyler, knowing that he was probably done taking pictures with his family.

"Can you believe it?" Cassidy smiled, holding onto your arm. "They're going to the Stanley Cup finals!"

"Who would've thought that our average player of a brother would be the won to score the game-winning goal that sends them to the finals, huh?" Candace joked, her eyebrows raising as she looked past you.

You turned to see Tyler making his way over to you and you felt your cheeks redden and your heart race. "I think that's our cue to leave, but come find us afterward! We want pictures." Cassidy smiled, squeezing your arm before pulling Candace away.

You laughed as they walked away just as Tyler had reached you. He was hearing his hat proudly on his head and had the grin you loved so much plastered on his face. "Well hey, there champio–"

Before you could even say anything, he sweeps you up into his arms and kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pouring every bit of love you had for him into the kiss before he pulled away, still holding you in his arms. "I want you to go," he huffed, out of breath.

"Huh?" You asked, tilting your head to the side.

"To USF. I want you to go."

"But–"

"No, no buts." He placed you back down onto the ice and kept his arms around your waist, looking down at you. "This is your dream. That's the best program in the country and don't try to tell me different because I even heard Dave say it."

Your jaw dropped, still stunned at what he was saying. "But–" He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you sighed. "But I don't want to leave you..."

"We can hang out when we come to play Tampa. I can visit, you can visit and we have our summers." He took the hat off of his head and placed it down onto yours, adjusting it with a smile. "Besides, I'd be able to brag about how my smoking hot, and genius girlfriend got into one of the top athletic training programs in the country."

You felt your eyes brim with tears once again before you brought him back down and kissed him again. When you pulled away, you kept your eyes closed and your forehead pressed to his. "I love you."

"And I love you," he replied, kissing your forehead before pulling away from you and intertwining his fingers with yours. "Now come on, I need a picture with my lucky charm of a girlfriend and the Clarence S. Campbell bowl so I can post it on Instagram and brag about the both of you."

You threw your head back and laughed, as you tucked yourself further into his side, not even caring that you guys were surrounded by the press and the fans. "You're such a dweeb."

"Yeah, but I'm your–"

"Don't even say it, Seguin," you chuckled, looking up at him. He just tapped the brim of the hat on your head, knocking it partially over your eyes before giving you a wink and that childlike grin that was enough to bring the butterflies in your stomach alive.

[pikapeppa]

Professor Solas AU: Wrong

Chapter 7 of Inadvisable (Solas +Abelas + Felassan modern university AU) is posted! 

In which Tamaris decides whether to bother replying to Felassan’s message, and Solas talks shop with Abelas... then fantasizes thinks about Nare.

~4500 words; read on AO3 instead.

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

- TAMARIS -

Tamaris opened the apartment door for Feynriel and gave him a stern look. “All right, follow those aftercare instructions properly. No swimming, no scented moisturizer shit.”

Feynriel nodded and smiled, then winced. “Ow. Smiling hurts my face.”

Tamaris smirked. “Yeah, that’s what happens when you get tattoos on your cheeks. It’ll stop hurting in a couple of days.” She tapped the aftercare instruction pamphlet in his hand. “If you have questions, problems, you call me, okay?”

He nodded and stepped out of the apartment. “Okay. Thanks again, Tamaris. For the history lesson and everything as well as the vallaslin.”

“Anytime,” she said. She waited for him to make his way down the stairs, then closed the door behind him and went to clean up the detritus of their tattoo session.

She padded down the hallway that led toward Athera’s bedroom and turned into the fourth bedroom, which did double-duty as her tattoo studio and Nare’s art studio. She threw away the crumpled witch hazel and alcohol wipes and the unused tattoo ink, and as she placed the used needle into the sharps container, she made a mental note to change the nearly-full container to a new one. 

She sighed wearily as she wiped the counter down with bleach; she already had another full sharps container in the corner, so it was probably time to take them all to the pharmacy down the street to dispose of them properly. 

When the space was clean once more, Tamaris plopped down onto her padded stool with a sigh, then reached for her phone. Just as she was about to pick it up, she remembered the message she’d received that morning.

Her belly jolted. She hesitated for a second, then picked up her phone and swiped through to her PMs on Instagram.

felassan 08:13AM Deep mushroom sometime?

She huffed to herself. She could practically see his shit-eating grin in the letters on her screen. 

She pursed her lips as she studied the short message. In all honesty, she was surprised to hear from him. After coming home from the mixer last night with Athera and Nare, Tamaris had spent some time wondering why the fuck Felassan had left her in the alley instead of coming home with her, and she could only conclude that she must have offended him somehow. She had a tendency to do that, after all; when you were as short-tempered and indelicate as Tamaris could be, pissing people off kind of came with the territory. 

It must have been when she called him a playboy. Everything seemed like it was going fine until that point. But that’s hardly an insult if it’s true, she thought in disgruntlement. Despite Felassan’s protests that he wasn’t a smooth operator, she didn’t believe him. She had no reason to believe him, after all. He was a handsome and charming man who seemed to know all the right things to say to soften her up, and the way he kissed her was nothing short of perfectly seductive, so of course she didn’t believe him.

Tamaris ultimately went to bed last night concluding that even if she had offended Felassan, it was for the best. Someone that handsome and smooth-talking could only be full of shit, so she was better off without him.

But then she’d woken up around ten to find that he had messaged her early this morning. The fact that he’d contacted her had thrown her off so much that she’d closed the app and not replied. 

Now, almost five hours after he’d sent that message, Tamaris still hadn’t replied. And she wasn’t sure she even should. What was the point, after all? She didn’t want anything other than simple and uncomplicated sex. This contact with Felassan was already more complicated than it needed to be, with his whole disappearing act last night followed by this coy message on Instagram this morning.

Too much trouble,  she thought, and she closed the app once more. But as she sat there on her stool with her phone dangling from her hand, she couldn’t help but think about some of the things he’d said last night. 

He’d said she was looking for a reason to smile. It sounded like a smooth line, but there was something about the way he said it that made her think he actually meant it. Something about the look on his face, like he somehow knew what it was like to be looking for a reason to be optimistic and hopeful and all that shit. 

And if he really did mean it, if he really did think she’d been searching the for a reason to smile…

All the more reason to avoid him, she thought grumpily. The last thing she needed was someone who was going to act like he knew her based solely on the look on her face. 

She sat idly on her stool for a few minutes. Then she opened Instagram and swiped through to Felassan’s profile.

It was devoid of any helpful insights, unfortunately. His profile was empty with no photos at all, not even a profile photo.

Fucking weird, she thought. She stared at her screen for a moment longer, then swiped back to her PMs. 

felassan 8:13AM Deep mushroom sometime?

She stared at the message for a moment. Then, before she could change her mind, she replied.

tamaris_tattoos 12:43PM  your empty insta makes you look like a predator. or a grandma

She minimized the app without waiting for a response and checked her emails instead. She read through her emails for a minute, then returned to Instagram. 

felassan 12:43PM Is that how you speak to all of your potential clients?

She scoffed before replying.

tamaris_tattoos 12:45PM shut the fuck up. you’re not a potential client

felassan 12:45PM Not with that charmingly rude attitude, I’m not.

tamaris_tattoos 12:45PM what do you want then

felassan 12:45PM A repeat of last night wouldn’t go amiss.

Her heart skipped a beat, but he was typing another message. 

felassan 12:45PM The deep mushroom, I mean. Whoever your source is, the quality of their product is excellent.}

Tamaris smirked despite herself. He was such a cheeky shithead.

tamaris_tattoos 12:45PM no source. i grow my own and no, i won’t sell you any, so don’t bother to ask

felassan 12:45PM I wouldn’t dare ask. It wouldn’t be the same if I couldn’t enjoy the taste of your lips on the joint.

She barked out a laugh before replying.

tamaris_tattoos 12:46PM you’re so full of shit lol you say you’re not a playboy and then you throw down a line like that

felassan 12:46PM And yet you replied. With a ‘lol’ to boot. I must be doing something right.

tamaris_tattoos 12:46PM you’re fucking bold you know that

felassan 12:46PM Only when I’m deeply inspired. But I will back off if that’s what you want.

Tamaris hesitated for a long moment. She hated to admit it, but his cleverness was extremely attractive. And the way he kissed her last night…

She nibbled the inside of her cheek for a second. Then, slowly, she tapped out another message. 

tamaris_tattoos 12:47PM fine. drinks later. what’s your number

felassan 12:47PM Now who’s bold?

tamaris_tattoos 12:47PM for fuck’s sake do you want to meet up or not

felassan 12:47PM I would be honoured. Let me know the time and place. 519-555-3352

tamaris_tattoos 12:48PM ok i’m not bringing any deep mushroom though so you’re shit out of luck if that’s what you wanted

felassan 12:48PM I assure you that deep mushroom is the last thing on my mind.

She huffed and closed the app. He was way too smooth. There was no way he wasn’t a playboy.

It was fine, though. She’d just meet up with him, have a drink, fuck him, and then she’d never have to see him again. 

Good plan, she told herself. She went back to her bedroom and grabbed her laptop, then sat down in the living room to read her emails and messages from possible clients until her two o’clock client arrived. But as she looked through the reference pics that one possible client had sent her, she found herself thinking about Felassan and his surprising lack of tattoos – specifically of vallaslin.

She supposed she shouldn’t be that surprised that Arlathani elves didn’t share the same traditions as Dalish elves. The elves that had eventually split off into the Dalish clans had left Arlathan hundreds of years ago, after all. Maybe even a thousand years ago? Athera would know the exact dates if she was here. Regardless, it was long enough for traditions to change. But still, the way Felassan described the difference between the Dalish and the Arlathani elves was interesting: so far removed as to be incomparable. That was a pretty intriguing statement, if Tamaris was honest. Not to mention that thing he’d said about there being a reason he had decided to stay in Orlais instead of going back to Arlathan… 

She mulled this over for a moment, then shrugged it off. It’s probably just a ploy, she thought. All part of his charm to try and get her interested enough to see him again. And here she was, falling into his charming trap. 

She tsked at herself and got up to make a cup of coffee. It’s not falling into his trap if this is the last time I see him, she thought. And really, that’s all there was to it: she’d see him this one time, have sex with him, and that would be the end of it. It’s not like she was emotionally equipped to actually fall for anyone, anyway.

And certainly not for a smooth-as-fuck player like Felassan.

- SOLAS -

Late that afternoon, after all the students and research assistants had gone home, Solas sat at the desk in his office staring absently at his computer screen. 

He really should be working. He had meant to finish editing the response piece he was submitting to the Journal of Orlesian History by tomorrow afternoon, and he had an early meeting with Merrill in the morning, so tonight was really the only time he had to finish the edits. 

He put on his reading glasses and signed into his computer, then opened the response piece and stared at it without taking in a single word. He really needed to focus, but his thoughts were spinning fruitlessly through his head like leaves in a windstorm, and they kept coming back to Nare. 

Nare, the irresistible woman from the bar last night — the student from the bar last night. 

Nare, his Master’s student. 

He rubbed his forehead. It still felt surreal that the beautiful and tempting woman who had approached him so boldly at the bar last night was his new Master’s student. 

And to his shame, the fact that she was his student hadn’t diminished his interest in her at all.

Quite the opposite, in fact. In his art theory and critique seminar today, she had asked so many incisive questions about the ancient Elvhen principles of art criticism that he’d had a hard time keeping a straight face while answering her. And then she’d actually engaged him in a rousing debate about whether those principles were still relevant today when there was so much interaction between different forms and traditions of art. Solas was as impressed by the quality of Nare’s logic as he was by the fact that she dared to debate with him — something that few students did. 

All in all, she was proving to be just as keen and inquisitive as she was beautiful. And for Solas, this was a terrible problem. 

He blew out a bracing breath. It is not a problem, he assured himself; after all, he and Nare both wanted the same thing: a good mentor-student relationship. And her behaviour during the seminar had been very professional.

If he didn’t count the intense way she watched him during the lecture portion of his seminar, or those mischievous little smiles she gave him when no one else was looking. 

He frowned at himself and ran a hand over his scalp as though to brush the thoughts away. There was no reason for him to think that she was trying to flirt with him during the seminar with her oceanic eyes or her little smiles. He was probably just imagining her to be a vixen because of the way she’d approached him last night.

That was over now, though. He ought to forget entirely about the Nare he had met last night at the campus bar, and focus solely on the Nare who was his clever and sharp-minded Master’s student. 

He sighed. If only he wasn’t finding her intelligence as alluring as her smile or the enticing curve of her spine. 

Then someone knocked on the door.

Solas’s heart leapt into his throat. Was it possible that it was Nare?

He cleared his throat subtly. “Yes?” he called. 

When Abelas opened the door, Solas couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or disappointed. “Abelas,” he greeted. “Are you heading home shortly?”

“Not yet,” Abelas said. He entered the office and closed the door behind him. “I wanted to discuss a few things with you before we part ways for the night.”

“Certainly,” Solas said. “What’s on your mind?”

Abelas handed him a report. “The waitlists for our program’s classes are growing longer still. We should consider speaking to the head of the history department about an increase in class sizes.”

Solas scanned the first page of the report, then looked up at Abelas in surprise. “The waitlist for your fourth-year literature class has more students than the class itself.”

“You see the problem, then,” he said.

“This is not a problem,” Solas said. “This is excellent.” He smiled at Abelas. “You should be pleased that your class is so popular.”

“Hm,” Abelas grunted. “Your first- and second-year classes are also particularly in demand.”

“Not the upper year ones, however,” Solas said drolly. 

Abelas raised one eyebrow. “It seems that your reputation precedes you, Fen’Harel.”

Solas laughed. “Hearing that nickname from Felassan is bad enough. Am I to suffer it from you as well, then?”

Abelas grunted again, and Solas fondly noted the twitch of a near-smile at the corner of Abelas’s mouth. Then Abelas pointed to the report. “Speaking of Felassan: his courses are overly popular as well.” He folded his arms. “I believe it’s because he is being too lenient with grading.”

“What makes you think that?” Solas asked.

“He said as much today,” Abelas said.

Solas frowned. “He did?”

“Yes, when he was speaking to Athera.”

Solas relaxed. “Ah. It was more than likely a joke.”

Abelas pursed his lips. “I have my doubts. I will find some time to audit his classes in the next two weeks.”

 “Why?” Solas said in surprise.

“To ensure that he is fulfilling his duties properly.”

Solas eyed him with growing exasperation. Abelas has always had an admirable devotion to his work, but ever since they had come to Orlais, his devotion had almost become an obsession. 

“I don’t believe that such extreme measures are necessary,” Solas said.

Abelas frowned. “It doesn’t bother you to imagine him making a mockery of our work here? You would rather let him have free reign than allow me to audit his classes?”

Solas raised his eyebrows at Abelas’s waspish tone, then slowly sat back in his chair. “It is not my place to allow you to do anything,” he said evenly. “You are the program director, after all.”

Abelas clenched his jaw, and Solas sympathetically regarded his longtime friend. “You are doing it again, you know,” he said gently. “Taking on more than is necessary to keep things running smoothly.” 

“I am not taking on too much,” Abelas snapped. “I am doing what my duty requires of me.”

Solas steadily met his eyes, then switched to Elvhen. “This is not the military, Abelas.”

“I am aware of that,” Abelas retorted.

“Are you?”

Abelas clenched his jaw and looked away before speaking in the common tongue once more. “I will have a word with Felassan. In private.”

“That sounds like a much better plan,” Solas said. He put his reading glasses back on and turned to his computer. “Is there anything else? I have some editing to do that requires my undivided attention.”

Abelas frowned. “For the response piece? I thought you had intended to finish that before your seminar.”

“I had, yes,” Solas said wryly. “But I have been unusually distracted.” He forced his expression to remain pleasantly neutral as he spoke. He was telling the truth, after all; he had been regrettably distracted all afternoon. There was absolutely no need to tell Abelas that the distraction was in the form of his alluring new Master’s student.

Abelas raised his eyebrows. “Distracted? That is unlike you.”

Solas gave him a small smile. “There is no need to rub it in.”

“That was not my intention,” Abelas said. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Are you in need of assistance?” 

Solas shot him a wry look. “And add another task to your overfilled plate? I wouldn’t dare, for fear that you would actually agree to take it on.”

Abelas harrumphed, but before he could reply, there was another knock on Solas’s door. 

Solas raised his eyebrows at Abelas — who else was still here at this hour? — then called out to the person at the door. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Athera poked her head in with a smile. “Hi Solas, I — oh, Abelas! I mean, Professor Abelas. I didn’t… um.” She broke off and shot them both a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just going to let you know I finished digitizing the contents of one shelf in the archive room. I’ll—”

Abelas cut in. “You finished the first shelf?”

“Not the whole bookshelf,” Athera said quickly. “Just the top shelf of the first bookshelf.”

Abelas blinked. “You — the entire top shelf?”

Athera’s smile was fading into a cautious look. “Yes. Is that okay?”

“It’s excellent, Athera,” Solas said firmly. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she said. “I’ll keep going tomorrow when I have time.”

Solas nodded and smiled, and Athera smiled back at him before shifting her gaze to Abelas. “Let me know if you want me to start that proposal for the NAS system,” she said.

“Not yet,” Abelas said brusquely. “I must review the program budget first.” 

To Solas’s mild surprise, Athera wasn’t cowed by Abelas’s unfriendly tone; instead, she widened her grey eyes. “I know. I’m just saying to let me know when and I’ll get started.”

Abelas folded his arms and nodded. Then Athera tugged her ear and gave them both an awkward little smile. “Okay, uh, goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Solas said politely.

She shot Abelas one last glance before leaving the office. Once she was gone, Abelas sighed and ran a hand over his braid.

Solas raised his eyebrows. “You were nearly polite. I’m impressed.”

Abelas shot him a resentful look, then rubbed his chin. “I… snapped at her earlier today,” he admitted.

Solas sighed. “Abelas…”

“Do not act as though you are surprised,” he complained. “You knew I didn’t want her here. I didn’t want a lab coordinator.”

“You said you understood the necessity of the position,” Solas said.

“I know what I said,” Abelas said in a hard voice. “I am allowed to understand the need but still be resentful.”

“As long as you don’t remain resentful for too long,” Solas said. He clicked his mouse to wake up the screen, then looked at his colleague over the top of his glasses. “You know I insisted on this position out of concern for you.”

“I am aware,” he muttered. “You remind me incessantly.”

Solas lifted his chin slightly, and Abelas sighed. “I understand the necessity, Solas.”

“All right.” Solas quickly corrected a typo, then shot him a sideways glance. “You don’t have genuine concerns about her competence, do you?”

Abelas hesitated for long enough that Solas actually paused his activities to look at him fully. “Do you truly have concerns?”

“No,” Abelas said. “She appears to be…” He sighed and ran his hand over his hair once more. “She is more organized and efficient than she appears to be.”

Solas raised his eyebrows. “That sounds like praise. I don’t know if I should believe my ears.”

Abelas shot him an annoyed look. “She is trying to change things after a single day here.”

Solas smiled faintly. “Some change was inevitable when bringing in a new member of the lab. And I know you have no great love for change–”

“Don’t make me sound so inflexible,” Abelas snapped. “I left Arlathan to come to this place, did I not?”

“Reluctantly, yes,” Solas said.

Abelas folded his arms, and Solas leaned his elbows on the desk. “It is temporary, Abelas,” he said soothingly. “Just remember that. Our contract lasts for three more years, and then we can return home. But we must—”

Abelas interrupted him. “We need to obtain exclusive rights to the Elvhen ruins in the Arbour Wilds first,” he said testily. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“I know you haven’t,” Solas said. “Just remember this when you are feeling irritated. The situation is temporary.”

Abelas nodded, then took a step back from his desk. “I will leave you to your work.”

Solas shot him a knowing look over the top of his glasses. “You should leave for the night.”

Abelas replied in Elvhen. “The rose should not disdain the holly leaf for its thorns.”

Solas laughed. “Don’t quote classic Arlathani poetry at me. My current circumstances are exceptional. You are a workaholic.”

Abelas harrumphed and left without a reply, closing the office door behind him. Solas chuckled as he settled back into his work, and for a time, he was actually able to concentrate on his edits. 

When his phone chimed with a text, however, his mind instantly went to Nare. 

He glanced eagerly at his phone, but a little thud of disappointment jolted his belly; it was just a text from Dorian inviting him for lunch next week. 

He sighed and turned back to his computer, but his focus was once again spoiled by thoughts of Nare — guilty thoughts about the fact that he was hoping she would text him. She had no reason to text him, after all; they wouldn’t need to meet one-on-one for another week. In fact, she would likely not need to return to the lab until their next meeting, so it was possible that he might not have any contact with her at all for an entire week. 

That thought shouldn’t disappoint him so much, especially since they had only just met. There was absolutely no reason that Solas should be this preoccupied by thoughts of Nare’s keen mind and her scintillating laugh. There was no good reason that he should be thinking this much about the way her smile shifted from shy to coquettish to heatedly brazen and bold. 

There was no reason why three encounters with this one woman should be enough to bring him to his knees. 

Or better yet, to imagine her on her knees in front of him. 

A sudden flash of a fantasy invaded his mind: Nare on her knees before him wearing that lovely red dress from last night, her palms resting demurely on her knees while Solas tilted her chin up with one hand. Nare lifting her chin eagerly, bringing her smiling lips closer to the rising hardness of his shaft. Nare panting and struggling to remain upright while Solas knelt in front of her in a similarly compromising position… 

His trousers felt tight around his groin. He scowled at his lap and shifted in his chair to try and relieve the pressure. Stop this, he scolded himself. It was wrong to feel this way. It was wrong to feel so drawn to Nare – to feel as though the connection they had made last night was something rare and precious, and to want to foster that connection.

Just like it had been wrong of him to confess to her during their meeting today that she was so thoroughly distracting. And it was certainly wrong for him to feel a distinct unfurling of satisfaction in his gut at the hopeful widening of her eyes when he’d made that forbidden confession.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, momentarily defeated by his own traitorous libido. He closed his eyes and briefly ran his palm over his own hardness through his trousers. Not enough to bring himself any kind of release, of course, but enough to soothe himself… and unfortunately, to worsen the fantasies that were running unchecked through his mind. 

Solas sat idly in his office chair for a time, thinking terrible tempting thoughts and cursing himself silently for his lack of discipline while his work sat untouched on the screen before him. If wanting Nare was so completely wrong, why did the wanting have to feel so torturously good? 

[foolgobi65]

Bookstore AU, meet messy, “i know that it’s the thought that counts but this doesn’t even look like you thought about it.” - for Urmila/Lakshmana?

k this probably borrows from the characterizations of “sita’s sister” but since the focus isnt on sita and rama we can brush off their whole emotional arc and say it happened while they were getting to know each other, probably on some online forum for sherlock holmes fans or something. i’ve never actually written urmilla or lakshmana before, so you’ll have to tell me if the characterization works!! i think they’d mellow out after a bit, and bond over their shared slightly wicked senses of humor and protective instincts when said instincts arent leading them to clash with each other lol. thank you for the super fun prompt, i hope you like it!!!

---

Urmilla frowns. “These books don’t belong here!” 

Technically, neither does Urmilla -- it’s her sister Sita who’s supposed to be meeting her internet friend/potential lover at the cafe attached to Sita’s favorite bookstore today, the only day Rama is apparently in Bombay before he has to fly back to America where he’s finishing up his MBA. 

“I’m just saying it’s suspicious,” Urmilla had said, watching from her perch on Sita’s bed as Sita tried to find a pair of earrings that would suit the color top she was wearing. She reached for a pair of gold ones, but put them back when Urmilla wrinkled her nose and picked up a pair of silver jhumkas. 

“It’s not suspicious at all,” Sita had responded. “He was only here a week, and spent those days with his family in Ayodhya. I’m just lucky we were able to find the time to meet at all after all these years.” 

“That’s my point! You’ve known each other for years, and you expect me to believe that the first time he manages to find the time to see you in person is for a few hours on the way out? If he really loved you--”  

“Urmilla!” Sita shrieked, dropping the jhumka she had been trying to thread through her left earlobe. “We’re just friends!” 

Urmilla, noting the sky-blue kurta Sita had chosen to wear -- the one everyone had always told Sita made her complexion look particularly lovely -- had rolled her eyes. As always, Sita was too soft for this cold, cruel world and so it fell to Urmilla, her intrepid younger sister to stand watch against all those who would try to break her elder sister’s heart. Sita had told her that under no circumstances was Urmilla to observe her “meeting” with Rama, but Urmilla had only kissed Sita’s cheek goodbye and, a few minutes later, changed her top, put on her glasses, and rode her scooter to the bookshop. 

“And how would you know?” a male voice asks in response to Urmilla’s earlier exclamation. He’s tall, Urmilla notes immediately, and handsome too -- but the expression on his face is slightly incredulous, as if he doesn’t believe that Urmilla could understand the mysteries of the library arts, and Urmilla feels the first tingling of rage at the base of her spine. She’s using a gap between books, the one she supposes the books he’s carrying are meant to fill, in order to spy on Rama and Sita sitting at the cafe table near the register, but, confident that Rama seems in no rush to do anything but stare across his coffee and smile at Sita like a dope, Urmilla turns to face her new adversary. 

“Do you work here or something?” Why else would he be carrying the books, she thinks, but still she’s learning to verify her assumptions before flying off the handle. 

He takes a step forward, setting the books on the edge of a random shelf. “And if I do?” 

Urmilla huffs. “These books are sorted alphabetically, rather than first being grouped by genre.”  

The man crosses his arms. “Genre can be subjective! And what if an author dabbles in more than one -- should I be spreading their work out throughout the store?” 

“Yes,” Urmilla insists, plucking out a romance from next to a robot-fantasy. “I know it’s the thought that counts, but this doesn’t even look like you thought about it! When someone’s browsing for another romantic comedy after enjoying their last one so much, should they just be wandering the store reading spines and hoping for a title that speaks to them?” 

The book leaves Urmilla’s hand, as the man flips it over and reads the back description. “Yes,” he says in return.  

“If you really believe that,” Urmilla says, somehow even more aggravated when this handsome, stupid stranger’s attention is diverted, “then you’re shit at your job and you should probably be looking for a new career.” 

For a moment, she wonders if she’s gone too far: the man looms tall, and briefly seems like he might be genuinely upset. Urmilla, like her sister, is of an average height for South Asian women and is at quite the disadvantage. Her left hand slips into her pocket where she keeps her keys, and the pocket knife attached. 

Almost like he knows what she’s thinking, the anger fades from his expression and he takes a step back. Urmilla exhales, relaxing her grip. 

“I don’t,” he admits sheepishly, “work here, I mean.” He hands her back the book. “I’ve spent the last few hours pretending I do so that I can keep an eye on my elder brother. He’s on a first date, but all of us brothers swear he’s been in love with the girl for years.” 

Intrigued, Urmilla raises an eyebrow. The cafe is a famous spot for first dates amongst a particular set, so it’s not exactly extraordinary that there might be another younger sibling hidden in the stacks. “Friends from college?” 

He snorts. “I wish. He’s never actually met the girl, but they’ve been chatting over the internet for god knows how long. At all hours of day and night too, smiling like an idiot while he types on his phone.” 

Urmilla blinks. It can’t be... “Why haven’t they met?” 

He shrugs. “As far as he’s told me, it’s partially because of her schedule and partially because of his. I think she was abroad when they first met, and then by the time she came back he got the offer to do his MBA in America. During the holidays, they’re both either working or with their families.” 

Sita was in the UK two years ago, Urmilla thinks. And she was working in Calcutta all last summer, so busy that she couldn’t even spare time for Urmilla to come and visit for a day. 

“Oh,” she says, realizing that this might be a golden opportunity. “And what type of man is your older brother? Has he had many girlfriends before this? Would he let his wife work after marriage? Does he watch porn from websites that don’t verify that the actors have safe working conditions?” 

“What,” the man splutters, and yes the last question was probably a little too much. But still, Urmilla thinks, all of these are questions of vital importance when scoping out Sita’s potential boyfriend -- who thinks this is a date! Just friends, Urmilla’s ass! 

“Would he let his wife work after marriage,” Urmilla tries again, deciding for now that she can save the question about his porn habits to ask Rama directly. Now that she thinks about it, Sita had mentioned that he had younger brothers. Pity that Urmilla had never asked Sita about their names. 

“All three of our mothers work!” Rama’s brother exclaims, and Urmilla’s eyes widen in simultaneous shock, horror, and delight. 

“Is your father a polygamist?!” she shrieks, probably smiling in the way Sita always says makes her look deranged. Urmilla just knew there was something wrong with Rama, who Sita always speaks about as if he could thread the constellations if he wanted. Oh, this is too good to keep on the inside. “I knew it!” 

“No!” Rama’s brother bellows back, “Why would you say that?” Too late, Urmilla realizes that bookstores are supposed to be quiet places, where people don’t loudly question other people’s marital habits. When she turns to look back through the gap. Rama and Sita are gone. 

“He wasn’t married to them all at once,” another man’s voice answers, and when Urmilla turns it is Rama who’s speaking, Sita at his side. Her face is flush as a beet, lips trying valiantly to turn down in a frown, but when Urmilla looks at her hand it is tangled up in Rama’s so Sita can’t possibly be that upset. Though there’s still the question of the father. Rama shrugs at Urmilla’s raised eyebrow. “He was just...unlucky in love, for a bit. But he’s been happily married for the last 20 years or so.” 

“Third time’s the charm?” Urmilla never did get an answer about Rama’s previous relationships. 

Rama smiles. “The second, actually. They broke up for about a year, and Father was....not quite at his best, perhaps.” 

Urmilla scoffs, but when presented with an acceptable answer she has no choice but to concede. Sita’s presence prevents her from re-asking some of the more ...necessary but perhaps socially crass questions on Urmilla’s mind. 

“Brother,” Rama’s brother demands, “why on earth are you even entertaining the accusations of this --” Before Urmilla can respond, Rama raises his hand, and immediately, miraculously, his brother falls silent. Point to Rama. 

“For the same reason that you’ve been here hiding away from me since, I assume, the moment you dropped me off at 10 am.” 

“Wait,” Sita interjects, “weren’t we supposed to meet at 12?” Rama blushes as Sita’s smile grows. “Were you really waiting for me all this time?” 

“Yes, yes, he’s very sweet and was worried that he would be caught up in traffic,” Rama’s brother responds, brushing away Sita’s delight in favor of turning to Urmilla and glaring. “But that doesn’t answer my question. I was being a good brother and trying to make sure that your date went as planned.” 

“And that required you poorly impersonate a shop assistant? Think about the amount of work you’ve created for the people who actually work here!” 

“I didn’t want to be kicked out!” 

“No one gets kicked out of a bookstore, you piece of--”

“Urmilla!” 

Now it’s Rama’s brother’s turn to blink as if something has just occurred to him. “Brother,” he says slowly, “didn’t you say she had a sister? Ur-something.” 

The only thing preventing Urmilla from slow-clapping in response is Rama’s gentle, ever-so-slightly put upon smile. “Urmilla,” he says, “might I have the honor of introducing you to my younger brother Lakshman?” 

[jaewrxtes]

ATEEZ Seonghwa: Werewolf Headcanon!

Note: This is for Mars ( @milkyateez )’s Halloween prompt thing! IDK WHAT TO CALL IT LMAO This is a scenario (how you met werewolf seonghwa) + Headcanon so yeah— BE READY FOR FLUFF AND sorta ANGST! Enjoy!

# of Words: i dont know folks

Warning (s): mention of smol blood (just a stain + scar)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Seonghwa is a arctic wolf :D

He was going to be the next leader of his family’s pack

But I’ll explain why he isnt going to be the next leader soon

maybe in another scenario thingy or timestamp

He’s pretty resourceful and helps out everyone

unless they mess with his pack or friends

He helps everyone with so many different tasks

Need help grocery shopping? Yeah he’s here

Need to shop for new clothes? Lets go Seonghwa is there to help

Need to get food? Because you forgot to cook lunch/dinner Yes hello Chef Seonghwa has arrived

His family (for this au) consist of him, his mom, his dad and his little brother, Park Seoho not oneus yall

He cares about his little brother more than anything

He was 12 when baby Seoho was born

And when he was born, he vowed to protect him to matter what

His parents cared about Seoho.. But they only cared about Seonghwa becoming a great Leader of the Star Pack.

Seonghwa was honored to be the next leader of his pack

Its just that its a lot of pressure to be the best leader he can be

He had been training for his whole life to be somewhat like his father

but nicer and sweeter!

moving on

Lets move on to the brothers’ relationship :DDDD

Seoho is a innocent lil baby and Seonghwa is his caring and protective older brother

Ever since he was pup he watched over him

He helped him go to his first day of preschool

He helped him choose his first outfit

His first lunchbox

His first backpack

Literally his first everything

He was the only one who spent his first birthday with him

Now (2019) Seonghwa is 21 and Seoho is 9

Lil baby Seoho is starting 4th grade 😱😱😱

Seoho is so excited and he has his outfit ready, his backpack (with his adorable winter themed supplies) and his lunchbox :D

Everything a lil baby needs to survive fourth grade

Seonghwa’s parents, once again won’t be coming with Seoho on his first day

As Seonghwa was preparing his lunch, Seoho tugs on his pants frowning

“Hyung.. Do mommy and daddy not love me?”

Seonghwa froze for a moment before putting down his knife that he was using to cut up apples

He kneeled down and patted his brother’s head

“Seoho, Mom and Dad love you so much” he said

“They’re just really busy”

Seoho continued to frown as he turned away from his brother’s gaze

“Lying isn’t good hyung”

Seonghwa was about to say he wasnt before Seoho continued

“They said they were going to give me away to another pack..”

Seonghwa’s eyes widened and he suddenly hugged his brother

“They won’t give you away.. I promise you.”

“Now come on, we gotta get you to school!”

Seoho jumped in excitement and grabbed his backpack as Seonghwa finished packing up his lunch

okay now at school — WHERE SEONGHWA MEETS YOU

once the two boys arrived at school

teachers were already heading inside to their classrooms

one teacher however was still waiting for her last student

that one teacher was...

YOU

You held your clipboard that had all your student’s names on it

also you’re a new teacher oop-

You kneeled down and asked one of the kids

“Do any of you know Park Seoho?”

The students stayed silent until you heard a voice behind you

“Are you Miss [L/n]?”

You quickly stood up

almost falling but shhhhhhh

And you nodded

“Yes I am”

The man who was in front of you smiled and bowed

“I apologize... It took a while for me to figure out where my brother’s school was..”

You looked behind him and saw a small boy holding a lunchbox that was covered in sticker crystals plus a backpack that was covered with snowflake designs

“Are you Park Seoho’s brother?” You asked

He nodded and pushed his brother forward gently

“I’m Park Seonghwa. Its nice to meet you Miss [L/n].”

Seoho then bowed to you and smiled

“Hi Miss [L/n]! I look forward to being in your class!”

You giggled at the young boy’s cuteness and patted his head

“I look forward to having you in my class Seoho!”

Seonghwa smiled gently and then let go of his brother’s hand

which Seoho was holding onto tightly

“I’ll see you after school, okay bud?”

Seoho smiled up at him and then at you

and then back to Seonghwa

“Okay! Bye hyung!”

You smiled and finally got all of you students in a line

Seoho being in the front

and you all started walking to your classroom

after school

it was a few hours after school and Seoho was still there

Waiting for Seonghwa to come

You were still there

bc you were hanging up the kiddos’s art pieces

and you were about to leave when you saw Seoho

You tried thinking of his brother’s name but you couldnt so

You sat down next to the young boy and asked

“Is your mommy or daddy coming to pick you up?”

Seoho sighed and stared at the ground

“Seonghwa-hyung picks me up...”

“Mommy and daddy never do..”

You frowned and patted his shoulder

“Im sure he’ll be here soon! Don’t worry Seoho”

“I’ll be here to wait for him with you”

Seoho then smiled and hugged you

“Thank you Miss [L/n]!”

You guys just sat there talking for about an hour more before Seonghwa arrived, panting

He also had a smol wound (like a scar) on his cheek and a blood stain on his hand

“I-Im so sorry! I lost track of time!”

“Its fine hyung! Miss [L/n] stayed with me!”

He looked towards you and bowed

“Thank you so much-“

“What happened?”

You suddenly asked

“How did you get that scar?”

Seonghwa then froze before asking

“W-What scar?”

“The scar on your right cheek.”

Seoho then looked up and saw it too

“Hyung! What happened?”

“I-Its nothing Seoho, nothing-“

You kneeled down and smiled at Seoho,

“Can you get your brother to sit down and wait while i get the medicial supplies?”

The little boy nodded then dragged Seonghwa to one of the benches while you grabbed the medicial supplies to at least cover up the smol wound

“Don’t worry Hyung! Miss [L/n] will take good care of you!”

He stared at his brother and sighed

“If you trust her then I do too..”

You then came back out with some medical supplies to help clean up his wound

“This may hurt a bit.. But Seoho can hug you while I clean up the scar right?”

Seoho nodded eagerly

“Yes I can!”

He then wrapped his smol arms around Seonghwa as you cleaned up the wound and put a bandaid on it

“And there we go” You smiled

“All clean and it should heal up soon.”

Seoho then started jumping up and down with joy

“Yey! Hyung is all better!”

Seonghwa chuckled at his brother and ruffled his hair

“Thank you Miss-“

“Just call me [Y/n]”

He smiled

“Thank you [Y/n].”

He then took Seoho’s hand and walked out of the gates

“Bye Miss [L/n]! See you tomorrow!”

“Bye Seoho!”

You then walked to the office and the boys then started walking home

while they are walking

Seoho was skipping alongside his brother

“Seonghwa hyung, do you have a crush on Miss [L/n] already?”

“N-Now how do you know about crushes?” Seonghwa asked

“My classmates were talking about them during lunch!”

“So do you have a crush on her hyung?”

Seonghwa sighed and smiled

“Maybe I do Seoho, Maybe I do.”

[memnonofarcadia]

Remembering Joey Bruno

Originally published in the Sacramento Jazz & Blues Quarterly Bedtime is sometime around dawn. Dinner is usually whatever you want it to be. Shall we go to Iceland? Festivals, fliers, wristbands, Sharpies on skin, smoke, grass, hash, molasses, sky, blue, crisp, clear sky. And yet I’m still writing all this within a grey airport terminal, locked into some kind of strange Druid-esque ritual with pen and paper. Deadline is tomorrow, where were you when you were supposed to be working? Don’t have any answers for now, just that I need to write and get it out to my boss within the next day. Or two. It wouldn’t have been the first deadline blown. But think, distract myself with the McDonald’s coffee and keep putting down adjectives and phrases from places I’ve been, things I’d seen, dreams I’d never have again with people I’ve never met and music I had. 40 minutes till boarding starts, I’ll be last, of course. It pays enough to fly but not enough to enjoy it. Been getting harder and harder to deal with the travel, at any rate. Starting to notice the spell everyone is under, the sleepwalking nature of the corporate employee. It had only been noticeable after it had been broken, which I had no problem doing, ever. When your home is a hotel you take your shots however you can get them, besides it wasn’t like you have to live in any particular town past a few days at most. Half-heartedly started keeping a list of rejections and their professions, making sure to note that there was only one waitress on the list, most were from bookstores or places where there was an escape for all parties. Don’t need to make it more awkward than it has to be. Sorry, I didn’t mean, then the words fade off into the ocean. On the edge of nowhere, like a little seaside town. Maybe that’s where I’d like to end up, like a lifeguard in the post-apocalypse, no responsibilities, just looking cool for the seagulls. How many life guards had I asked out? Not many, either way. Concerts didn’t go well with water, not in my experience. Can’t seem to find a way to write about anything other than something on the present times, life and times. I struggle, already flipped through the notebooks to jog the memory with some tit and tat that had to be discarded for the sake of length from another article. Or two. Or four. Or 12. Throwing yourself to the wolves, towards and into the meat grinder that one might just pay the bills with the right amount of ink in the right places on a blank piece of paper. Who cares about music festivals and pop culture when there’s McDonald’s coffee and the cold inside of an airplane to look forward to? Four times I’d attempted to ask about an airline attendant’s relationship status, thrice I’d been rejected. Once she’d pretended not to hear me and instead moved to the opposite end of the plane for the remainder or the flight. Understandable, no harm done. No harm done. By anyone, right? Who said this was ever going to be a love story, you and I?

College had been a breeze, not that I’m bragging. State schools were like that, at least then, and Californ-I-A’s were no different. No doubt now there’s better options available for where I was at when I had to decide where to go to school, but there you are. A degree in journalism is a degree in journalism, and I had little else to go on other than my love of music, substances, travel, female company, and a shocking talent at being able to string together sentences. In a way it’s always given me a bit of a guilty feeling. I never sat down and really worked at learning or improving with regards to writing, I just sort of could do it. That’s the short version of how I found my niche of a career, one I thought I could exploit anyway. Turns out I was right, and in a way it was everything I could (and did!) hope for. Except everybody’s got to grow up sometimes, and I did, regrettably. There’s only so many hungover mornings a human being can take before they’re permanently reduced to a shambling, sickly mess of what used to be a humanoid organism, and I had certainly put myself on that path. Got off of it, thanks to the countless AA meetings I made myself go to, but I digress. That had been the first mark on the wall of things that I could no longer enjoy about the gig, the fact that now I had to do the whole thing sober. The hardest substance I have confidence I can enjoy responsibly now is coffee, and even then the ugly demon of acid reflux put me back in my place before too long. Suddenly all the kids were much more annoying than usual, the travel a hassle, the food revolting, and the music itself just kind of bad, which was the real heartbreaker. Some days before it had been all to keep me going, minus the women, which were always a constant. “Festival sluts” is the term you’ll want to Google (or DuckDuckGo) if you’re curious about what I mean, also colloquially known as upper middle class girls whose parents were too busy working to devote anything past a friendly “hullo” to their children, and thus succeeded in raising a bunch of hedonistic, attention-desperate, and morally naïve young people with excess income and too much time to spend it all in. Nasty ain’t it? But it kept me coming back for more, like the good-natured animal that I am. We all are. That’s the secret that I learned more than anything from the beat, we are all more simple and pleasure driven than we could ever articulate or realize. It’s what keeps the lights on at home, for everything and anything. Probably. Or maybe I’m just bitter. Most of the friends I made during college or were colleagues in my escapades writing about indie rock et al. around the globe are gone now. Burnt out, some burnt up, most just couldn’t hack it anymore and left to go get real jobs at real newspapers. The circus, or pirate ship, as is probably more accurate a nomer, is not for everyone, and rarely does it last forever. Bet you’re wondering where that leaves me. Still bitter, but still coming back for more, just like I was always going to. Always. So why don’t I quit? You tell me. Because I know why.

The finest writer I ever met was a journalist by the name of Joey Bruno, a guy I came across one of the many late nights I spent at the pathetic office of my college’s newspaper. I was editing a freshman’s piece about how the White Album was actually really bad, sighing uncontrollably the whole time, when Mr. Bruno walked in and struck up a conversation with yours truly. I happily engaged, as any activity that didn’t involve that stupid piece of writing was fine by me. He explained that he was friends with the real Editor , who was at his parents’ in Wisconsin for the weekend, and would drop by periodically when he got off work to help out where he could. “Why spend your time working on bad writing by dumb college kids?” I’d asked him. “Free beer, plus it can be fun sometimes. There’s been plenty of stuff come through here that I rewrote beyond all recognition just for fun, and nine times out of ten the original author doesn’t even notice. Good times.” Maybe so, I’d thought. In any case every other Friday or thereabouts I’d get a late night revising buddy to help cull the newspaper’s intimidating stack of submissions. It was in those early morning hours that I came to the conclusion that I wanted to become a music journalist, mostly from talking to Mr. Bruno about his own adventures. But I don’t think I listened, not really. Maybe if I had I’d be off this conveyor belt by now, but then again maybe not. Maybe I’d never have started. One night in particular while we were enjoying our cigarettes, coffee, and beer (all courtesy of the newspaper of course), he retailed me with a story of his long lost love, a girl he’d known briefly in the California punk scene of the late 80s. I was instantly entranced. “It was a magical time,” he’d said to me while stroking his magnificent beard. “But I’m glad it’s over now. It was getting messy there at the end,” I brought up how those little parts of the world, at that time were being romanticized an awful lot in contemporary media then. “And for good reason, too.” He’d responded wistfully. “A lot of great things happened for a lot of good people. It was about as close to the 60s as anyone came since then, I think. That much hope,” And this is where he began to tell his story, the story of “the rebel known as ‘Justine,’” as he’d put it. However it had happened, the two had come into contact through the various zines they’d each produced and sent out to the other punks in town. The closest thing to an internet forum for back then was to just be louder than everyone else, apparently. That was the only real way to get heard, to start a dialogue of some kind. That or take your chances at the shows, which they did anyway, but there wasn’t much talking going on there. Joey had written to Justine complimenting her on “Pop!,” which was her way of pushing her radical politics and militant-feminist views out on to the unsuspecting public behind the thin-façade of a bubblegum periodical. The art had been good, and the writing made everyone Joe showed it to laugh out loud, so he made a point to let the author know, whoever they were. There was an address included in the back for people to write in, so he did just that. He also included a copy of his own creation, the somewhat popular (in those circles anyway) “Buzz ‘n’ Stuff.” “What was it about?” I asked as my friend rolled himself another cigarette. “Nothing really, I just sort of made stuff about interesting things I found at the library then slapped it together in that. It seemed to work. I remember the one I sent her had something about how to get popped bubblegum out of your hair without cutting it all off, so I think that’s what got her interested. There wasn’t anything of value or substance in there, let’s be real,” Joey took another swig of his beer and reached into the cooler below his desk for another, being sure to throw me one too like a sport. “Thanks, boss. But continue, you got me interested now,” So he did. It had started slowly, really, with the trading of zines and letters, the occasional patch or pin by mail too. Eventually after a lengthy correspondence they made a plan to meet up at a concert, The Vandals to be precise. Joey had taken painstaking measures to show up in the most hip clothing of the day, studded leather jacket, combat boots, the whole nine yards. “I looked like a freak,” he told me with a chuckle. “But then I saw her,” Justine had arrived looking like everything and nothing Joey had expected her to. She had the familiar punk gear, Doc Martins and an army jacket covered in patches and safety pins, but the rest of what she had on departed from the norm drastically. It had been some bizarre cross between a punk, hippy, and cult leader all in one, macabre golden jewelry offsetting the “meat is murder” t shirt underneath. “It was great,” said Joey. “People were afraid of her at that show. She looked really scary,” They hit it off and had a jolly old time watching The Vandals play, and later they found themselves alone on a hill overlooking the suburbs, talking about the issues and passing a joint back and forth. It was all music to my ears, as it would be for most any young person, I suspect. “Tell me more,” I’d implored. These were fantasies that I needed fulfilled. Joey paused and rocked back and forth in his chair contently for a few seconds before he complied. My heart sank before he spoke. “We were inseparable after that first time. It really was something. We could go anywhere, do anything, and we would always end up on the same page somehow. It was easily the deepest spiritual, emotional, whatever you want to call it connection I’ve ever had with another human being, let alone girlfriend. But then a year or two later her Mom moved her and her brother up to Connecticut to be closer to the rest of their family. Last I heard she went to school in Maine, but that was it as far as we were concerned. Finito,” He smiled through all this as though recalling some rosy-cheeked memory but I was aghast. “What do you mean that’s it? You didn’t try to follow her or anything?” Joey just laughed. “Yeah, that was really an option at 17 without a car or money. It was just something that happened when we were kids, nothing really. I’m glad it happened at all, now.” Well then. What do you make of that? The conversation drifted pretty heavily after that point, as it always did when Joey and I got to jabbering and drinking, and as usual it was stories of the times he’d been on tour years later with Ozzy Osbourne or The Stooges or someone, then got to interview them endlessly and write about it. The usual vices were there as well in his stories, the drugs, the travel, the women, the glamor, the romance. But it all left pretty quickly once the novelty wore off, hence why Joey had quit after a few years and moved back home to Sacramento. When I knew him at the college newspaper he was a jazz correspondent, if you can wrap your head around that, for several of the snootier publications in the area. “I skipped to the fun part,” he told me. “The shows never get old, now. Plus jazz cats have the best shit,” he said with a wink. I probably just laughed, I don’t know, maybe downed the rest of my beer. I’ll be bound to have another once I get on the plane, off to Finland this time. Apparently it’s festival season in Scandinavia and its surrounding territories. Guess I’ll be writing about that all then though, from a different airport terminal that looks just like this one, with coffee and food and cigarettes and beer that shortens the life as much as the ones that came before. I could go on, but I won’t, for both our sake. There’s no moral to be gleaned from all this just a simple explanation of the reality, and how I’m passing the time in the airport by writing this, because I said I would. I promised. It’s my group now, and I have to go.