#in fact i think it's funnier unrequited (sorry)

[kurah]

"you drive me NUTS, Touden!!"

referenced from this new girl scene

[justalittlebluetiefling]

001: Critical Role, specifically Campaign 1, if you haven't seen cr1 then 2 and/or 3

002: Beau/Jester

003: Ashton Greymoore

(hey I just realized I did that in campaign order)

This got long, so if anyone doesn't want to read it all, but if you want to join in the fun with an ask, here's a link to the list. I'm going to put this under the cut, too, because like I said. It got long.

001 | Critical Role Campaign 1

Favorite character: Dude, I always say Keyleth as like, a gut reaction. But when I talk about this campaign, I never shut up about Scanlan.

Least Favorite character: Sorry everyone, but Percy. (Fun fact, I was worried I didn't vibe with Tal, because I also didn't like Molly, but then he came in with Cad and I loved him, so fears averted.)

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Vaxleth, Grogleth, Pikelan, Vex x Zahra, Vexleth

Character I find most attractive: Vex'ahlia. Obviously.

Character I would marry: Pike

Character I would be best friends with: Keyleth

a random thought: This has been talked about lately, but I think people are really missing out when they skip the Kraghammer arc.

An unpopular opinion: Taliesin said less people should like Percy because he's such an asshole and I agree with him. (Listen, I think Percy is ultimately interesting as a character, he just isn't the kind of asshole I vibe with.)

My Canon OTP: Vaxleth

My Non-canon OTP: Grogleth

Most Badass Character: Keyleth

Most Epic Villain: I want to say the Briarwoods, because I love them, but I'll be honest and say Raishan.

Pairing I am not a fan of: Again, I'm sorry, but Perc'ahlia.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): I don't think this question can apply, because it's an actual play show, therefore no writers. It would be funnier if I named someone.

Favourite Friendship: Too many??? I guess I'll pick Grog and Keyleth though, since I should probably pick one.

Character I most identify with: Keyleth

Character I wish I could be: Pike

002 | Beau / Jester

When I started shipping them: I actually never did. This is one of those pairings that fanon/fandom kind of ruined for me before I could get into it.

My thoughts: I like the concept of them, but again, like I said above. A lot of louder fandom opinions about them turned me off to them.

What makes me happy about them: I love how much they love each other and support each other. Roommates era is top notch. Their hug after the first dragon fight was very good.

What makes me sad about them: Tbh the (mostly) unrequited feelings in this pairing was very good and very angsty and it was sad.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: I don't read a ton of CR fic, but in general, I will say that fic that continues to infantilize Jester is an instant close.

Things I look for in fanfic: n/a

My wishlist: In general, and I'm talking canon, I know they talk all the time because Jester has sending, so I feel pretty good about that. My hope is that they get to retire near each other one day. And I know they still go on adventures together once in a while.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I'm very happy with their canon pairings.

My happily ever after for them: As a ship? It's hard for me to picture a happily ever after better than what they got. BUT. I think that I could see them both as pirates on Fjord's ship. I know Jester would be all about helping Beau root out corruption, but she's too much of a wanderer and loves the ocean too much to keep herself inland for too long.

003 | Ashton Greymoore

How I feel about this character: Great! I think they're very cool and I'm really enjoying the slow reveal of their past and how tied into history it seems to be.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Fearne, Laudna. Tbh I could be swayed to anyone for them right now.

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: Imogen, FCG

My unpopular opinion about this character: I don't think I have any unpopular opinions right now.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: God, I want all their backstory. I want ALL THE NOTES. Mostly, I want to know what the little dunamis pocket is inside their head. I don't know what else to call it, but that seems right for now.

Favorite friendship for this character: FCG

My crossover ship: Honestly, not romantic, but I think Ashton and Grog would have so much fun fucking shit up together.

[bangtanshomura]

PINK | 1/? | pjm

summary: A neighbor as pink and hopelessly romantic as you and an equally pink neighbor like Jimin (but without a thing or two in common), sounds almost perfect together, right?. The only problem? That you are madly in love with him but his tonalities are very different from yours.

pairing: park jimin x female reader.

genre: fluff, angst, (maybe in the future a little of smut? not so sure).

word count: 1139.

warning: unrequited love, pinning, so much embarrassment, a looooot of pink hehe, hurt, some mxm with ot7, you know...it happens sometimes.

Pink, it was love at first sight.

“Running late, neighbor?”

“It’s kind of my thing, you know?” You are in the middle of a battle with your keys, asking to all the god’s above, why the fuck you must make a clown of yourself in front of the most beautiful, smart, hot and cocky human being in planet earth? Aka the love of your life, aka the future father of your two children, aka Park Jimin.

“Oh, I do know” The little giggle that comes out of his mouth is enough to have you all flustrated. ”Any plans tonight? Are your friends coming over?” Jimin takes your purse from your hands and hangs it naturally on his shoulder following you in the hallway that leads to the elevator of your building.

“I like to think that they’re not, but that’s really ambitious from my part, right?” While you press the button that will take you to the lobby, Jimin shakes his head with an amused smile in his face.

“I think so, they’ll come no matter what you do. Talking about friends” He makes a pause looking at you and then to himself in the mirror that covers the wall of the up and down thing, styling his hair. “I was kind of wondering if you would like to come with me to The Taehyung Biggest Lifetime Event?”

Oh, boy. What a simple way to put your heart into a nearly colapse.

You’ll see “The Taehyung Biggest Lifetime Event” it's the name that your incredible mutual friend -Tae- put to his first art exhibition. And in fact, it is a big thing, an important memory if you think about all the photos that will be taken in the near future and obviously posted in social media, where everybody can see them and never erase them. And of course, because of the beautiful art that your dear friend creates.

But...the posibilities.

Jimin with a hand wrapped around your waist smiling to the camara with love in his eyes.

No, no, better.

Jimin with a hand wrapped around your waist smiling while looking at your face with adoration.

Oh, that one sounds so much better. It would be the kind of photo that would make girls run away from his Instagram. And with a bit of good luck, from his life too.

“Y/n? Are you there?”

“Uh? Yeah, yeah. I am” The devilish smirk Jimin gives you is proof enough for you that he knows or at least imagines what kind of thoughts crossed your mind.

You blush in a very embarrasing way and his smirks transforms into something more.

Sometimes luck it’s a good samaritan, because the moment he opens his mouth to say something, the sound of the elevator arriving to the lobby makes it’s appearance.

"Saved by the bell, pink angel" Jimin throws a wink to your way leaving you with a tomato red face and a beating heart threatening to burst out of your chest.

"Park Jimin, are you flirting with me?"

"You wish, baby!"

I do.

The beautiful sound of his bubbly laugh invades the lobby and you run to reach his side but he is faster than you, so your paceful morning routine with your eternal crush turns into a chase through the streets.

______

|Jiminie: How's work, pink?

|Y/n: As good as ever, you boring?

|Jiminie: You know I am, Yoongi doesn't get any funnier.

|Y/n: Hey!, I like Yoongi's dry sense of humor.

|Jiminie: You love to make me jealous, don't you?

You can't help the enamoured giggle that comes out of you.

Re-reading the last message, you inhale a preoccupying amount of air and text him back.

|Y/n: Sorry, sometimes I forget your prise kink.

|Jimin: Im worried about how this conversation turned around my kinks, but yeah, don't let yourself forget that I love to be loved ;)

Even if the message is suggestive, you let your shoulders drop in a defeating manner.

I wish it said by you.

I love to ve loved by you.

All these messages, the pet names, the flirting and the big amount of time that you spend together doesn't mean the same to Jimin as it does to you.

Ever since you two cross paths in the hallway of your building, you knew you were so fucked up.

You met Jimin two year ago.

Your best friend Namjoon was helping you taking your big and heavy boxes to your new departament in the third floor, between jokes about his boyfriend fighting with him for his tendency to break everything that comes across his way, when you saw the most beautiful thing that your twenty two years old eyes had ever seen.

It was like an angel with what it had to be the tightest pair of black jeans in the whole world and the fluffiest pink sweater ever.

"Oh" He stoped in his tracks and intercalate his curious gaze between Namjoon and you, apparently taking a chance for your tall friend. "New neighbor?"

Namjoon saw you out of the corner of his eye watching how your eyes went all big and sparkling by the sight of the boy.

So he smiled amusedly at the blonde haired angel in front of you.

"It's because of the pink mixer, right?" The little -most definitely taller than you- blonde boy, blushed so much that for a moment you thought smoke would come out of his ears. "Don't get me wrong, I do love that color as any sane person. But, unfortunately, im not the new addition to your building. It's this pretty little pink thing here".

"Pink, uh?" You were indeed a very, very pink and pretty thing. He scaned you from head to toe -from your pastel green crop top, to your baby pink cargo's and your also baby pink military boots- and conclude that, that innocence could be the death of him if he ever let you in.

"Y/n" You blurted out your name so fast that Namjoon almost choked trying to hold back his laughter. You give him a warning glare and returned your embarrased gaze to Jimin. "My name is y/n"

At that precise moment you experienced one of the most radical changes ever seen. The turn upwards his lips took, had sufficient evidence to be considered illegal. "Im Jimin, Park Jimin".

The sound of another incoming message took you out of your thoughts, forcing you to look around the flower shop to verify that there were no clients waiting patiently for your attention while you remembered the first meeting with which you are sure is the love of your life.

|Jiminie: Pink? Maybe you are a little busy, but guess who got another coffe for free today?

|Jiminie: That's right, baby, meee!. Should I invite a drink once and for all to the barista across the street?.

Or maybe not.

________

a/n:

Hey! My name is Alex and this is the first fic I have published on Tumblr or anywhere, ever. So, uhm , please be patient with me. English is not my mother language, so Im trying to do my best to write it correctly.Any questions, complaints or suggestions will be accepted (as long as it is in a respectful way. Im a crybaby please don’t be too harsh with me).

I hope you enjoy it and please tell me your opinion. I am planning to do it in two or three parts, I don't want this first fic to be so long so you don’t get bored.

Enjoy!^^

[flamingo-writes]

Time To Heal — Mista x Reader x Narancia

Synopsis: Narancia has to deal woth his feelings for you, which he hates since you and Mista are dating. And were dating long before he started feeling things for you. He wishes to be honest about hiw he feels to the both of you since you're his best friends.

Genre: slight angst in the Reader x Narancia part, unrequited love. Fluffy for the Mista x Reader part, and fluffy for everyone at the end. Also, sprinkles of Mista x Giorno. Mentions of NSFW topics.

A/N: another set of headcanons because I'm too lazy to write a proper scenario abt this. I AM STILL WRITING THE JOSUKE ANGST I TALKED ABOUT YESTERDAY OK, also I have a Rohan fic in the making as well (I really need to stop working in several WIPs at once). The reader has tattoos.

Narancia's feelings for you happened after you started dating Mista.

It all began when you joined. You had been the fourth one to join Bucciarati's gang. Less than a month after you joined, Bruno bailed Mista out of jail and had him join.

It really was love at first sight for the both of you. The both of you falling head over hills at 10,000 mph.

You looked at the revolver tattoo you had gotten just a week earlier, when you met him. Is this fate? You asked yourself. Mista didn't even had to ask, he knew it for a fact.

It didn't take long for you and Mista to start dating.

But before Mista's arrival,  Narancia and you were already close friends, soon Mista joined the chaotic dynamic you two had.

Narancia's feelings for you weren't triggered by a specific event. Small things, all were adding little by little. And when he realized this, he hated himself.

How could he have feelings for you? He knew about Mista and you. He knew it had been a dumb move on his part. It was painful that everything about you was slowly drawing him in.

The way you trusted in him and told him the stories behind your tattoos, about your past, whe you lent him your favorite CDs for him to listen to.

He eventually found himself having dreams of you, in which he is holdong your hand or cuddling you. God, he hated this so much.

The time he saw Giorno doing things to Mista, he felt weird and felt the need to tell you. Could Mista really be cheating on you like that with the newbie?

When he told you, you found it hard to believe and asked Mista what happened, without addressing the fact that Narancia had seen them. Once Mista told you the whole thing, you laughed so hard at the fact that Narancia had misinterpreted the whole situation. "What is so funny? It really hurt pretty bad, okay? Imagine being shot 20 times!" "No, Mista, is not that. Nevermind, its not important anyways. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh, babe"

"Narancia, I talked to Mista about what happened, and it was a misunderstanding" "huh? It was? But-but Mista...and Giorno..." "Dont worry about it, its all cool now. It doesn't matter" You never told Narancia what really happened, it was funnier to let Narancia believe that Giorno had given head to Mista.

Narancia's own feelings began overwhelming him, and he had this urge to be honest with you.

"Hey, can I tell you something?" "Sure, Narancia. You can tell me anything, you know that"

"I dont want to screw up, but also I need to say this out loud..." "is everything alright?" "It is, I promise. I'm fine. And I'm gonna be fine. I just...I'm scared" "what are you scared of?" "Of losing you. Of losing Mista..." "Narancia, I'm not following...what are you talking about?"

"I think...I may have feelings for you"

You didn't know, but Mista was walking by when he head you talking to Narancia and before he could even walk in the room, he heard Narancia's confession and stood by the door, listening.

"Oh..." You whispered. "Listen, you don't have to say anything. I just wanted to let you know. Also, I'm not gonna interfere with you and Mista. You two are my best friends, and I think it's amazing that you're so in love with each other. You deserve each other."

"When did you..." "Not sure. It's not been long, though. You two were already dating when this happened..." "Does Mista know?" "No...not yet. I want to tell him, though...Oh god, do you think he'll kick my ass?" "C'mon, he wouldn't do that"

"Narancia, I'm so sorry..." "for what? Its not your fault. Its nobody's fault. It just happened...hopefully, now that you know this, it'll be easier for me to get over those feelings..."

You hugged Narancia, and continued to apologize despite him telling you not to.

Mista was about to start sobbing by the door.

Narancia was a bit distant for the next day, and you assumed it was because he was dealing with his feelings. Whenever you asked him if he was alright, he'd answer "yes, I am. I will be. I just need a bit of time"

Narancia eventually gathered the guts to talk to Mista. But Mista could easily tell what he was going to say.

"Mista..." "I know, Narancia. I may or may not have listened you guys talk a few days ago" "Oh...I...Are you....Wha—" "I'm not mas at you, man. It's not your fault, you didn't ask for this..."

"We're good, then?" "Of course we're good"

"What now?" Mista asked. "Now that you two know, I feel more at ease...Hopefully I'll get over these feelings soon...I just need time"

A few weeks went by, and Narancia remained distant. You were missing your friend, but you understood he needed time and space. Whenever he felt ready, he'd go back to hang out with the both of you.

Soon, Narancia started spending more and more time with you, andnthings slowly began coming back to normal.

"How are you?" You asked him one day. "I'm perfect! I told you I was gonna be fine!" "So...you...uh...did you..." Mista stuttered. "Almost! But I really missed hanging out with you, guys"

Mista wrapped an arm around Narancia's shoulder and brought him close, bumping his head with Narancia's. "I missed you too, you little bastard"

[njcklenjart]

Post-ftcog, Part 7

The brownstone looks exactly as Newt remembers and this time around, he enters without the need for secrecy. He takes a straight cut path past the small reception area, up the stairs and its creaking steps, and marches to the door with more urgency than he’s ever felt. He knocks once before he loses his nerve.

The door swings open like it’s been waiting for him and then Tina’s in front of him. She’s dressed in a long skirt, paler than usual, and her expression is a replica of what he saw in the mirror this morning, lovesick. She looks out of breath.

“You told me to chase after you,” he says in lieu of a greeting.

“I did.”

“But I don’t want to chase after you.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “That isn’t to say I won’t, but I’d rather you were nearby—near me. I want you—I want to see you everyday instead of writing letters, to talk to you in person. That way when I say the wrong thing—”

Tina steps past the door frame, just at the edge of his personal space. “You don’t say the wrong thing. It’s just… lost in translation.”

Newt heart does a funny beat at those words. It’s been so long since he’s met someone who understood him, accepted his words at value, and can’t believe that she’s standing right in front of him, nearly at his side. He has to do this right or else he’ll regret it forever.

“I-I know you have your job—“

“Had.”

“What?”

“Had my job. I went to Paris off the records and Madame President wasn’t happy about my report. I couldn’t tell her about Jacob and Queenie and…” She takes a breath. “Officially, I resigned yesterday.”

“That’s wonderful—no, not wonderful. I’m sorry you lost your job, Tina. I know it means so much to you. I—” It’s then that he finally sees the inside of her apartment, cleared out and devoid of personal belongings. A packed suitcase sits at her door. Newt glances between it and Tina, and his mouth moves on its own accord. “Would you like to stay in London?”

She looks at him apprehensively, like it’s a test. “For how long?”

“As long as you like.” He’s not sure what to do with his hands, gripping his sleeves else he do something uncouthly and incredibly forward. “I technically still work for the Ministry and you could to. I’m sure Theseus would gladly take you into his department.”

Tina sways forward. “I’m not one of them high-society girls, you know.”

“I know.”

“I’m not...” She stalls, but Newt knows who she’s referring too. He’s caged himself with his unrequited love for far too long, only realized his mistakes after Leta’s death. That chain won’t hold him back now, hasn’t for a long time.

“I know,” he says and the words are a weight lifted off his chest. It has him smiling because he’s so glad that she’s nothing like he expected, nothing like what he thought he wanted.

“And you still want me?”

He feels like he did in the record room, nervous and determined all at once. “I do.” They’re close now, the toes of their shoes touching, and he thinks his previous observation about her eyes is spot on. They burn like coals dropped in water and Newt can look at nothing else. “Very much in fact.”

Unwilling to hold off the urge any longer, Newt reaches out and grabs a hold of her hand. All at once, his worries are cleared at the contact, even more so when a lapel of his coat is in her grip. His chest seems to expand at her frantic nodding and the soft but passionate, “yes!” He cups her cheek, relieved. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.”

“I think I can guess.” Tina tilts her head slightly and Newt thinks back to the couple at the cafe in Paris, thinks he can follow the next step. Their noses brush—

The floorboards creak. “Is that you, Tina?”

Tina sighs and Newt studies the crease that forms between her brows as she frowns at the voice, put out. “Yes, Mrs. Esposito.”

“Are you alone?”

“Not alone, Mrs. Esposito.” Tina squeezes his hand and Newt smiles back at her. He picks up her suitcase while she quickly grabs her coat and she leads them down the stairs for the last time.

A middle-aged witch in a floral dress waits for them at ground level. She stares at Newt like he’s the first man she’s seen on the premises in three decades—and he might be. There’s a photograph of himself staring out from the magazine cover in her hands.

“Here’s the rent for this month,” Tina tells the women, dropping a collection of coins into her hand. She’s not one to beat around the bush and Newt considers himself incredibly lucky when he’s pulled to the door, everything about this moment spontaneous and wonderful. “Consider my lease expired.”

“Tina!”

Newt manages to get a word in before they slip through the door. “Feel free to send any final papers to London. Address them to Newt Scamander.”

Horns and sirens greats them when they step off the threshold and the noise of city life is overwhelming as always, but Newt finds that he doesn’t mind it much. With Tina’s hand fitted in his, navigating the world seems so simple, and he feels no fear in being lead along a path he has no idea where it will take him.

The Empire State Building is barely in view when he remembers something. “What about Achilles Tolliver?”

“Who?”

“The auror you’re dating.”

“Oh. I don’t know what he’s doing these days.” She scoffs and glances at him over the bridge of her nose. “After the first date, I couldn’t stand him. Something to do with most aurors being hypocrites.”

Newt can’t help himself. He pulls her close against his side, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek in a brazen act of public affection he would’ve never done before meeting her. Now, it’s absolutely invigorating. “That’s a relief.”

A strange sound escapes Tina, like she’s sucking in a deep breath, and then she’s grabbing his shirt. She bestows a kiss of her own, this one at the corner of his mouth. Newt nearly trips into an oncoming automobile before Tina pulls him back onto the corner. Someone whistles.

Newt’s absolutely giddy. They’re not expected back until mid-morning in England, so they have a few hours to themselves. With no rush, he’d like to spend time with Tina without interruption, maybe take a stroll through the park without the insistence of chasing after his creatures.

He must have mumbled it aloud because Tina turns sly. “Are you asking me out on a date, Mr. Scamander?”

“Yes. Would you, um, like to?”

“Aren’t you already whisking me away to England?” Newt flushes when she frames it like that, but supposes he is doing just that.

“More of leading you away, really.” He cringes, realizing he’s not making it any better.

“What’s this?” Nagini’s golden salamander peeks out of Newt’s pocket. Once she gets a good look at it, Tina laughs, plucking it from him (Pickett’s more than helpful to push it out of his personal space). “Ha! I love it!”

“It was for good luck,” Newt tells her and for some reason she finds that even funnier. They’ve stopped near Central Park and Tina’s pulling his coat so that they’re facing one another. Muggle pedestrians pass by, but they’re paid no attention to.

“Well, Mr. Salamander,” Tina says, grinning wide at her own joke, “how about you take me to dinner and then we’ll see if you get lucky.”

“Lucky with what?” he asks only for her to press her lips against his.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

[neoangelic]

Don’t Need Your Love

➳ an nct dream series

After a horrible first love experience, Yang Ahn joins the Don’t Need Your Love club via invitation. Things don’t turn out the way they were supposed to.

➳ a story of not-so-romance featuring: the coolest club on campus, the meaning of unrequited, teenagers, best friends, heartbreak, healing, first loves, and new ones.

➳ masterlist

➳ note: female oc, multiple pairings, ot7 dream, mentions of other ot21 members. ANON THIS IS FOR YOU uwu.

➳ word count: 2871

When I was eight, I had a crush on this boy named Mark Lee. I was visiting my relatives in Canada and he was my neighbor that summer. I always watched him from the yard as he biked up and down the street. He was a few years older than me and I thought he was the coolest boy ever. Especially with how fast he could ride his razor bicycle. One day while making a sharp turn, he fell on the sidewalk in front of my relative's house. Let's just say I was so worried that I almost called 119. Good thing that wasn't the right number in Canada. He taught me all he knew about riding bikes and skateboards after that—although I wasn't particularly skilled at the latter sport. 

And then summer ended. I never saw him again. Not even when I visited Canada again two years later. Nobody knew where he went. 

In sixth grade, I liked the exchange student named Yangyang who my family hosted. I was one of the only people who could also speak fluent English so we talked a lot. He'd teach me German and I'd teach him Korean. We became best friends quickly. He called me meimei once and I asked what it meant. "Little sister," he said. I told him to never call me that again. He was hurt by that. We drifted apart after. On the day he went back to China I cried so much, telling him I was sorry and that he shouldn't leave. He was late for his flight, so I never did find out if he forgave me or not. 

In the first year of my high school life, however, I met my first love. My first and my last. Out of all the puppy-struck crushes and boys who've left me, my first love hurt me the most. I'd love to catch up with Mark or apologize to Yangyang a million more times but I never wanted to even hear the name of the first love which died before it could even blossom. 

His name was Huang Renjun and I never wanted to see him again. 

And there he was, barely 20 feet away, sitting in one of the desks in the far corner of the room, looking down at his phone. The boy with the cat-like, sharp eyes. The boy who I managed to avoid for months.

The boy who I loved. And maybe still did. 

And he, of course, was heartbreakingly beautiful as always. 

The irony left a sickening sweet taste in my mouth. The millisecond I saw him, my legs didn’t dare move from behind the open doorway. My lips felt dry no matter how much I licked them. My hands wouldn't stop shaking no matter how hard I clasped them. My breath felt stuck in my throat as my eyes were on his figure. My heart skipped and fell like a missed step down a set of stairs. It tumbled around my ribcage and crashed so hard that I became scared that he could hear the sound of my heart falling for him all the way in the past. I was scared.

I reached for my shoulder, feeling the material of cloth and a sticker skip on my fingertips. My gaze fell to Harvey who stood behind the teacher’s podium in front of me. I tried to remember that I was here to support him. The sticker on my shoulder—the promise on my shoulder did nothing to shake my nerves away. He was staring at me with a concerned expression. A breathy apology trembled from my lips before he could draw attention to me. Before Renjun saw me.

I was scared, so I ran. 

A voice called my name, but the adrenaline kicked in too well.

“Ahn-ah, where are you going?” I turned a corner to try to escape the voice, wanting to be alone. “It’s Jeno—Jesus, stop running.”

My back hit the wall and I slid down in defeat. There was no way I was going to outrun him anyway. 

“Hi,” I said weakly, staring at Jeno’s black loafers as they came into view. He crouched down and met my eye.

“What are you doing?” That was when I noticed the red sticker placed on his chest. A dripping heart with the letters ‘DNYL’ outlined in yellow. The same one on my shoulder. “The meeting is gonna start soon.”

I scoffed. “What does it look like? I’m not going.”

“Sit properly when you’re wearing a skirt,” he said, nudging my shoulder with his as he sat down next to me. “Why aren’t you going?”

I straightened my legs, smoothing out the plaits in my skirt. “Cause I saw Renjun there.” An uncomfortable feeling shot through my chest as I said his name.

A sigh came from Jeno. “Come on, I think you really need this. If Hyuck were here, he’d agree, too.”

I cringed. “But it's just so awkward.”

“That’s only because you’re making it awkward. You always do.”

“Shut up. I don’t even know how you knew I was going to join this stupid club.”

“Aside from seeing the sticker on your shoulder while you were running away oh-so dramatically,” he let out a heavy breath. “I was the one who gave Harvey the tip to recruit you.”

I looked at him when he said that. “You what? You’re the reason why he came up to me thirty minutes ago talking about unrequited love?”

“I didn’t tell him about everything,” Jeno reassured. “You were working on your literature project, right?”

“I mean, yeah.” 

“I just said he’d be interested in talking to you. I guess he put everything together when you were probably fuming over the topic Ms. Han decided to give you—”

“I can’t believe I have to study and write about love this whole fucking year,” I grumbled. I thought to get a head start on the project today. Unfortunately, as students filtered out of the classroom, it was prime time for girls or boys to come in and meet their significant other. I felt surrounded by couples and people having flings. It didn’t help that I had to study romantic literature either. Harvey must have caught me in the middle of writing something like: I’m glad Romeo and Juliet died because they don’t have brains to figure out the other was feigning death.

“Anyways,” Jeno said. “Harvey came up to me this morning to talk to me.”

“How good could your English possibly be?” I laughed.

“It was a very broken conversation using bits and pieces of Google translate. As I was saying…he knew about, you know—her,” there was a heavy moment of silence. “He heard the rumors last year and he talked about how he wanted to help me put everything behind. He somehow knew I wasn’t over the whole getting cheated on thing, despite looking like I did. Harvey’s pretty observant, I guess.” A bitter chuckle escaped him.

“Yeah,” I said softly, almost scared that Jeno would break, seeing his sour expression. “He told me a few people inspired his idea for this thing.”

“He also told me you gave him the idea to select and invite people to DNYL,” he looked at me, searching for a reaction. “You wouldn’t have said anything if you weren’t wanting help yourself.”

“Jeno—”

“Whether you knew it or not, it was a call for help. I know you’re bitter over romance and everything, even if you can’t seem to stay away…” I elbowed him at that remark. “I think this is a good opportunity to just let everything go. DNYL is a place where we can all heal. I truly believe that. The question is if you’re gonna close yourself out from this opportunity.”

“I know I promised Harvey I would go today to see if I was into it but—” I sighed. “I don’t know if I can face Renjun if I never resolved my feelings for him.”

“You don’t have to worry about any of that,” Jeno laughed lightly. “There’s a reason why he’s there too.”

The cogs in my brain started working. For once. Why would Renjun Huang not need love?

I frowned. “There’s no reason for him to join—didn’t he have a girlfriend?” He liked her a lot.

“You still care about him, right? As a friend?”

“Of course I do, oppa. He was still a friend no matter how much I liked him.”

“So why run away? I think it’s too late for that now. You’ve already talked to Harvey and Renjun’s there because he’s hurt too. So am I. We’re all going for the same reason and you can take this time to clear everything up.”

I looked down and smiled, chuckling. “Jeno Lee, that was pretty best friend material of you.”

He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants before stretching out a hand toward me. “Didn’t you know? All my clothes are made of that material.”

I grabbed his hand and rolled my eyes. “Lame.”

“What?” Jeno helped pull  me up

“I thought we were having a sentimental moment here, but it turns out you’re still as mood-killing as ever.”

“Whatever,” he clicked his tongue. “If you think about running, I won’t hesitate to drag you back to the club room.”

The one thing that never changed since I met Jeno was his sense of humor. He was funny himself, but when he tried to make a joke it was like the air around us would cringe. Sometimes his jokes were funny, but Donghyuck told me not to acknowledge it or he would get too arrogant. Jeno was funny in the way that he was allergic to cats but had three kittens. He was funny in the way that he owned his Jenojaem nickname without complaint. He was funny in his own dorky, heartwarming way and that’s what made me grow so comfortable with him. Donghyuck was funny, but it took me two weeks to realize that he wasn’t actually bullying me and that he was just trying to be my friend. I liked Jeno’s predictability and transparency. It was different, for a change. 

Unlike other boys who always sent mixed messages.

And boys are almost never worth it. Especially boys that disappear like childhood crushes or boys that make you forget you never had a chance with them. Just like the boy who was a little too playful and sweet when he taught me Chinese. In fact, Renjun was the only boy I could ever find funnier than Donghyuck and he was the only boy that saw the lovestruck side of me. Not like he knew that, of course.

Not like he knew that.

The funny thing was, I wasn’t scared because I was hurt. I was scared because I was embarrassed I once fell in love so hard with a boy.

But once I started thinking of the smiley snaggle-toothed boy in a desperate not need for love, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit brave for once. If something happened to him, then I wanted to know. I wanted to be there for him as a friend again like he was for me when I spent a little over an hour learning a single phrase in Chinese. I wanted to get to know him again so that I could finally get to know me. It was sort of relieving to know I wasn’t the only one struggling with feelings and I guess that was Harvey's plan. 

I linked arms with Jeno, looking up to the samoyed-looking boy as we walked back toward the door I ran away from. He looked down at me with a cocked eyebrow.

“Thank you.”

“Just trying to win some brownie points before Hyuck comes back,” he gave a cheesy smile, eyes rising into crescents.

Harvey’s eyes lit up when he saw us walk in the room. 

“I was wondering if you two would show up.”

“Yeah, sorry. I had to run to the bathroom real quick and bumped into him,” I lied, peeking at the Chinese boy from the corner of my vision. 

Aside from Renjun, two more boys were in the room. One was next to Harvey and the other was sitting in front, awkwardly fiddling with his fingers.

“Oh? Jeno?” The boy who spoke had really pretty eyes. Na Jaemin. The boy with the smile. His long and curled lashes elegantly brushed his skin as he blinked. I couldn’t help but stare.

“Jaemin-ah, you’re here too?”

Na Jaemin was Jeno’s friend from his after-school academy. I talked to him a few times before since he always hung around him. But other than that, I knew him just as the rest of the school did: a flirt. A heartbreaker, they say. Always going on from one girl to the next, rejecting them left and right after leading them on. He was a total dreamboat who managed to make your heart flutter with the way he simply breathed. My classmates were head-over-heels for him, although I can’t say the same. He was charming but I didn’t want to get close to him because I was scared to have someone that charismatic and attractive around me. Jaemin could tell me to do anything and I would do it—especially with that pretty face and smile. I kept my distance whenever he was around. Something about him made me feel timid. Maybe it was the fact that I felt inferior in every way. Maybe it was because there was no way in hell a boy could be as nice as Jaemin was.

“First we go to the same hakwon and now the same club? What are we? Soulmates?” He smiled, gentle and sweet like the tone of his voice. Jaemin’s eyes flickered to meet mine. I looked away immediately, embarrassed.

“Don’t know if I like that idea,” Jeno grimaced.

“Glad to know you two know each other already,” Harvey cut in. “You guys should have a seat before I start the meeting.”

Jaemin slung his arm over Jeno’s broad shoulders, roping him into a conversation as they found a seat next to the awkward mousy boy at the front. He looked at the two energetic boys nervously when they greeted him. I barely managed to hear his name as he introduced himself in a shy whisper. 

 “Jisung Park,” he said with shaky syllables and red cheeks. The two boys gushed over how adorable Jisung was.

My eyes landed on Renjun’s lonely figure. His cheek was leaning against his palm, his other hand held the phone he stared at. He was uncharacteristically unresponsive. I didn’t see the light in his eyes with or the joking smile on his face that I fell in love with. He had AirPods in, shutting himself off from the rest of us. I was glad he didn’t notice me yet, but something about his hunched shoulders and indiscernible expression tugged at my heartstrings.

I looked back at Harvey who was focused on the clock as if counting the seconds that passed by. “There’s only six of us?”

“Sadly,” he shifted his weight and turned his attention to me. “Others weren’t so eager about this whole thing.”

“Hey, don’t be sad,” I smiled. “I think it’s better this way. We’re kinda… exclusive.” The blond laughed.

“Kind of, yeah,” he said. “Everyone else couldn’t see this helping them on their college resume, so I see why they wouldn’t waste their time here.”

“Well, I’d love to prove them all wrong,” I said, eyes floating back to Renjun’s figure. “I think what you’re doing here is amazing, Harvey.”

He smiled, genuine. “Thanks.”

Before the first meeting of DNYL even started, we were unsure. None of us knew what we were doing or where this club would go. Not even Harvey. We were all lost teenagers, searching for some sort of meaning that probably didn’t even matter. For the boy who I was talking to, it was a legacy to leave. An urge to start something beautiful. For the boy who claimed to be my best friend, it was to let go and heal. He was searching for something to replace the band-aids on the bullet wounds in his heart. For the boy with the pretty eyes and the boy with the shy smile—well, I wasn’t so sure. And I was completely lost on what my first love—the reason why I, myself, joined—was searching for.  He didn’t even look like he wanted to be here, but here he was.

Here we all were, high schoolers on a breezy autumn Friday as the leaves shifted color. We all walked through that door for a reason whether we waltzed in or ran away at first. Maybe the important part wasn’t how we came here, but the fact that we came at all. Here we all were. Despite the impracticality of the club and the burdensome feeling that everyone would know we were hurt by love in one way or another, we came.

But I didn’t know all the answers. I couldn’t even pretend to know what everyone was thinking. It would be useless if I knew them.

Answers were what I came searching for, after all.

<< the coolest club on campus | masterlist | rules and time bombs>>

[silenthillmutual]

if ur ships in danganronpa could translate into quadrants from homestuck, what would they be? for example, naegiri be moirails, sakura and aoi fluctuate between pale and red, etc. doesn't have to be clear cut, cuz quadrants get messy lol. mostly curious about what ishimondo would be like, i'd imagine there'd be a lot of switching quadrants between them lmao.

ANON UR SPEAKIN MY LANGUAGE

in fact i had to put this under a cut bc it got SUPER long sdfsd

I think Makoto would be like Kanaya. He’s The Auspistice(TM), whether he wants to be or not. Everyone just assigns him to being in the middle of everything. Eventually he’s able to convince Mondo and Taka to find someone else to ♣️ their relationship, so that winds up falling on Chihiro.

For the record, hard agree on Makoto ♦️ Kyouko. I do ship them romantically, but my hc for Kyouko is that she’s aro. I think Bykauya would be kinda Eridan in that trying-really-hard-to-be-someone’s-kismesis front. Like he’d try to be Kyouko’s even though she tries to indicate she’s not interested, then he’d be really spades for Makoto after awhile - although I don’t think that Makoto would really feel that way back. If I were going to go so far as to complete a Homestuck AU, I’d think he’d be one of the human kids, actually. So he’d be extra weirded out by the trolls dragging him into their romance stuff. I think Byakuya would also try and make himself have black feelings for Junko and failing that just try antagonizing everyone else in the class to find something that sticks. 

(I really like the idea of him trying to do that to Mondo and Mondo being weirdly offended bc he’s already dedicated himself to a kismesis.)

Kind of obviously, Toko would have an unrequited Flushed Crush on Byakuya (but since I don’t really ship that I wouldn’t keep that a thing, I’d probably have Toko move onto Makoto’s sister but I haven’t played UDG yet so I’m not sure where I’d go with that?) and Mukuro would have one on Makoto. The latter would feel forced into being her sister’s Moirail...I like Mukuro more than to ever write her staying like that, lol. I kind of like Makoto/Mukuro/Kyouko as a ship, so maybe Mukuro and Kyouko being pale or red? I’d probably have Kyouko’s actual kismesis be Celes. And I don’t think there’s anyone in in the class I could see Celes having as a matesprit, although she’d probably string along Hifumi so she can use him. She’d probably decide Makoto is her moirail because I could just see Makoto being everyone’s fill-in option for whatever quadrant they have missing.

Sakura and Hina would absolutely fluctuate between pale and flushed, and people probably would think it’s weird that they don’t look to fill either quadrant elsewhere. I think they’d be like the Rose/Kanaya of the group. 

Soooooo I think Chihiro would be Mondo’s moirail, their friendship does kinda have a Nepeta ♦️ Equius feel to it (and I do ship Chihiro ♥️ Makoto so that works out too). I also kind of ship Taka and Makoto, so I’d probably have it be like, Taka is like the second closest Makoto would have to a moirail after Kyouko and he doesn’t mind that Taka has the pale feelings for him because he doesn’t really force it on Makoto. 

I don’t have any Homestuck reactions saved anymore so I can’t remember who had this reaction? My gut instinct says Karkat, BUT I seem to remember someone having a reaction image where they just had the quadrants symbols were just rapidly looping because they couldn’t figure out what they were feeling and I think THAT is Taka & Mondo’s relationship. 

I actually think it’s kind of funnier if it starts out with them like insisting that they don’t even have caliginous feelings for each other, they just flat hate each other, and everyone is just like “.......okay,” about it. But like once they admit that’s an actual relationship they have they don’t really act like that’s the quadrant their relationship is in because Taka’s weirdly happy about it. They actually schedule time to antagonize each other and whenever someone points out that’s kind of counter-intuitive, Mondo should just go bother him NOW, that’s what’s most inconvenient, he’s always like “what the fuck no? that would be rude. i’m not gonna do that we have a relationship here.” So everyone even in the vicinity of this bullfuckery is confused. 

Eventually they wind up having a heart-to-heart because Taka’s clearly not feeling being annoyed/being annoying and that bothers Mondo and he’s not sure whether that’s something he can/should bring up or not, and when they actually talk it out Mondo’s like “oh SHIT what quadrant is this” and has to like. Break moirails w Chihiro for a bit because he doesn’t think he’s supposed to have two and he isn’t sure what quadrant this qualifies as and he’s sitting there with the rapidly vascillating quadrants in his head all day every day.

I think Mondo’s like Karkat in a way (ig in part bc i hc him as a Blood player) so i think he’d have that whole “you want her in every quadrant like a desperate fool” conversation with himself that Karkat has w/himself about Terezi, probably right around the time Taka realizes that he doesn’t find Mondo as irritating as he used to and he’s probably looking at one of the lighter quadrants, if not both of them. So Chihiro has to auspistice or something like it again, not because they run the risk of killing each other but because they are both just so very stupid with emotions that they can’t really have a proper conversation about what’s going on.

I think after that though they’d probably have a relatively stable grasp on their relationship being flushed and drifting into more pink or black areas occasionally. 

SORRY that got long! Also I don’t have a ton of ships for sdr2, but I’m kinda thinking  Sonia Gundham Akane, Gundham Fuyuhiko Imposter, and my default for Hiyoko is /

Also that kinda makes me wonder how Mechamaru would work out, you know, since there is a canon mech version of a character in Homestuck. Would that mean Souda programs Mechamaru to be ♥️ for him? 

The only other real opinion I have is Juzo

[cottonpadenthusiast]

Home

Word Count: 3434

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14915576

The tension in Draco’s shoulders finally seeped away, as the smell of worn books and wood filled his nostrils. Thank Merlin for Muggle libraries, he thought, squeezing himself deeper into the old leather chair. Today had been a Bad Day. One of the worst in a while actually, and it wasn’t as if Draco’s daily life was all that great either. He had decided to venture out for food after he had realised that half a Chocolate Frog and a can of Butterbeer was the only food left in his two-bedroom apartment in London. Draco hadn’t left his house in four days, knowing that outside he would be met with hexes and curses and hatred, nothing unusual for Draco Malfoy. But this time he knew it would be worse. The Daily Prophet had published an image of a very drunk Draco making out behind a club with someone who was very much a man. And put on the front page. And used the headline, “EX-DEATH EATER, NOW ASS-EATER “. How imaginative. It wasn’t as if Draco was trying to hide his sexuality, he just wanted to tell Mother before every wizard and witch across the country knew he was gay. She had been extremely understanding of course, and Draco hated to admit the number of tears he had shed when she told him she still loved him, no matter whom he loved. If Father hadn’t died a year earlier the situation might have been slightly different, but Draco refused to think about that. Aside from the immense relief of his mother’s approval, Draco now knew that he was even more vulnerable to abuse. Abuse that he was met with immediately after entering Diagon Alley that day. Men spat at his feet, mothers steered their children away from him and not only was he now a “murderous bastard”, but a “disgusting faggot”. He didn’t even reach the shop before someone had punched him in the face; his left cheek was now a gruesome shade of purple due to the blow. Draco was used to guilt and shame and regret, but never before had he been punished for doing the only good thing in the world; loving someone.

Draco brought his thoughts back to the book he was holding in his pale hands. A Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. It was in pristine condition (Draco hated bent spines and tattered covers) and he was over halfway through. His upbringing had prevented Draco from ever reading Muggle literature, but on a particularly stormy day a few months ago, he had run into this Muggle library, seeking shelter from the rain, but what he found was more than just a place to stay dry. This library had turned into Draco’s safe place, almost a second home. He was a nobody in here, not a criminal, or a Death Eater, just another reader, except with a slightly eccentric taste in fashion. Draco visited this library twice a week, and Marge, the elderly librarian, who always smelt of roses and rich tea biscuits, now even kept books for Draco that she thought he would like. She had recommended this particular book to Draco while providing information on Wilde’s background and “preference of men”. Draco was already enchanted with the story, while relating almost a little too much to Dorian’s wish to remain young and sinless. But Draco already had the scars. Draco wasn’t given a choice. It was too late for him.

Draco was just learning of Dorian’s desire to sell his soul when a mop of black unruly hair floated by in the corner of his eye. No. No, it couldn’t be. No way in hell. But as Draco jerked his head up to search for the blob of black between the shelves of paperbacks, piercing emerald eyes caught grey ones. You have got to be kidding me, Draco thought, as Harry Potter, the Saviour of Wizarding World, sauntered over to Draco.

Potter was wearing Muggle jeans and a white top that accentuated his broad shoulders and contrasted with his dark skin. Bloody Potter, Draco thought, tearing his eyes away from Potter’s abs. Draco swiftly set the book down and straightened himself up. Whatever insults Potter wanted to throw at him, Draco would be ready. He didn’t want to deal with Potter’s petty nonsense, today of all days. Potter finally reached Draco, looming over him with a wicked grin on his face.

“Hello, Malfoy.”

Draco glared. “What do you want, Potter?”

“Well, I was just wondering what the hell you are doing in a Muggle library,” Potter replied, his voice full of amusement.

“I could ask you the same thing. I thought only read newspaper clippings retelling your remarkable acts of heroism,” Draco retorted. He was not going to be a source of entertainment for Potter’s sick humour.

Potter snorted. “I know it may seem surprising, but I actually do enjoy books other than textbooks and biographies about my life. I was more confused about the fact that Draco Malfoy is sitting curled up in a corner of a Muggle library, reading a Muggle book.”

“People change, Potter,” Draco replied, his chin raised indignantly.

“I know,” Potter murmured softly. The gentleness made Draco look, really look, into the scarred face. The last Potter had used that voice with him, which made Draco feel warm and fuzzy inside, was over a year ago. Potter had run up to him at the start of the eighth year, his breath ragged, and thanked him for not identifying him that day in the Manor. Potter’s soft, “thank you” had been the first time Draco had felt appreciated in a long time. Those two words, from that one person, often provided Draco with a source of comfort during the dark times of that year.

Potter must have noticed the foreign look on Draco’s face as he bent over to see what book Draco was reading, snapping the blonde back to reality.

“The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde?” Potter’s voice was questioning but there was a hint something Draco couldn’t quite catch.

“Yes… It is a highly enjoyable read. Wilde’s wit and humour really are-” Draco stopped. Oh shit, he thought, because Draco had just realised why Potter was looking at him like that. Oscar Wilde was gay. Draco Malfoy had been outed as gay less than a week ago. He has seen it. Oh Merlin, he’s seen the Daily Prophet. Draco’s brain had gone into panic mode. Harry Potter, his childhood enemy and crush, knew he was gay and had come over here to laugh at him. And the fact Draco had been reading The Picture of Dorian Gray had not helped matters. It was like Draco had been trying to achieve the world record for, “The Gayest Man on Earth.” He needed to leave. Right. Now.

Draco mumbled a quick, “Goodbye, Potter,” before leaping out of his chair, and bolting out of the library. He would not, could not stay to watch the look of disgust on Potter’s face that would appear when Draco’s sexuality was made evident. Draco knew Harry would never feel the same. He had dealt with the turmoil and heartbreak that was involved with being in love with Harry Potter, but he was beginning to accept the unrequited love, beginning to learn to live a life without Harry Potter in it. He had faced Potter’s hatred and suspicion and loathing, but Draco would not survive if he ever saw Harry look at him in repulsion. Draco may be gay, but he did not deserve to be treated like nothing.

“Malfoy, wait! Stop!” Draco was halfway down the stone steps when Potter’s shouts reached him. He quickened his pace, the cool summer’s breeze whipping across his face.

“Please Draco. I’m not angry about you being… gay. I just want to talk.”

“Leave me alone, Potter.” Draco tried not to let his emotions show who through his voice.

“Please, Draco.”

Draco slowed to a stop and glanced over his shoulder. Potter was standing a few feet away, shifting nervously on his feet. He ran a hand through the unruly black hair.

“I’m sorry for scaring you off. I just- I think we need to talk. About everything.” The green eyes were imploring Draco to stay. He seemed genuine. Draco’s heart clenched painfully at the sight of Potter, his shirt rippling in the wind. He sighed heavily.

“Ok, Potter,” he said reluctantly. The two trudged over to the wooden bench opposite in silence. The shadow of an oak tree provided them with shelter against the sun, and the only noises were the rustling of the leaves and the whirring of cars as they drove by. Draco closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of freshly cut grass.

“I’m sorry about the Daily Prophet article.” Draco opened his eyes and turned his head to face Potter. “It’s not right what they did.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have been more careful,” Draco replied. They stared at each other, something unknown passing between them, before Draco broke the gaze and glanced ahead.

“Draco… how did you get that bruise?” Potter asked carefully.

Draco reached up to touch the sensitive skin but swiftly pulled his hand away when a sharp pain spread across his cheek. “That is none of your concern, Potter.”

“It is my concern if someone I care-,” Potter paused. “If someone I know is getting hurt.” Draco could feel the tension rising.

“Well thank you for your concern, Potter, but I am very capable of looking after myself,” Draco retorted.

“Evidently not if you’ve got that on your face. Who was it, Malfoy?” Potter demanded.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Malfoy, would you just bloody tell me!”

“Just drop it, Potter. For Merlin’s sake!”

“No. I’m not dropping it. Who was it?”

Draco spun round to face the black-haired man. “It. Was. No. One.”

“Just tell me!”

“Fine, Potter! I’ll tell you. I was walking to the shop this morning when some stranger came up and punched me in the face. And do you wanna know why? Because I like men.” Draco laughed but there was no humour in the sound. “It’s funny, isn’t it? And it’s not even the first time. But you know what is even funnier? The fact that I’m gay means that I’m not only a “criminal” but also a “vile human being”. Fucking hilarious! I wonder if my life is yet horrendous enough to make up for all the lives my family has ruined. What do you think, Potter? Do you think I can ever make up for all the shitty things I’ve done? Or am I damned to live a life I deserve? A life of suffering and guilt and hurt.” Draco stopped abruptly when he saw the horrified look on Potter’s face. He felt tears prick behind his eyes as he leant back against the wooden bench. I’m going insane, Draco thought, closing his eyes and allowing the darkness to overcome the light of the evening. How did his life end up this way? It was his own fault, he supposed. He was never brave enough to do the right thing and now he had to pay the price. A single tear fell down his cheek, but he didn’t care about Potter seeing him cry. He had lost everything, so what would it matter if he lost Potter too?

Draco heard Potter rustling in his bag, probably getting ready to leave, but he refused to open his eyes, knowing that if he did, more tears would fall. However, his eyes shot open whenever he felt warm, calloused fingers spreading a jelly-like substance on his bruised cheek. Potter was so gentle, Draco could hardly feel him rubbing the cream into his skin.

“What are you doing?” Draco croaked. He could feel Potter’s hot breath fan across his face.

“It’s Hopkins’ Bruise Paste. I always carry some since I have a tendency to knock into things.” Potter chuckled. Green eyes met grey ones, and Draco could almost feel the warmth that passed between them.

“Thank you,” Draco said softly, as Potter pulled away. He could already feel the skin begin to heal, yet he craved the warmth of those rough hands on his face again.

The sky around the two was alive, pinks and oranges and purples spread like paint strokes. Draco wished he could stay here, in this moment, with this boy forever.

“You never did tell me why you were in a Muggle library,” Harry stated, a smile toying at his lips. So Draco told him of the rain, and his refuge from it, and the sweet Marge, and the comforting solitude he found in the library. They talked, and laughed, and Draco realised how much he adored the sound of Potter’s roaring laugh, and how much more he adored it when he was the one causing it. Draco was enchanted with the way Harry’s dark skin glowed in the golden rays of the evening, and the way his hands moved with a gentleness that contrasted with his strong build. Most of all, Draco remembered why he had fallen in love with Harry Potter in the first place, and found more reasons to fall deeper in love with him.

When the sky had transformed to lilacs and purples, Harry turned to Draco and asked him tenderly, “How did you realise you were gay?”

At first, Draco was taken aback by the question. He searched the face for any signs of cruelty but found none, only genuine curiosity and something in the emerald eyes Draco couldn’t quite place. How was he meant to answer this question? He could lie and tell Harry that he had just always known, but he didn’t want to do that. He knew that Harry deserved to know the truth, whatever the consequences.

“You,” Draco whispered. He studied the pavement, not daring to meet Potter’s gaze.

“What?” Potter replied, after moments of agonizing silence.

“You. You made me realise I was gay.” Draco paused, gathering all the courage he had. “I’ve had a crush on you since fourth year, just took me a while to realise that I would much rather be kissing you, than hexing you.”

“But how? How did you hide it? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Draco sniggered. “You are hardly the most observant, Potter. I could have worn a sign saying, “I AM IN LOVE WITH HARRY POTTER,” and you still would have been as oblivious as always. And I didn’t tell you because you hated me.”

“I never hated you, Draco. Maybe disliked you, but I never hated you.” Draco could hear the sincerity in Potter’s voice. He was silent for a few moments. “It’s just-well, I think I might be…”

“Yes, Potter?”

“I think I might be bisexual.” The tremor in Harry’s voice had Draco spinning his head around.

“What?!” Now it was Draco’s turn to be shocked and utterly confused. This had to be a joke. But the terrified look on Potter’s face proved otherwise. “You are… bisexual?” Draco said questioningly.

Harry nodded.

“And I’m guessing from the look on your face that I’m the first person you have told?”

Harry nodded again.

“Ok. Well, I’m proud of you for coming out I suppose. Congratulations.” Draco was not the best at giving emotional support. It seemed enough, however, as Harry sighed heavily in relief, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It was a stark reminder to Draco of his own reaction when he told Pansy in sixth year.

“Thank you, Draco. It means a lot,” Potter said, his voice filled with gratitude. Draco gave him a small smile in return. The two sat in a comfortable silence, words seeming unnecessary and inadequate for the emotions they were feeling.

“Wait…” Draco arched his eyebrow at Harry, waiting for him to finish.

“You said you were in love with me. When you were talking about the crush. Do you… Are you in love with me?” Potter exclaimed. Oh shit. He did not mean to say that. At all. This was not good. He had only meant to tell Harry about the crush, not the fact he was head over heels in love with him.

“Fuck, I don’t- I can’t. Shit.” Draco didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t exactly deny it.

“Are you?” Potter persisted.

“Yes! Ok? For Merlin’s sake, I’m completely in love with you. Are you happy now? Do you know how hard it is to pretend I hate you? That I don’t care about you? It is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ruining everything. ” Draco swallowed and breathed out heavily. “Sometimes the pain of watching you hate me was worse than any Crucio.” Draco’s voice was soft. He had lost everything. Even the joyful tune of the birds did little to console his aching heart. He had never felt so alone.

He had lost everything.

Potter’s face turned serious and he inched his body closer to Draco’s crouched form.

“Like I said before, I never hated you Draco. But how do you know I wasn’t pretending too?”

Draco’s heart lurched. What? A flutter of hope rippled across his chest.

“You see, for the past few years, I’ve been convincing myself that my obsession with you was just suspicion. That I thought you were up to something.” Harry’s voice was less than a whisper. “Until last year, when you obviously were not doing anything evil, and yet I still had a strong urge to be near you all the time. It seems we were both hiding the same thing.”  

Draco stopped breathing. Harry’s face was inches from his own, and those green eyes were staring at his lips. This can’t be real, Draco thought as he gradually brought his face closer and closer to Harry’s own, until their noses were touching.

“I love you,” Harry murmured, before slamming their lips together.

Draco raked his hands through Harry’s black curls, the way he had wanted to since he was fifteen. Potter’s lips were soft and hot, sending shivers down Draco’s spine while Harry gripped his hips, pulling their bodies against each other. Although the sun was setting, Draco felt as if the sun inside his chest was beaming brighter than ever before, casting away the shadows inside his heart. Finally, Draco thought as his tongue searched Potter’s mouth. Finally, Draco thought as Harry pulled away, trailing kisses down his neck. Finally, Draco thought as he rested his head on Harry’s shoulder and felt as if he had found his way home.

Draco looked up at the stars, the constellations vivid in the clear night. His long legs were draped across Harry’s and his head tucked under Harry’s own.

“I’ve always wanted to learn the constellations,” Harry said, breaking the silence. He was looking at the stars in awe, but when he turned to face Draco his expression didn’t change.

“I could teach you, if you like.”

Harry grinned. “Really? I would love that.”

“Come to my place tomorrow at eight. Although we will have to go somewhere where there is less light pollution, if you really wanna see the constellations. Maybe we could get dinner after,” Draco suggested. He smirked as a flush spread up Harry’s cheeks.

“Yeah, I’d love to. I mean, yeah, sounds good.” Draco sniggered at how flustered Harry seemed at even the mention of a date.

Draco lifted himself up, stretching his tired muscles. “I suppose I better be on my way. A man needs his beauty sleep after all.”

Harry swiftly got on his feet, and pulled Draco into a sweet, but deep kiss. “See you tomorrow. I love you” he whispered into the blonde’s ear. Before Draco had even responded, Harry had Apparated away.

“Cocky bastard,” Draco muttered, touching his lips. He Apparated into his own living room, the warm air closing around his body and a smile still plastered on his face.

As Draco’s mind whirred with thoughts that night in bed, unable to sleep, he knew with a shocking certainty that he had found a home in Harry Potter. Not long before, he had felt he belonged nowhere, his life destined to be one of isolation and solitude. But as he closed his eyes, finally drifting off, he realised he had more than one place to call home; his cosy flat, Pansy, his mother, the Muggle library and, most recently, in the arms of Harry Potter. And he would never let anyone take these away from him, not even a stupid, magical newspaper.

Thank you for reading this. It means the world! I have never actually read, “A Picture of Dorian Gray so I feel like a bit of a fake fan, but I freaking love Oscar Wilde. He’s a gay icon for this gay month. Anyway, hope you enjoyed xxx

[barbecuedphoenix]

Which chick movie do you think the Eldarya guys would (really, really, in a embarrassing way) love?

This was a fun request. ^u^

It’s just a shame that Idon’t know that many chick-flicks, so I included a few male-POV romances toround this out. I tried my best. :(

So, assuming that the guyswere spirited away to the 20th - 21st century humanrealm, and grew up here watching our movies…

Nevra

Are you kidding? He knows all the chick-flicks! Growing up with akid sister, he used to watch at least one romance a week. (Frankly, this started out as a way to keep her out oftrouble on weekends, but it morphed into a routine once she entered her tweens.Now, they still meet up for movie marathons every few weeks. It’s theirguilty pleasure.)

He is definitely not ashamedof watching chick movies. Their stories generally have more character and heartthan, say, testosterone-pumped action flicks that all guys are ‘supposed’ towatch. Not to mention that women’s movies have a much higher proportion of eye candy because of the female lead’sscreen time…

But the biggest real life benefit?Knowing and liking chick-flicks is a boonwhen a guy is picking up a date. You all wonder why Nevra is so popular withwomen? Blame his sister for training him up on their entertainment.

What he enjoys:

Powerful and ambitious,but flawed heroes with initially zero chance of ‘getting the girl’… and gettheir hearts stomped on at least once. Their common Achilles heel:loneliness.    

Plucky, but innocentheroines who unknowingly hold the power to twist their man’s heart. And ifthey’re smoking-hot on the screen, he’s got another good reason to watch themovie.

Power-games, schemes,and corporate backstabbing shenanigans, where there is no clear dividebetween wrong and right.

Snappy dialogue witha cynical touch

(Crazily) balancing life’s priorities: first sacrificing love on the altar for ambition, power,reputation, etc. And then sacrificing more to get it back.

Redemption andforgiveness for the lead(s).

Personaltransformation in order to get ahead in life, and then again to win or save arelationship. (i.e. rags-to-riches Cinderella themes)

High-budget movieswith A-list actors; he likes qualityentertainment, thank you. He’ll also watch anything with Harrison Ford init.

Favorite ‘chick’ movies:

Sabrina (the1995 remake): This movie embodies everything Nevra loves in a romantic-comedy.He loves the story, the dialogue, and all the actors. But he reallyfeels for the hero Linus (quote from the movie: ‘the world’s only living heartdonor’), who starts off seducing the heroine to save his family’s businessinterests and his brother’s engagement, only to fall in love with her.Then gets the door slammed in his face once the love-of-his-life learns hisreasons and leaves the country. …What? He swears that has never happened to him before.

The Devil Wears Prada (2006): This is more of a laugh-fest for Nevrathan a romance. Keeping your head above water using your wits in NYC, whilescurrying around for an ultra-glamorous, fire-breathing boss with personalissues? Andy isn’t the typical heroine he likes to follow, but he sure wisheshe has an employee like her. But he is nota fire-breathing boss! What are you implying?  

Disney’s Beauty and the Beast(1991): You read that correctly. Whether animated, live-action, or on Broadway,this classic holds a firm place in Nevra’s heart. This is also the one moviehe’s embarrassed to love. He was skeptical first at watching aG-rated movie—Karenn had dragged him to see it when she was a kid–, but he wasthe one who teared up when the Beast released Belle, thus doominghimself to life as a pariah and monster. (His mental dialogue during thatscene: “Of course he had to let her go! He loved her!”. His mental dialoguelater when the lynch mob arrived: “You bastards! Leave him alone! Hasn’t hesuffered enough?!”) Nevra still gets a reaction when Karenn starts humming theBeast’s solo– ‘If I Can’t Love Her’– from the musical.  

Ezarel

Chick-flicks?Ugh! Spare him the torture! There must be other types of brainlessentertainment you can subject him to.

Ezarel won’t be caught deadwatching a romantic-comedy. Not unless it’s a very quirky, nontraditional,indie movie that’s more bittersweet than sentimental, makes fun of its owncharacters, and isn’t exclusively told from the female POV. That way, he’ll sayhe’s watching a screwball comedy instead. (So it has a little romance in it. What movie doesn’t, these days?)    

What he enjoys:

A cast ofcompletely-flawed, borderline obnoxious characters, who rarely get what theydeserve (good or bad).

An underdog leadingman (or woman), who’s the only smart one in the movie and frequently a lonelyoutcast. (He will not tolerate anair-headed protagonist.)

Fast-paced trollingdialogue, non-stop sarcastic humor, and screwball jokes. Pranks are a bonus.  

Realisticrelationships (i.e. with all the ugly baggage, awkwardness, and confusion thathappen in real life).

The constant struggleto overcome distance, misunderstanding, and social obstacles. (i.e. the ideathat people are completely unreliable, and that romance never makes sense.)

Unrequited love andbittersweet endings.  

Breaking movietraditions and the fourth wall. If a movie is serious from start-to-finish, andasks him to suspend disbelief for 90+ minutes, then Ez practically fallsasleep.  

Cult classics. A-Listblockbusters are pretentious, and plain boring.Give him weird animations, weirder stories, and bizarre camera angles anyday. 

Favorite Romantic Comedies:

Annie Hall(1977): Ezarel adores Woody Allen, and this movie is seen as ‘The Romance’ inhis collection. He can watch this film over and again just to catch allthe references and in-jokes. He also turns to this movie for general lessons onhow to cope with relationships. And you all wonder why he’s so salty.

What If (2013):One of the few modern romances with a happy ending that still has Ezarellaughing out of his seat. He knows the friend-zone very well, and how it’seasier (and more dignified) to stay there rather than to try to climb out. He certainly does not hope that what happens to Wallacehappens to him one day. He’ll gladly live life without falling for a friend andgetting punched down the stairs.  

Amelie (2001):He always turns beet-red when someone catches him watching this classic.Because he only watches it for the pranks and the deadpan narration, he swears!All right, so he feels a bit sorry for the quirky outcasts Amelie and Nino too,and he sort of likes the convoluted, pinball-machine way they finally find eachother. It doesn’t mean he enjoys thatlast, sugary scene of them laughing together like idiots on a bike. Tch. You never saw him watch this movie.

Valkyon

He’s quite neutral on romanticcomedies. To him, it’s just another movie genre that doesn’t fall on his listof favorites. Why spend 90+ minutes on a handful of little arguments that can technicallybe resolved in just 15 minutes? He doesn’t get it.

So the only romantic elementthat he can enjoy is if it’s tangled into a greater conflict that heunderstands. Like war, penance, and exile. That’s when it really hits home for him. (This also means that Valkyon is actually the weakest of the three guys for stories about‘true love’, so long as they’re packaged as epic sagas.)  

What he enjoys:

True heroes/heroines,who weather the curve-balls life throws at them without complaining, and try to hold onto their honor despite trying times.

Turbulent, large-scaleconflicts, but where there is still a clear divide between what’s wrong andright on the individual scale. (i.e. war dramas)

Crossing cultures andborders, and adapting to difficult new circumstances.

‘Pure love’ that is more seen and implied than spoken and argued about. And which enduresboth time and distance, despite great forces tearing the couple apart.

Dramatic reunions.

Tragic endings.  

Sweeping landscape shots and vistas. (Really, it’s the best way to immerse the audience in the story.)  

Historical accuracy.The story may be fictional, but it shouldn’t completely abandon reality; otherwise it’s pure fantasy orpropaganda. In the end, the most powerful stories come from real life.

Favorite (romantic) movies:

‘Atonement’ (2007):His favorite romance of all time, hands down. It’s also the most tragic film hehas ever seen. Don’t bother taking him to see the next installment in ‘FiftyShades’; this movie has inoculated Valkyon against all cheery/sexy romanticfilms. Most other romances are just so… pettycompared to what happened between Cecilia and Robbie. Other screen-writers shouldstart putting in more themes of loss in their plots.

‘Zero Motivation’(2014): The only real ‘chick flick’that Valkyon actually likes, because it’s such a spot-on portrayal of the screwylife of military recruits (like the ones he commands). The first time he sawit, he smiled knowingly to himself throughout the whole movie. Because he haspersonally seen all the pranks, the sassing to superior officers, and thebarracks feuds that erupt from boredom, stress, a general refusal to getalong, and well, exactly zero motivation. It’s even funnier to see it up on thesilver screen.    

‘The Last Samurai’(2003): This movie used to be number one on Valkyon’s list… until someone broke it tohim that real samurai are a lot less romantic and used guns by the time theywere disbanded. That’s why he’s embarrassed to admit that he still loves thisfilm. In fact, the ‘armoring’ scene between Capt. Algren and the samurai’swidow he fell for, prior to the suicidal battle, had him squeezing his date’shand very hard in the dark of the movie theater (result: they yelped loudenough to disturb the whole row). Even now, Valkyon firmly believes that thescreenwriter meant for the captain toremain in Japan and find her again after the war.    

Edit: Whoops. Did you just say chick movie? As in, one? Looks like I went overboard again. >_> Nuts.