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murderslugs · 4 years ago

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Getting To Know Them || Slasher x Reader Bf/Gf Scenarios Pt 2

Jason Voorhees

When you woke, you were lying in a dim living room. The windows were boarded with thick, rotting oak planks and the doors were bolted shut. The only light left to illuminate the room was a small lamp on the old, rustic coffee table in front of you. Beneath you was a somewhat scratchy couch, clearly taken off of someone's front line with a paper labeled "free to take" on it, or from some dump. However, you were thankful that it at least wasn't the creaky wooden floor instead. You scratched at the rope around your wrists, loosened from being wriggled around and messed with.

You sat up and allowed your vision to re-adjust, and saw the same man in flannel and ski-mask in an arm-chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn't seem to notice your awakening, or he at least didn't acknowledge it. He was reading a book with a maroon cover, and you couldn't make out the small copper-shaded title. You studied his movement. He was calm and showed little emotion in his body language, simply reading in peace.

In a split second, you decided to break the peace and silence. "Who are you?" The man put down the book in his lap, but only looked up at you for a moment, silent. You could see him think, then make a few hand gestures. You came to the realization that it was ASL, but you never really learned the language, despite your interest in it. You saw him take a deep breath and get up, grabbing a pen and a notebook off a table to the side. He slid the items onto the coffee table before you and slowly unbound your wrists. You wrote your question out again, "Who are you?" and slid it around for him to see. He read it, and wrote quickly, in slightly messy handwriting, "Jason. any more questions?" and slid the items back.

From here, you two went on for hours, listing out questions on the notebook and answering them for each other. You filled out pages and pages, ranging from basic questions to things like "what was your childhood like?" Certain things like that, he would pause and then write that he didn't want to talk about it. Through the night or day (due to the lack of natural light, it was hard to tell,) this game went on.

Michael Myers

Though you tried your best and struggled and squirmed, the man who had taken you still had gotten you tied to a chair; where you sat with a belt tying your wrists to the wooden beams, thankfully with a cushion underneath your rear. You shut your eyes for a second and groaned, throwing your head back. You always thought of yourself as strong and independent, a fighter who didn't need help from anyone. Alas, this was one ass you couldn't kick, and you hated yourself for it.

Across the kitchen, the bright lights shined on the tiled floor, and a tea kettle whistled ceaselessly. The sound of running water stopped as the man who had taken you walked from the bathroom and into the kitchen. The man dried his hands on his pants and took the kettle off the burner, shutting the flames off. You observed him take two random mugs from the cabinets above, and place them on the white countertop. He carefully poured the tea into the two cups, and a light herbal smell filled the air. After a moment, you recognized the smell of hibiscus tea. This was a familiar smell, something your aunt made every morning when you spent the night at her house in the summers between school years.

The man walked over and brought the two cups with him. A low, slightly muffled, silky voice came from behind the mask as he slid a mug across the table to you. "Careful, it's scolding." The tall, built man walked across and unbuckled one of your arms from the chair for you to pick up the mug with. "Drink." He said, before taking a seat before you. This is when he slid the mask off, to reveal a face beneath that you never would have expected. Dark brown, shaggy, messy, wavy hair fell over his forehead, and he blew it out of his grey eyes. His face was scarred and his lips were chapped, but it somehow wasn't unappealing or revolting.

"What's your name? Who the fuck are you?" You asked, leaning as far as you could with your restraints still intact. The man pushed his hair back and sighed heavily, sipping the near boiling tea. "Michael. 24. Libra." He said in a monotone voice. You rolled your eyes. "This is an introduction to your victim, not The Dating Game." You told him harshly. "Well, is there something specific you wanna know? It's not like your giving me anything to go off of, sugar cube." 'Michael' replied with the same energy in return. "Fine. I'm (Y/N). What else is there to say?"

Carrie White

Like the pale girl suggested, Carrie if you remembered correctly, you came back to the public library next Sunday, around noon. You had finished the book you had most recently checked out, so you had to return it anyways. Walking down the pavement, you saw here in a light sundress, walking up the few steps and into the library. You ran to catch up and followed her, careful not to startle the girl. As soon as you got inside, you carried yourself to just behind her, and tapped on her shoulder.

The girl turned around, and a look of confusion appeared on her features. "(Y/N). We met here last week? I suggested you check out Narnia." You reminded her, an eager smile painted on your face. A spark formed in her eyes, and she returned your smile. "Oh! Yes, yes, I remember. I'm sorry, my mind is awfully clouded lately." You assured her that it was alright, and you two went along.

The two of you walked down the aisles of bookshelves, and she looked for something new to try out. Maybe she would check out a cook-book and try a new recipe, or read up on WW1. Although, you DID notice that she avoided the religious aisle. However, you didn't comment on this, out of respect. You two checked out a few books, and on the paved outdoor steps, you stopped her. "Would you like to go for coffee or tea? Even a pastry? There's a little shop down the street, I'll buy. I'd just like to talk a bit.

Carrie obliged happily, and the two of you took your books and walked down to the small cafe. It had a dim, rustic theme, and brought peace to anyone who entered it's walls. There was a faint vanilla sent in the air, welcoming you two. For about an hour, Carrie sat down with you and talked about your life, your week, basic things. It was nice to get to know her. She seemed kind, and gentle. Everything about her was graceful, from the way she sipped her latte to the way she tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. As you two finished up your chats, you grabbed your things and greeted each other farewell, agreeing to meet again next week.

Jennifer Check

The pair of you had become half-decent lab partners over the last few weeks, but she didn't seem to be doing well with the subject. As a result, you decided that you would volunteer to tutor her in the subject after school. So, there you were, on your way to her house after school to hang out and help her study up on the subject and with the homework. It was a cloudy day, and you could tell that a storm was brewing in those clouds above your head. Because of this, you decided to walk a bit faster to avoid being soaked.

As you arrived at Jennifer's house, you knocked gently on the door. When you received no answer, you hesitantly knocked harder. Very suddenly, a slightly older woman answered the door, assumingly Jennifer's mom. The woman looked you up and down, then quickly turned to yell over her shoulder, "Jenny! Your new friend is here!" She then quickly invited you in and brought you a small tray of white-chocolate macadamia nut cookies, offering you to take one or two ((If you have an allergy to nuts, then M&M cookies.)) "I made these for you two while you were studying. There's also sodas in the fridge in case you need a drink." Jennifer's mom said joyfully, before scooping the strap of a purse onto her shoulder. "I'll be off now, I have a job interview to get to. Jen's room is upstairs, first door on the right. Have fun you two!" She informed you before heading out the door.

You walked up the stairs until you found an oak door, and knocked before coming in. "Uh, hi, it's (Y/N), I'm here to help you study..?" You said as you slowly walked in and shut the door behind you. Jennifer was standing, looking in the mirror and smearing concealer under her eyes. She sighed and looked over to you. "Sit on the bed. You know, I was gonna gut you like a fish and drink your blood like a Slurpee, but my mom seems to like you, and I don't think you're too bad. Shame, would have been a great opportunity." She said nonchalantly. As she turned to you, you saw that her face was pale and broken out in acne.

Your heart skipped a beat and the color drained from your face. "I'm sorry, w-what...?" You tried to gulp down the fear in your words. "I'm a succubus, idiot. Don't think that I didn't notice you staring at the blood on my shoes the first day we met. I feed on people's bodies and sexual energy so I can feel good and look good. But I've decided you're worth keeping around, so I'll save that for the next chump. So, shall we get to know each other?" She said calmly as she sat down beside you on the bed.

Billy Loomis

You were home alone yet again, but this time it was mid day. You were watching horror movies out of boredom on your couch, when you got a call. You hesitantly answered, to hear a familiar voice on the other side of the phone. "I'm here, come let me in." You carried the phone with you. You figured one of your friends had stopped by to say hi, and their voice just sounded messed up due to shitty reception. You went to your front door, and looked through the peephole to see someone in a shitty costume, probably from Walmart, as it was October, and stores were starting to sell Halloween costumes and decorations. You hung up the phone and stuck it in your pocket, opening the door slightly with the chain lock still intact.

"Cut it out, prankster. That's not a very creepy costume. Ooo! I'm so scared!! Listen, I've seen the original Japanese film The Ring a million times, I'm not too scared of much." You heard the person sigh and push the door forward aggressively, breaking the lock. You jumped back in shock. "Hey! You're paying for that, asshole!" You yelled only for a quick response. "No, I don't think I will, beautiful. The man said, taking off his mask. To your shock, it was someone that you went to school with, Billy Loomis. You remember him graduating just the year before you, and were a bit shocked at his sudden appearance. You two had talked a bit, and you could consider yourselves acquaintances, but never really close friends.

Billy took a step forward, and in turn, you took one back. He put his hands up, showing he had no weapons in his hands. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt, that's not what I came to do. I just want to...get to know you. Look, you can pat me down, if you really feel the need. I don't have any weapons on me." You lowered your defenses a bit, but still kept them up. "Why would you want to know me so bad?" You asked hesitantly. "Well, I looked through your window and realized I'd found you again. And I wanted to get to know the pretty (girl/boy/person) I used to look at in the hallways every day." He said in a smooth tone. And that's where your night started.

Thomas Hewitt

It was a lovely Texas summer day. A warm breeze carried through the semi-tall grass in the fields, and the smell of fresh bread filled the small wooden house. On this fine afternoon, you happened to be listening to some old music, from the 50s-60s, and baking. When you least expected it, you heard a loud knock on the door. You figured it might have been one of your new neighbors looking to get to know you, or ask to borrow something. You strolled to the door and opened it, to see a rather large man in a butcher's apron, curly dark hair, and a rather scarred face on the other side. Though he had somewhat of a threatening aura, you knew that there was more behind his appearance.

You saw him open his mouth, but then stop and think for a moment. He hesitantly put his hands up and made a few broken and hand signals. You realized quickly that it was sign language, as you had an uncle growing up that happened to be deaf, so you learned it so that you two could talk. "I'm not deaf, I just don't like to speak." You watched him sign apprehensively, and responded allowed. "That's okay, hun. What can I do for you?" You asked, and he thought for a moment. "Do you have some salt I can use? Papa shot a..." He stopped for a moment, then looked back up to meet your eyes. "Papa shot a deer, and we ran out of salt to dry out the hide and season the meat." He asked, and you replied. "Of course! Come right in, I keep a few bags in the cupboard, I have a half-full one you can take home." You told him as you allowed him to come in and shut the door behind him.

Your bread sat warm in the window-sill, cooling down. As you handed him the salt, he pointed over to it. "Oh, do you want a piece?" He nodded aggressively, and you smiled. You grabbed the metal baking sheet and put it on the counter, slicing a few pieces. "Here, you can have more than one. I make it all the time, and it's just me here to eat it anyways." You told him. "Would you like to sit down and chat for a moment? I can make you tea or coffee too if you like? You can tell me about yourself. That is, if you don't have to be home right quick." The man nodded again, and set the salt down on the counter. "My name's Thomas. I'd like some...Peppermint tea, if you have it." The man signed to you, his guard down as he clearly felt welcomed in the household. "Okay, Thomas, right on it." You smiled warmly and handed him a thick slice of warm bread with butter and mulberry jam smeared over the top. "Take a seat, dear."

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~Author's Note~

Hi guys, I'm so sorry it took so long to get this second part out :( I've just been really stressed and not in a great mental place, plus the factor of writer's block and being scared to burn myself out. But thank you for those who have stayed through the hiatus to continue reading!! Please comment below if you have any character or scenario requests. Goodbye for now, loves!

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hyuckssunchip · 4 years ago

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Blooming Pt. 1

Pairings: Jisung x Reader, ft. nct dream, lucas (honorary member of dream)

Words: 7.5K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, fluff

Synopsis:

Love isn’t as easy as it seems, Park Jisung is an advocate of that. A blooming relationship that has prematurely ceased can be re-sparked years later, or can it? Will Jisung be able to overcome his fears in order to succeed in what he deems love?

Part 1 | Part 2

Freshman Yr.

Hey Jisung,

I know that this is kinda random and I only have the guts to do this now because I probably won’t see you again but here goes. I think you are a really sweet and cool guy and I wish I had gotten to know you better, probably because I had a big crush on you... I just thought I would send this to you because I know it’s nice to know and it’s probably a little bit of a confidence booster. (I also kinda wanted to get this off my chest). Sorry for the essay and you don’t have to respond to this if it’s awkward … I hope you stay safe especially with what’s going on right now

You held your breath, panicking at the loading sign on your phone. Welp, it was too late now.

You were pacing back and forth in your living room, nail very much in your mouth as you bit them anxiously.

“I just sent it.” You breathed out, “Oh my god, I just sent it.” At this point you were nearly in tears you were so nervous.

“That’s good. It’s like one a.m. though, so don’t be too worried if he doesn’t answer right away.” You nodded into the receiver, and although your best friend couldn’t see you, she still understood your silence.

You had called your best friend earlier to ask for her advice about the guy you had told her about months ago. It was the last quarter of school for this year and you finally had the courage to confess to him.

Your best friend Megan was a little bit more experienced than you and she laughed when you had told her you wrote drafts, and you promptly sent it to her.

“He’s not writing back.” You told her, staring intently at the screen, refreshing it every few seconds as if that would make him answer.

“Well of course not, you literally sent it ten seconds ago. Besides I told you, it’s late, he might just reply in the morning.” She sighed at your panicked state.

“Oh my god! He read it.” You bit your lip, staring at the numbers below your text.

“Oh.” She giggled, “Cute, he has read receipts on like you.”

You barely had time to comprehend what she had said when you gasped out, “Oh my god. He’s typing, he’s typing! There’s bubbles.”

She laughed, “Wow, that was fast.”

You weren’t exactly paying attention to her, focused very much on the bubbles that were still there. Then suddenly they stopped.

“They stopped.” You felt the need to relay everything to her.

“That’s fine, he’s probably just reading over it.” You nodded, trying to convince yourself. But you couldn’t because nothing ever came. It was almost 25 minutes later that you heard the familiar ding of your phone.

Hey Y/N! thanks for letting me know, it really is not easy but rip coronavirus really is kinda messing with everything. i think you’re a really nice person and if circumstances would have allowed, i would have wanted to get to know you more too. everything is kinda hectic rn and i wish you the besttt and stay safe too!!

Immediately you called Megan again. “It doesn’t look good…Listen to what he said.” You read the text, heart dropping with every word you read.

“What are you talking about? That’s a good thing. Y/N he said he wants to get to know you better too. That’s sweet. I think he’s just keeping it open though, cause there’s not much you guys can do anyways.”

“Yeah.” You tried to not let out how dejected you were, but it was clear to her.

“Hey don’t worry about it. If he doesn’t like you then he’s not worth worrying over.”

“Right.” You pouted despite what she said making sense. “Look I’ll call you later, I’ve got to go now.”

“Okay, Y/N, don’t stress too much about it, okay?”

You hummed back, mumbling out your goodbyes.

The moment you hung up, you threw your phone on the bed, falling next to it. You sighed, trying not to overthink everything.

That’s why you confessed now, so that if you were so badly rejected, you wouldn’t have to see him again. Right?

You groaned, closing your eyes, hoping that sleep would make you feel better. Or perhaps you would wake up and find that this was all a dream.

You woke up and of course with habit, the first thing you did was look over at your phone. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, grinning at the screen.

You weren’t thrilled that it was in reality a dream, but on the other hand things had become very real very fast.

NOTIFICATION

Park Jisung 5:18 a.m.

oh, are you still going back to school next year?

You smiled at the text, heart immediately choosing to beat faster than you would’ve liked. With a glance at the clock you realized it was 8:07 a.m. and you couldn’t stop yourself from replying the moment you saw it.

yeah, i’m planning on living off campus tho… are you gonna live off campus too?

You panicked, staring at the screen, knowing damn well that he wasn’t about to reply at 8 in the morning. You had to restrain yourself from calling your best friend that very moment, you were in a happy mood and waking her up would not keep that.

The entire day you were buzzing, constantly checking your phone for new notifications. For the first time you understood what phantom texts felt like. Every couple of minutes you were sure that you felt a text, but alas it was your imagination.

It wasn’t until 4 p.m. when a real text came through, ringing loud and clear. You had turned your ringer on and off, making sure that it was working just in case.

yup! I’ll be living by the shopping complex in downtown. how about you?

Restraint was not easy for you, and you replied after a few moments passed. Megan had constantly told you to let at least a few minutes pass, but you couldn’t help it. Besides, read receipts were not in your favor.

Conversation seemed to come really easy to you, and after an hour of texting non stop he said he had one more final to take.

You understood and immediately felt bad, realizing that you had taken up precious study time for him. You wished him good luck and spent the rest of the night relaying every detail to Megan over the phone.

Little did you know that that conversation would be the last for a long time.

3 months later

It was time for a break. And what better way was there than a small kickback with your best friends after midterms?

“I brought the good stuff.” You were startled, laying on the daybed of your other friend, Camille’s room. It was the perfect spot for a kickback. A couple hundred feet from the main house, and completely stocked with all that you needed.

You sat up glancing at the armfuls of alcohol Megan had snagged, don’t ask how she got it.

You giggled at the thought, watching as Camille helped unload. “Let the games begin.”

“Truth or Dare Y/N?” You groaned, turning away from the both of them.

“You know I hate this game.”

Megan didn’t let up. “Camille has a pond.”

That was enough information for you. You took a glance out the window, noting that it was freezing outside. You were not taking a chance on her intentions. “Truth.”

“Boring.” She sang, but nevertheless had a question set. “Have you talked to that boy since the last time you called me about him?”

You grumbled to yourself, taking a shot and grimacing. “No.”

“Why not?” Camille asked, reaching for the bottle still in your hand.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know, I’m too much of a coward to text him now. But he could text me first too you know. Especially cause I took the first jump. It’s probably because he doesn’t like me.”

You sighed, staring at the bottle again, tempted to take another shot.

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” You missed the look Megan shot Camille, already coming up with a new idea.

In the end you caved, choosing that perhaps another shot could bring you happiness. But it just burned your throat.

“Megan truth or dare?”

“Dare, duh.” You watched the proud look on her face.

“I dare you to… snapchat that dude that sent dick pics to fuck off.” Camille said, watching Megan’s face contort into delight.

“Hell yeah! It would be my pleasure.” She giggled, and you noticed that she was feeling the alcohol as well.

You felt the need to roll your eyes again.

“Done. And blocked.” She tossed her phone in the middle of the group with satisfaction.

“I don’t know why you just didn’t block him right after he sent them.” You commented, chewing on a gummy worm.

She just shrugged, “I don’t know, it was kind of fun I guess. Anyways. Camille, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you really only see Carson as a friend?” Camille sputtered at the question, spitting out a bit of juice.

“No, I see him as a brother. That’s disgusting, besides he’s dating Bailee.” She shook her head, working to clean up the mess.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t like him.” Megan muttered, before dropping it and turning back to you.

“Y/N truth or dare?”

“Truth.” You mumbled out, not really paying attention.

“Come on, do at least one dare. It’s not fun if you only answer truth.” She whined, pushing another cup of jungle juice towards you.

You hesitantly sniffed the cup before taking a sip. A moment of silence passed as they waited for you. You let out a deep sigh, “Fine, dare. What do you want?”

“I dare you to text him.”

You froze, you knew that’s what she was going to say, but you were so out of it that you let it slide.

“You know I can’t do that.” You answered, wide eyed.

“It’s a dare.” Megan nodded at the window, insinuating the punishment.

“No, I really can’t. I’ll give you my phone though, but I can’t do it.” You dug the phone out of your backpack and tossed it next to hers, which she grabbed immediately typing in your password that she had memorized.

“Deal. I’ll just start it, then you can keep the conversation going.” You waved her off, choosing to drown yourself in as much alcohol as you could in hopes of forgetting that this happened tomorrow morning.

“Done. I just sent hey, with like three y’s and a smiley face. Not the emoji though.” Your mouth dropped at her.

“That’s so not me though. You know I use emojis, and I don’t do the all, heyyyy thing. He’s gonna know.” She just shrugged, sliding the phone back to you.

You sighed, staring at the empty screen, the other two returning to the game.

But it was three minutes later when your phone dinged, a text from Jisung lighting up your screen.

“Is that him?” Camille asked, peeking over at the screen.

“Yeah. I don’t wanna read it though, you do it.” You pushed it away, pulling your knees into your chest.

“I got you.” Megan paused. “See. Guys like the hey thing. He did it back, I don’t know what you were talking about, he’s totally into you.”

You grinned, crawling forward to see for yourself. The phone dinged again seconds later.

“Ooh, that’s hot. I like it when a guy texts in multiple bubbles, it shows they just text you what they think. They’re not planning it out or anything.” Megan commented, already typing in a response for you.

You watched over her shoulder, glancing at Camille who was doing the same.

“Is this good?” You just nodded back, sitting back on your heels to take a break.

“Oh, wow. That was fast. He texted back.” Although she sounded impressed, she frowned at the text.

“What? What is it?” You asked, panicking at her expression.

“Nothing. He’s just… dry. Was he always a dry texter?” She asked, handing the phone back to you.

“No? I don’t know, I didn’t think he was dry, we texted for like an hour straight that one time.” You mumbled, looking at the phone disappointed.

“Well he seems pretty dry to me. Maybe you should text him, maybe you were right, my texting was too different from yours.” You bit your lip and nodded, trying to come up with a response to him.

You didn’t know if it was because you were drunk, or that he could tell you were drunk, but while the conversation did get slightly better, he seemed dry to you as well. It was after twenty minutes of texting that you couldn’t keep the conversation any longer. You became frustrated at the dwindling conversation.

You had chosen to contact him again after three months of ghosting each other, and now he was making it difficult to carry a conversation. Maybe he really doesn’t like you. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. Fine, you thought, you weren’t reaching out anymore. You didn’t want to be seen as pathetic, you could catch a hint. He just didn’t like you and was being nice. If he did actually like you, he could reach out to you.

This didn’t stop you from thinking about him for the month following the drunken incident.

2 years later Junior Yr.

“I swear if you’re late for this one too, I’m not setting you up on anymore blind dates!” You winced at the sound of your roommate cursing at you.

“I’m going!” You yelled back, slipping out the front door before she had a chance to attack you again.

You managed to close door without hearing what ever else she had in store for you.

Your keys jangled as you quickly tried to lock the bright red door, giving it one last tug of reassurance when you turned on your heel to find your car.

“Oof!” A body collided with yours, you were partially, well mostly at fault.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I should’ve paid more attention. It’s just, I was in a bit of a rush…” You trailed off, finally getting a good look at the other person’s face. “Jisung?”

He simply stared back with a blank look on his face, mouth hung slightly open. “Y/N?”

You hated how your heart quickened at the sound of your name from his lips.

“I-I… wow…” You stuttered out, not quite able to act as natural as you had hoped. “Do you live here?”

“Uh… yeah, I live next door.” He pointed to your left, and when you followed his finger sure enough it was right next to your apartment. You missed the way that he looked you up and down, gulping at the sight of you in years.

“Oh. Wow, what a coincidence, I guess.” You laughed out nervously, hands playing with your lanyard.

“Yeah.” He nodded back, not really making eye contact. Not that you were trying either.

“Well…”

“Yeah.”

There was an awkward silence between you two, and you cleared your throat to break some tension.

“I was actually on my way out, so… I’ve got to get going. But I’ll see you around.” You put on a fake smile that didn’t really reach your eyes, and shot him a wave before rushing off to your car. Once under the safety of your car, you sighed and tried to discreetly glance at the boy you hadn’t seen or thought of in years.

You shook your head, starting the ignition. It’s time to forget him, you told yourself, besides I’ve got a date waiting for me right now.

It wasn’t until Jisung was positive you could no longer see him, having driven off minutes ago, that he threw his head back and let out the deep breath he didn’t know he was holding. The blush he had been so desperately holding out finally came over his face, as he felt the heat burn his ears.

He had just begun to forget about you, from time to time, pausing over your conversation stream. Although it was torture, every once in a while he would read back all the texts, hating the way that they abruptly stopped. On occasion, mostly when he was drunk, but there were times when he was sober, he would even type out a text but fail to send it.

Jisung was never the outgoing type, he envied those who were. Those that could just strike up a conversation and carry on like it was second nature. But it was hard for Jisung. It took work and energy, and sometimes he didn’t have that. It was stressful and scary to Jisung.

It was a godsend when you reached out to him years ago, claiming so boldly your feelings for him. He wasn’t going to admit it, but then he had asked for his friends help in responding. It was Mark’s wishy-washy personality that had unbeknowingly sent your mind in circles that night.

It was Haechan’s straight-forward nature that had forced him to text you at 5 a.m. the next morning. He was tired of hearing about Jisung’s concerns as to why you didn’t reply earlier, complaining that if he was that worried just text her.

So he did.

And it worked.

It worked so well. That hour he had spent texting you had butterflies dancing in his belly. He had never felt happier or more connected than at that moment. It wasn’t until his alarm rang, notifying him that he had five minutes until his last final did he stop smiling.

He was more than disappointed when nothing came out of the conversation. Of course he knew that it wasn’t just your fault, after all he had a phone, he could text you too.

And he tried, he really did. Multiple times. But every text he drafted was soon deleted and so the conversation ran dry. That was until three months later, May 16th.

But you always seemed to catch him at a bad time. It was Saturday, but his professor had given him an extension on his paper and it was due at midnight.

Your first text came at 10:58 p.m.

It took all he had not to answer the text, and eventually he did cave. But as much as he wanted to focus on you he couldn’t, after all he had begged his professor to extend his deadline, he had to finish this.

Maybe that’s why this time you didn’t seem so responsive. Maybe that’s why this time it only took twenty minutes for the conversation to end.

Maybe that’s why, after it took him forty-five minutes to respond to your last text, you left him on read.

“What’s with the long face dude?” His best friend, and housemate asked, slapping his back passive-aggressively.

“Nothing. And I don’t have a long face.” He pushed back, shoving him softly out of the way.

“Who was that? At the front door?” Jaemin asked, shoving a cookie into his mouth.

“No one, just someone I knew.” Jisung muttered back, reaching out to steal one from the jar.

“Just someone I knew.” Chenle mocked back, leaning against the wall of the kitchen. “Right. We all could see the look on your face, that’s not just someone you knew.”

Jisung shrugged. “She was a girl I was texting.” He tried to pull it off nonchalantly, but it was evident to his housemates that it wasn’t nothing.

“Shit. Was that that girl you were talking to freshman year? The one you were head over heels for?” Jeno asked, grabbing a seat on a barstool, his laptop tightly in his grip. It was obvious he was working on something.

“Y/N?”Jaemin asked around the crumbs that filled his mouth.

“Ew. Gross. Have some manners dude.” Renjun said shoving Jaemin off the counter where he was perched, “And how many times do I have to tell you not to sit on the counter, that’s not sanitary. We have chairs for a reason.”

Jaemin made a face, but still moved to take a seat next to Jeno.

“Yeah.” Jisung frowned at the rest of the guys. “Did I make it that obvious?”

Renjun laughed, pulling a plate out of the cabinet. “You just talked about her everyday for a month. But no, not that obvious.”

“You should talk to her again, does she live close by?” Jeno asked, typing away at his computer.

“Yeah, she’s… uh… she’s our neighbor.” He rushed the last bit out, knowing that they would take advantage of the situation.

“Ooh! Our Jisung’s little girlfriend lives next door guys!” Chenle cackled out, “Guys, this is fate. And it’s our job to help out.”

Jisung scowled at him, knowing that Chenle meant what he said, “No. Guys leave her alone. Don’t make things weird. We’re going to be neighbors for the rest of the year, I don’t want to have to avoid her.”

“Avoid who?”

“Haechan, how many times did I tell you to give me that key back?” Renjun asked, narrowing his eyes at the boy.

“Too many.” Haechan shrugged, letting Mark close the door behind him. “You can have this one back though, I’ve got two more copies at my apartment.”

Renjun threw his hands in the air, “I give up.” He picked up his plate of leftovers, opting to sit at the bar next to Jaemin.

“Who are we avoiding though?” Mark asked, settling against the wall next to Chenle.

“Y/N.” Chenle said, giving Mark a knowing grin.

“Y/N? Wait isn’t that...?” Mark furrowed his eyebrows, sporting his signature confused face.

“Uh-huh.”

“Why are we avoiding her?” He asked, turning to Jisung, who had been awfully quiet.

“We’re not.” Jeno spoke up, finally shutting his laptop. “We just found out she’s our neighbor and Jisung doesn’t want us to do anything about it, cause he doesn’t want to avoid her.”

Haechan grinned, pulling out a glass and filling it up with water from the fridge. “So you still like her?”

“No.” There was an empty silence. “Yes.”

Jisung sighed at the commotion his confession caused.

“Well, don’t you think it’s our duty, as your friend, to help you out? After all, I feel like I am very invested in this budding relationship. I did help send the text that set things in motion.” Haechan boasted animatedly, accidently spilling some of his water, which he wiped up with this sock.

“No. I don’t think that it’s your duty. And please stay out of it?” He all but begged the rest of the boys. Much to his dismay, none of them looked like they were swayed.

Jaemin clapped his hands together standing up, “Okay, how about some neighborly cookies? Everyone likes cookies.”

Jeno rolled his eyes with a smile, but stood up anyways. “Sure I’m down, but no more of those peanut butter ones, those are shitty. Can’t we just do chocolate chip?”

Jaemin frowned, digging through the pantry cabinet. “You’re lucky we’re out of those. Chocolate chip it is.”

Haechan strolled towards Jisung, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, “How about we get drafting then?” He snorted, “I think a nice love letter should do it.”

Jisung shoved him away with more force than necessary, “Get off me. And no. Stop it with the love letter thing, I was drunk and sad okay?”

Mark butted in before the two of them would really start fighting, “Actually I don’t think that’s a bad idea. I think she’d like that, like, slip it in with the cookies or something. Just say you’d like to see her again, and hang out.”

Renjun stood up, placing his dishes in the sink, “Dude this is why Jisung sent mixed signals in the first place, ‘i’d like to see you again’, ‘let’s hang out’. Can you get any more confusing than that?”

Mark frowned and cocked his head, opening his mouth to retort, but Haechan beat him to it. “Then what would you say Renjun? ‘Oh how beautiful your eyes compare to a midsummer’s eve. May I court you this evening?’”

Renjun glared at him. “You’re not funny. And no. I was going to say, just tell her it was a missed opportunity. That you’d like to take her out on a date now that you can.”

Jisung shook his head violently at the sound of that. “How am I supposed to do that? That’s way too straight forward, what if she says no?”

“Dude, she likes you. Remember? She sent you that text. And if her feelings aren’t there anymore then… well… I don’t know. But the chances are low.” Jeno tried to reassure him, not doing a very good job of it.

Jisung sucked a breath in, ultimately letting out a hissing noise.

“Trust me on this one Jisung. I make a mean cookie, we’ll just head over there later today and rekindle whatever you two have.” Jaemin cooed at the boy with a big smile.

“Right. Like I can trust all of you.” He muttered to himself, choosing to escape to the confines of his room.

“So… how was it?” Your roommate asked expectantly, a far change from the way she was speaking to you earlier.

You shrugged, “I dunno, he was nice I guess.” You shook your head. “I don’t know why you guys are all pushy on this stuff. Like I get it, but it’s weird trying to date someone that I’ve just met you know?”

Your roommate Alex just shook her head, waving you off. “Whatever, so did you like him or not? Is there gonna be a second date?”

You laughed at her, she was way too invested in your non-existent love life. “I don’t know, I think so. He was sweet and stuff, but like I said it’s weird.”

“Well, that’s the furthest you’ve gotten so far.” You sent her a glare. “I’m just saying. You always either end up leaving the date, or never seeing them again.”

“Shut up, I don’t-”

You were cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. Alex and you exchanged glances, you weren’t expecting anybody.

She stood up, grabbing the bat next to the door, that your mother insisted you bring, ‘just in case’.

You huffed, moving past her, “You know, you could just look through the peephole.” You leaned forward squinting into the door, only to find a group of boys that seemed your age.

“Who is it?”

You pulled back, tilting your head, “I don’t know, just a group of guys.”

You unlocked the door, peeking out through the crack slightly, and you were greeted very enthusiastically by the boy in front.

“Hi!” He grinned, showing off a perfect set of pearly whites. He was waving very aggressively with his free hand, the other seemed to be holding a plate of cookies. “I’m Jaemin! We’re neighbors.”

After his quick introduction he shoved the plate towards you, never letting the smile leave his face.

“Uh… hi?” You weren’t quite sure what to say.

Luckily Alex did, “Hi, I’m Alex and this is Y/N. That’s so sweet of you.” She smiled back, taking the plate from you. “Do you guys want to come in? We can crack them open right now.”

You stepped back, watching the trail of six- no seven guys just stroll into your apartment.

“What the hell?” You muttered to yourself, closing the door softly behind the last boy.

“Hi Y/N.”

You looked up to see Jisung again, and you took a slight step back, startled at the sight.

“Jisung. Oh.” You barely let out.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to overstep or anything. The guys just wanted to meet you… all. They wanted to meet all of you… cause you’re our neighbors, and all…”

You blushed realizing that he had heard you comment, completely ignoring the way that Jisung was stumbling all over his words.

Haechan took no time in introducing himself, and taking the honor of introducing everyone else as well.

“I’m Haechan, this is Mark, Jeno, Chenle, and Renjun. You already know Jaemin, and I’m aware that you already know Jisung.” He grinned proudly after gesturing to each of the respective boys.

“Jisung?” Alex asked, eyebrows raised. You hadn’t told her about him. For one, it never came up, and secondly, it’s not like it was anything important now. That was years ago, you didn’t feel the need to inform her of every detail of your life, like him.

Haechan cocked his head, “Yeah. You didn’t know they knew each other?”

You furrowed your brows at him. “And how do you know that?”

Jisung shyly raised his hand next to you, embarrassed that he was outed for spilling the details to his friends. “Sorry, that would be my fault.”

You turned slightly, mouth dropping at his face, “Oh. I didn’t mean it like that. I..I- That came out wrong. I’m not mad or anything, I was just shocked.”

You bit your lip feeling guilty about the way he responded.

“Anyways.” Jaemin interrupted the awkward silence. “We just wanted to say hi and stop by. Maybe we can all hang out and stuff and be neighborly.”

He grinned, looking around at the group.

“Right.” You nodded slowly, “Thanks for the cookies, and it was nice meeting you all.” There was a forced smile on your face, but none of the boys seemed to notice or care.

Eventually the boys filtered out one by one, and you closed the door, sighing against it.

“They were nice.” Alex said, taking a bite in a cookie. “Oooh, and these are hella good.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, moving to sit on the couch.

“Why do you look like that? You don’t like them?” She asked, grabbing a glass for milk. “You and Jisung already know each other though. By the way, how do you know him?”

You rubbed your hand over his face. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, I have the rest of the day.” She sang back, taking a seat on the cushion next to you.

And so, now that Jisung was back in your life, you were left no choice to fill her in.

“Damn! That’s awkward as hell.” Her eyes were widened to the max.

“Yeah, I know. But I didn’t want them to feel super weird, cause you know, neighbors right? I just can’t believe my luck though.” You sighed leaning back, slouching down.

“Yeah, but do you like him though?” She asked, to which you whipped your head towards her.

“What?”

“Do you like him? I mean this could be really good for you. Actually it’s a win-win for everyone here. I can stop forcing you on blind dates and you can date the boy you’ve been pining after for years.” She shrugged like it was obvious.

“Okay, I have not been pining after him for years, and we’re not going to date just because I liked him two years ago. I mean, didn’t you get it from what I told you? He doesn’t like me.” You tried to shut her down.

“What are you talking about? Did you see him today? He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.” You frowned at her observation. You didn’t remember it the way she did, every time you looked at him, which wasn’t that often, he was desperately trying to avoid eye contact.

“No he wasn’t.” You nevertheless blushed at the idea.

“Ooh, you’re blushing! Someone has a cru-ush!” She raised her voice, and you slapper her.

“Shut up, they’re right next door remember? They’re our neighbors.” She simply winked at you.

“And no I don’t.” You added as an afterthought.

The small restaurant was bustling with energy, something the boys loved.

“Dude, why haven’t we been here before?” Mark asked, eyes wide with excitement, smacking Haechan’s shoulder unnecessarily hard.

Haechan tried to move away from him, but to no avail.

“I told you, Jeno always said this place was pricey.” He muttered back, giving in when he realised Mark’s habit wasn’t disappearing anytime soon.

“We shouldn’t have trusted Jeno’s cheap ass.” Renjun snorted, “The prices here look decent.”

“Hey!” Jeno tried to defend himself. “I’m a college student, everything is expensive.”

Jaemin threw an arm over Jeno’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Let’s just grab a booth.”

As they trudged down the busy pathway, Jeno spotted a familiar face.

“Hey isn’t that Y/N?” Jeno asked, elbowing Jisung in the side. But Jisung was already aware of your presence, he had been the moment they stepped into the restaurant.

“Don’t point.” Renjun slapped the boy’s hand down.

“I wasn’t-”

“Shut up.”

“Wait… who’s that with her?” Jaemin asked the obvious, slurring his words at the end, as if just understanding the situation.

It seemed as if you were on a date, and Jisung’s heart dropped. It felt like his entire world came crashing down, like any and all hope he had in you went out the window.

Of course you would have a boyfriend, it’s been two years since you last talked, and it’s not like you were even an item. You texted for an hour.

Jisung closed his eyes for a second, but the picture was still searing in his brain. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he told you that he liked you.

“I guess we didn’t think about that. That she could have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I mean it has been two years.” Mark nodded, agreeing with Jaemin.

“Guys, not helping.” Renjun said between gritted teeth.

Jisung bit his lip, silently running over the image of you.

Is that your boyfriend? How long had you been dating? Was it after he ran into you? If he asked you out then, would that be him?

He had so many questions he wanted answered, but he would never get them.

Chenle pulled his arm roughly, trying to drag him into the booth. “Jisung you’re staring. Try not to make it so obvious.” He teased.

Jisung quickly averted his eyes, choosing to sit where he could watch you from his seat. His stomach felt queasy, maybe that was a bad idea. Suddenly he lost his appetite at the sight of you smiling so widely at something funny your date had said.

Mark glanced up from his menu, staring at Jisung who was now downing his water. He elbowed Haechan who was concentrating on the menu.

“Dude, say something.” He hissed at him, trying to get Haechan to lift the mood. But for some reason, today of all days, he wasn’t having it.

Haechan just shrugged, shaking his head, “What do you want me to do?” Then he went back to his menu.

Mark bit his lip nervously, feeling uncomfortable at the sight of Jisung so anxious. He shot a look at Renjun who understood and at least tried to spark up conversation.

“So Jeno, who’d you come here with again?” He asked, an attempt at diverting attention from the elephant in the room.

“Uhh… some girl…” Jeno mumbled back, blushing furiously.

“Jeno’s blushing!” Chenle shouted out, his loud voice carrying across the restaurant.

This had Jisung cracking a smile.

“Dude, not so loud.” Jeno groaned out, sinking into his seat. He turned to glare at Renjun, “Did you have to bring that up?”

Renjun shrugged, but sent a small apologetic smile. ‘Sorry’ he mouthed at the embarrassed boy.

You had Chenle to thank for alerting you of the group’s presence. You pulled away from your conversation with Lucas and craned your head to get a glimpse of your neighbors.

“Do you know them?” Lucas asked, following your gaze.

“Oh, yeah, they’re my neighbors.” You said back, tearing your eyes from their booth.

“Yikes, they’re kind of loud.” He chuckled, “That must be rough on you.”

You gave him a smile, accompanied by your own giggle. “Lucas, in case you didn’t notice, you’re loud.”

He let out a fake gasp, holding his hand against his chest, “Me?”

You laughed, “Lucas, on our first date you thought we had so many complaints about the ‘loud dude in the booth’ that they asked us to leave.”

He frowned, “It’s not my fault my voice carries. And I have a very pleasant laugh, they should’ve been happy to hear it.” He pouted, “But we got ice cream to make up for it.”

You bit your lip, holding back your grin at the memory. “Yeah and it was freezing out.” You paused watching his expression, “But it’s never too cold for ice cream, besides, I wouldn’t have gotten your jacket out of it. And by the way, I’m keeping it. It’s soft.”

He smiled widely, immediately agreeing with you. “I’m just gonna use that excuse to see you again.”

You returned his sentiment, it wouldn’t be all that bad to meet Lucas again. You seemed to enjoy yourself every time you met.

“Oh. Jisung, hey.” You let out surprised.

“Hi.” He smiled at you shyly, staring back at you.

“Hi.” You blushed at the awkward tension between the two of you.

You turned and locked the door quietly before facing your neighbor again. “I was just heading out.”

“Right.” He mumbled, retreating back towards his apartment.

“I was going to the bookstore to pick up some things…” You trailed off, watching his expression, “If you’d like to come…?”

You immediately regretted your offer, ducking your head to hide your embarrassment. “You don’t have to, that was-”

“Sure.”

You froze, quickly snapping your head to meet his gaze.

“I uhh… have some things to take care of too.” He stumbled over his words to accept your offer.

“Oh, okay.” You smiled shyly at your feet, a strange feeling in your stomach turning.

You nodded in the direction of campus, trudging forward slowly at first to let him catch up. Soon enough the two of you were keeping pace.

A few minutes passed before Jisung cleared his throat, “So what are you getting from the bookstore?”

You nodded to yourself, “I have a textbook I ordered. It’s ridiculous isn’t it? How insanely overpriced it is, and it’s not like it’s even possible to pass the class without it. I mean I’m paying enough for college, now I have to pay on top of that.” You took a breath and chuckled nervously, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to rant on you.”

Jisung grinned at the way you were so worked up, “No not at all. I totally agree. It’s a rip off, I mean why not just make it part of tuition, we’re paying enough as it is.”

You nodded, “Right? It’s not right to make it required, like I could totally pirate it online, but if the professors make our homework using the online site to turn it in, that’s not even an option.”

You sighed exasperated, and missed the look on Jisung’s face. He seemed to enjoy the way you raved on about something as simple as a textbook.

You paused at the sound of his laughter from beside you, and you turned to look at him with a smile, enjoying the sound.

It was a fifteen minute walk to campus, and another five to the bookstore. And before you knew it the building was looming over your heads.

Jisung jogged a few paces before you, reaching for the door. You paused, watching as he stood aside, holding the door for you.

You blushed, perhaps, as they say, chivalry isn’t dead. “Thank you.”

You reached your hand up, pressing your cold fingers against your burning cheeks, an attempt to chase away the color.

“So which class is it for?” He asked, looking around, and thankfully not noticing your heated face.

“Economics.” You replied, lifting your head in search of your department.

The two of you wandered around for a few more moments, not searching particularly hard for the book in question.

“Look, introduction to Korean Pop Music.” He laughed, pointing at the textbook. “Can you believe there’s a whole course on that?”

You smiled, looking. “I dunno, it seems interesting. Besides, there’s classes for classical music, and pop music, why not K-pop?”

He nodded back, giving you a glance.

“Here, economics.” You mumbled out, walking down the long corridor. You ran your fingers along the spines of all the books, stopping at the familiar title. “Jesus, 98 dollars.”

He frowned, sidling up next to you.

Sighing you reluctantly pulled the book off the shelf. “Ready?”

Jisung looked at you under heavy brows.

“You’re going to get it?”

“It comes with the online version. I mean I have to get the online portion, might as well get the hardcopy for free with it.” You nodded towards the check out, stepping towards the staircase.

He followed in suit, stuffing his hands in his pocket. He ran into your back after you stopped abruptly, suddenly remembering something.

“Oh, didn’t you have to get a book?”

Jisung’s eyes widened, “Oh yeah.” At that moment he reached out and grabbed what seemed to be a random book from the closest table, but you chose to ignore it.

He raised the book, and gave you a smile.

Your eyebrows shot up, “Introduction to the female reproductive system?”

Jisung suddenly turned very pale, as he tried to play it off. “Yeah, ummm… for my biology class.”

You grinned, nodding like you believed him. But you chose to continue up the stairs, unable to watch as his face contorted. While you weren’t looking he quickly flipped over the cover, gulping at the sight of the price.

“80 dollars?” But he shook it off, trudging after you.

“Anything else for you?” A boy around the same age as you was checking you out.

“Nope, that should be it.” You smiled, fumbling around with your purse to find your wallet.

“Economics huh? Are you a ManEcon major?” He asked, leaning towards you slightly, ignoring Jisung who had arrived nearby.

You looked up from your bag, “Huh? Oh, yeah ManEcon. You?”

Your hand was still deep in your back when he replied. “Same, I’m a Junior, I managed to switch in last year.”

“Really?” You raised your eyebrows, “Was it difficult?”

“No, I mean I knew I wanted to switch early on, so I already was taking the classes I needed.”

You nodded back, “That makes sense. Have you taken macro yet? I’m signed up this quarter but I’m a little nervous.”

“I had Zeggert last quarter, she was pretty good.” He smiled, nodding, “She likes it when people go into office hours, really tries to help.”

You cracked a smile of your own, “No way, I have Zeggert. Thank goodness, I’m definitely going to use her office hours a lot then.”

You took a moment to successfully dig out your wallet, sliding him your card.

“That’s good, well, I’m here basically all the time. So if you ever need help, you know where to find me.” He winked at you, returning the card.

You murmured out a quick thanks, and stepped aside to let Jisung pay for his books.

Jisung didn’t take long, and you noticed that he was particularly cold with the cashier, who in turn wasn’t nearly as friendly with him as he was with you.

“He was kind of flirting with you.” Jisung mumbled out, picking at the brand new spine of his unneeded textbook.

You glanced at him, stepping through the door that he once again held open, not knowing how to respond to him.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” He asked under his breath as you caught up beside him.

“What?” You shot him a puzzled look.

Jisung raised his eyebrows, “Your boy...friend?” He slowed his words, questioning them himself.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You let out, not pausing in your steps. The same couldn’t be said for Jisung.

He jogged slightly to catch up. “But your date…?”

“My date?” You asked, now choosing to stop and face him. You shook your head, confused, “What date?”

“The- the guy you were with at the restaurant Wednesday.” He studied the sidewalk intently, flustered at his confession.

“You saw me?” You leaned down slightly, trying to catch his gaze.

“I-uh… I mean I didn’t mean to watch you. But we just happened to go to that restaurant.” He mumbled, choosing to walk forward and escape the situation, but you quickly caught up.

“He’s not my boyfriend, I mean, we were on a date, but he’s not my boyfriend.” You felt the need to defend yourself, or at least clear things up. Although you didn’t know why you felt the need.

“Oh. A date.” He mumbled. He was overjoyed at the fact that you weren’t dating anyone, but couldn’t help but be disappointed at the mention of a date. From what he remembered, you seemed to be enjoying yourself then.

The silence grew until you reached your doorstep. It had taken Jisung fifteen minutes to decide, fifteen minutes to pluck up the courage he needed.

“How about a date with me?” Although he refused to meet your eyes, you felt the genuinity.

Part 2

154 notes · View notes

kendrixtermina · 3 years ago

Text

Appreciating the Range of Type 6, or, one stereotypical example, and three that aren’t.

I want to tell you about some type 6 ppl that I know in my personal life.

Exemplar #1: F. B.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 p or cp: largely phobic – lots of safety worries, outright authoritarian follower personality Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 613 - 6w5 1w2 3w2 (“The Taskmaster” or “The Middle Manager”) jungian: ISTJ / SLI-Te oldham: Conscientious & Aggressive Essence Type: Mars Temperament: Pure Choleric

What he’s like:

Not pleasant.

Every “strict conservative middle aged guy” stereotype in the book. Control freak, makes a mountain out of every molehill, sees the world as full of axe murderers, judgemental as fuck, horrible temper and yet completely impersonable, all his opinions are copypasted from right-wing news sites. When they say war is good he’s for war, and when they say war is bad he’ll be like “At least Trump did not start any more wars” without perceiving a contradiction. Despite this, he believes is very hot, principled and funny. He is none of these things. He puts people down nonstop. My knowledge of neurochemistry tells me that he must have emotions somewhere or he couldn’t function, but I ain’t ever seen a single one of those emotions. They’re all for his job and a few trusted mentor figures. And his mom. At least he loved her.

If you say anything he doesn’t like, he “throws the sofa out the window” as his wife once put it.

How he’s a Type 6:

Well, he’s pretty much every negative stereotype in a nutshell… other than distrusting his partner. But that might be cause hes sx blind, or cause the wife is big on monogamy & wouldn’t ever cheat.

The one positive trait of 6 that he has is that he does his research. Before moving anywhere he googles the crime rates and if you need a doctor he might find you the best one. But even that can be overriden by ideology (hydroxychloroquine!). And if you don’t take his exact advice, there goes the sofa out the window again…

And I guess the work ethic from all 3 parts of the trifix really comes through – he hasn’t had a single bad grade in his life and always keeps collecting new certifications, and will make sure you hear about it...

Exemplar #2: I.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 P or cp: pretty much an even mix of phobic and counterphobic Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 614 - 6w5 1w2 4w3 (Would prolly call herself “The Big Pain” rather than “The Philosopher” ^^°) jungian: INTJ / ILI-Ni oldham: Serious & Conscientious Essence Type: Saturn Temperament: Chlor-Mel

What she’s like:

I’d describe her as serious, mature, discerning, focused and passionate about her friendships, if perhaps somewhat forceful at times, with a dry, sarcastic sense of humor.

Comes across like someone who knows what she’s talking about, with well-articulated points.

Often the Responsible Sibling, Designated Sanity Checker or Bullshit Detector.

Prefers to plan everything in advance in typical Ni dom fashion, even amusement part trips. Gets somewhat anxious without a future plan or shedule.

Often mistaken for a whole lot more sociable and confident that she really feels inside. (even I kinda bought it and got her whole darn trifix wrong on my first typing attempt, though that was when I was new to typology) She can act the boss act temporarily to get the situation over with, but she actually hates making decisions.

She does however have the occasional cute/pure moment where that lower function block comes out.

How she’s a Type 6:

She has saved our family from many a terrible restaurant by making sure to check the reviews. The preparing for all possible dangers is very 6, the acting tough outwardly when youre inwardly anxious, the intellectual problem solving & some tendency towards organization/responsibility/ “logistic” intelligence.

One online test she took gave her 5w6 instead of 6w5 but that’s probably just the ITxx-ness leaking in. I remember this one time we were discussing this artsy-fartsy theater play to which we’d had fascinatingly different reactions, and at one point I half-jokingly said something like “But does anyone ever really feel connected to others, or is that a myth?” to which she wrote, “[Name], what the fuck? Yes I do.” and then immediately deleted it. That’s more of a 6 reaction innit?

Nonetheless the wing does feature in significantly – for example she got very well informed about a lot of topics because she researched them to assuage a random survival-related fear, like, “How to make sure I have enough retirement money”

Exemplar #3: M.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 p or cp: largely phobic Instinct: sp/sx Trifix: 692 - 6w7 9w1 2w1 (Fortunately very much a “Good Samaritan” rather than “The Stockholm”) jungian: ISFP / SEI-Fi oldham: Sensitive & Devoted Essence Type: Lunar-Venus Temperament: Pure Supine

What she’s like:

Precious! Sweet, nice, good listener, friendly, gives all the best gifts. But also perceptive and good at understanding people, eg. mediating to the parents when one of the younger sisters is having An Emotion™ or winning the trust of problem children.

Unlike I. Who has some soc that helps her keep track of a larger circle of friends despite her introversion, M. tends to enjoy the closeness with her family and have just a few very close friends. Excellent friend material all around! The sx and Se also come out in enjoying art forms involving the body like theatre or dance.

She can be a bit shy, conflict-avoidant and occasionally a lil bit panicky though.

As a small kid she used to be super duper shy but then a wise english teacher encouraged her to play a big role in a play, and since then she’s a lot more confident and doesn’t let ppl push her around without limit, though she’s still a quiet, helpful person. There you see the difference that a good teacher can make.

How she’s a Type 6:

For one thing she moves and emotes faster than a core 9 would, and she fits the body language – big eyes that move around a lot, stands a bit lopsided, talks in a shrill voice on the rare occasions where we exhaust her patience etc. As a xSFx and a w7 she shows mostly the “warm, friendly, likeable” side of type 6. She also has a very 6-ish tendency to very frequently ask people’s opinions & feedback before making decisions. (the other fixes probably add to this)

Alas, she also has a little bit of of the fear/insecurity.

Also she has a social/care job which might be seen as 6-ish desire to serve the community.

Exemplar #4: J.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 P or cp: largely counterphobic Instinct: sx/soc ?? definitely not sp first. Trifix: 638 - 6w7 3w4 8w9(?) (Shall she be a “Justice Fighter” or a “Kyle”? Only time will tell.) jungian: ISTP / LSI-Se ?? Oldham: ? some Dramatic & Serious, perhaps ? Essence Type: Definitely Mercury Temperament: San-Mel

What she’s like:

The first adjective that usually comes to my mind is ‘cool’. Sassy, energetic & a little bit tough, but also affectionate when she wants to be. (though in admiring way rather than a mushy one)

She says the coolest things, has a certain sly sort of cleverness, and an astonishly good poker face. Bit of an occasional prankster. Hilarious. Knows all sort of cool science facts. Avid gamer.

Not especially popular or over the top sociable, but she gets sad if no one pays attention to her a while. Will act visibly moody where ppl can see sad or worried and can catastrophize a bit in such situations.

How she’s a Type 6:

I first though we might be getting an ExxP type 7 since she was a pretty energetic child, but once puberty hit and independent thought manifested, she turned out a whole lot too reactive and ‘edgy’ for this, and more on the ‘moderate introvert’ side of things.

Since then the sisterly dynamic has been like one fluffy golden dog and 3 hissing black cats. Hissing Cats #1 and #2 are very proud of her, but cat #1 was forced to conclude that she’s probably not a positive outlook type.

Out of all the reactive types 6 fits best because she does broadcast group identity (like wearing merchandise of her favorite media and wearing buttons in solidarity with ppl she likes.) & has a big case of Big Sibling worship for M, I, and someone else who isn’t on this list due to being a 9. (a 4 or 8 might like their older siblings but probably wouldn’t constantly stress the admiration.), but she can also show lasting, pouty displeasure with authority figures who have slighted her. (Like that one time I went too far in teasing her...)

I’m just assuming the 8 fix because that tends to make 6s more bold, louder & more shameless.

Basically she is the “punk teen” type of 6. She can be a bit dramatic & over-the top but still come to her family on advice (even advice on pranks!) in ways that xSTPs of other enneagrams prolly wouldn’t.

She also tends to use self-deprecating humor in tough situations and deflects compliments to present herself as ‘ordinary’.

...

This may sound like I’m really getting down on my first example (I won’t pretend that I’m not) but the point in bringing him up is that the reason he’s like this is: He was subject to really bad parenting that put a lot of fear into him, there was no good parenting to teach him broader coping strategies, he lived in a crappy environment that crushed his dreams, in a sense ‘confirming’ those fears and making him double down, resulting in a person who is just always rigidly following the same predictable pattern or jumping from one automatic reaction to the next with very little pausing and thinking. That goes for the other types too: A ‘stereotypical’ person is a desperate person ruled by fear, who cant stop or soften up even for an instant cause they constantly feel this fire of threat under their arse.

A lot of descriptions say that 6s ‘Follow authority’ but most would balk at the notion – ‘I do the research!’ they might argue ‘I don’t just trust anyone’ or ‘I’m actually a rebel’. There is of course such a thing as denial that’s more like the extreme case.

But with a more average, functional 6 it’s not so much ‘obedience’ as that they just like to bounce their ideas off of others to get feedback, or that they feature in other’s viewpoints. So you might get someone who can naturally use feedback (something other ppl may have to learn first) or who is very considerate of others (which others might have to consciously remind themselves to do.)

Those are sometimes pretty good traits actually.

On the other hand this is probably part of what makes decisions hard cause they consider all these possible scenarios of how things might displease or cause harm to everyone involved.

Being able to naturally snap into Action Mode under stress looks a bit enviable from the outside, but I. assures me that it’s actually super stressful & exhausting, even for someone who doesn’t get to a point of just being unreasonably aggro at you.

Though even an extreme case like F.B. would probably claim that he ‘did the research’ even as he’s 1:1 quoting the Pope at you, and then saying that you ‘have to be respectful’ even if you don’t even believe in Christianity. Hence why you get a lot of authoritarians talking about “disrespect”. You didn’t “fail to obey”, you “disrespected the flag” or “hurt the feelings of the Chinese people”. Because they’re still trying or inwardly thinking that they’re doing the consideritation & considering other’s PoV thing when they’ve long since crossed from respect and consideration into mindless obedience, all while still thinking that they’re very sceptical and discerning cause after all they really distrust the other political party or whatever.

In a way you get this obsession with ‘mind control’ cause they’re not unaware of & very much looking to guard the blind spot. They’re adults trying to do adult things.

For example, if I voiced an opinion to F. B. which he didn’t like, his reaction was often to ask “who told you that”

That’s just how he seems to think opinions work, somebody tells them to you.

Makes one wonder how he thinks new opinions start.

Yeah - Nobody told me that. I concocted it myself in some corner of my head. And in the interest of objectivity, I should stress that you can also end talking out of your ass that way, if you’re not basing it on enough outside data. Making up new shit has more of a quadratic than a linear learning curve – at least with copying you get something semi-useful right away. In making up your own you might be really off a long time before you stumble on something useful.

Also, I was young at the time and it’s not wholly unreasobale to think that an inexperienced person might be duped. I reacted really badly in part cause he hit my own ego buttons cause I was of course proud of this epiphany that I had concocted by myself, and now he says (or so I perceived it, being sensitive to accusations of incompetence) that I’m too dumb to form an opinion, so of course I launched into full Obnoxious Reddit Dude Mode.

In I. It manifests more on a reasonable useful level like “Oh wait, should [young cousin] be on TikTok? I don’t want him to get sucked into some cultish BS.” which is at least something the parents should have on the radar/ warn him about even if they do let him use TikTok, because for all that it is vital for him to get his experience with independent socializing & experimentig with sel-presentation, people do sometimes get suckered into cults or goaded into unsafe tests of courage.

And in a sense… maybe they overamphasize it but to some extent they’re also simply consciously aware/ mindful of it. The rest of us are not immune to propaganda after all, solong as it’s presented in a way pleasing to our egos. Any type structure can become a ‘hook’ if you’re not careful.

#enneagram #enneagram 6 #ennea 6 #6w5 #6w7

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galaxy-parchment · 4 years ago

Text

Jon is outed as Steampunk

Hello my beautiful patient followers. I’ve returned with TMA content because it’s my latest obsession. I’m proud to say that my first contribution to the fandom is an obligatory Mechs!Jon fic because I find them hilarious.

Tim was doing his best to avoid having to go up to the boss’s office all day, but was very disappointed to find he had no choice but to pop in for a visit to give him some of the ‘possibly true’ statements.

It wasn’t like he was going to believe it anyway - what was even the point? The guy was so uptight Tim didn’t think he knew how to have some fun and imagine the possibility that maybe there was something exciting in the universe. Tim supposed that didn’t really change the fact that he needed to give the guy his precious statements, so he groaned and grabbed the pile he’d gathered up.

He approached the door and stopped short of it, wondering if he would even notice if he didn’t give him the statements. He really didn’t have the energy for whatever job he was going to be given if he dared to walk in. Then something caught his ear.

Was Jon… chanting?

He was talking slightly quieter than his speaking volume and that definitely wasn’t English. It couldn’t be him speaking to himself. Jon had specifically told him the other day he didn’t speak any other languages. He tried picking out his words in case he was just mishearing, but the words were very clear and were certainly not anything coherent. He did catch him occasionally switch to humming. Was Jonathan Sims, head archivist of the Magnus Institute singing to himself?

Tim made a mental note of the more coherent words and stepped into the doorway.

“Hey, boss!” he couldn’t help but be amused at how Jon jumped at the sound of him. He ripped his hand away from his face, which was pressed up against it, and readjusted his glasses with the hand.

“What did you need, Tim?” he asked, looking up at him unenthusiastically.

“Got a fresh delivery of statements for you!” he said cheerily, stepping up to the desk and placing the pile on an empty part of the table with a satisfying slap.

“Later than usual I see. Doesn’t matter I suppose. Would you mind filing away all of these on your way out?” Jon said, gesturing to a pile of statement files that was even larger than the one he’d just brought in. Great.

“Sure thing, boss! Wouldn’t want you having any of the fun, eh?” He joked, which didn’t seem to carry the same amusement for the other man.

“Shut up, Tim,” he deadpanned, returning to his work, signalling that the exchange was over.

Tim wandered back to his desk faster than usual and frantically wrote down all of the phrases he could remember.

What were they…. He definitely said something that sounded like ‘yai’ and he thought he heard a ‘sothoth’. How was he supposed to find anything with this gibberish? With little hope he opened up his web browser,typing in the words, and was surprised to find it wasn’t gibberish at all. It was some Lovecraftian chant. He doubted Jonathan ‘this-statement-is-wrong-because-this-word-is-mispelled’ Sims would be the sort of guy to worship Cthulhu.

He’d been humming though, hadn’t he? Maybe it was a song. With his impeccable research skills he added ‘song’ to the end of his search and right there on the first page of results was a song called ‘Red Signal’ by the Mechanisms. He clicked on a video and listened to the song. That was definitely the same tune. It was strange, though. He never really pegged the bossman as someone that listened to this sort of thing. It reminded him of a folksy sort of punk or metal? Then the chanting stopped and switched to a spoken verse and Tim froze.

Was that Jon? It definitely sounded like him… Maybe the voice was a bit deeper and gravelly but Tim could have sworn that it was his voice. He frantically searched up the band. After looking through some photoshoots for some old albums he couldn’t help but stare. That was definitely his boss with quite a bit of makeup and dressed in some very over-the-top steampunk getup and flipping off the camera. He suddenly felt someone pressing up against his chair from behind.

“Is that Jon?” Sasha asked, leaning over his shoulder, squinting at the screen with her head cocked.

“Apparently,” Tim said, grinning ear to ear. “Look, I did some digging and it turns out he used to be in this steampunk band,” he continued, showing Sasha more pictures of Jon and his bandmates on the page.

“That’s amazing. He looks quite good in the pictures though, don’t you think?” she said with a chuckle.

“Right? He actually looks like he’d be fun to have a drink with!” He switched back to ‘Red Signal’ and started playing it. “I mean listen to this, he’s actually good, too!”

“How did you even find this?”

“He was singing it to himself and I used my incredibly advanced skills to track it down,” Tim bragged, making a show of readjusting his lapels.

“If only you put the same effort into actually working,” she chided, giving him a cheerful nudge with her elbow.

“Alas, I don’t think there’d be any work left for the rest of you if I did. It’s a public service to you all.” He grinned.

“Riiiight, because this place could run without me around.” Sasha grinned back.

The door to the shared office opened with a sharp creak and Martin stepped into the room.

They looked up and Tim called, “Hey Martin! How was Bexley?”

“Quite nice, actually! No creepy witches sending body parts to people, but there were some very kind old ladies I had the pleasure of speaking to!”

“Sounds like it was fun!” Sasha replied with a warm smile.

Martin was placing his bag down at his desk when he stopped and looked back at the two of them.

“What song is that?” he asked.

Tim grinned mischievously. “It’s called ‘Red Signal’, it’s by-“

“-by the Mechanisms? I had a friend that loved them, played it all of the time,” Martin finished, chuckling to himself at the memory. “I quite like their music, actually.”

Sasha and Tim took a moment to stare at each other knowingly and beamed innocently at Martin as he turned back to them.

Sasha looked at him with the same warm smile she’d given him before. “Maybe you could ask Jon if he’s heard of them while you give him your report?”

“Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing he’d go for,” he wondered.

“People can surprise you all of the time, may as well ask anyway. It’s not like he’s gonna hate your guts any more than he already does.”

Martin made a disappointed wince. “I guess so.”

“Don’t let that grump get you down, Martin, he probably just has a huge crush on you,” Sasha smirked.

“What? N-no! As if, that doesn’t even make any sense!” he stammered, turning back to his desk and sitting down to hide the red that was spreading over his face.

“Ask him, though, will you? I’ve already had to go up there today and he’s given me a whole stack of files to go through. Not sure I could take another trip,” Tim joked as Sasha moved back to her desk. “Don’t tell him it was me that was wondering, though, he’d probably think it’s a trick or something,” he added casually.

“R-right, sure thing, Tim,” Martin obliged.

—

Martin knocked on Jon’s half-open door later that day, report in hand. Jon spared him a brief glance upwards before looking back down at his work.

“Did you find anything regarding the Bexley statement?” he asked, not bothering to hide his disinterest as Martin placed his report on the table.

“I didn’t find the woman described in the statement, but I made sure to check every elderly Angela,” he said, a bit disappointed at how useless the trip was. “I did have some wonderful conversations about jigsaw puzzles with a few of them, though!” he added cheerfully. Thankfully Jon didn’t seem to be in a mood to scold him, but wasn’t at all invested in the conversation. Martin was about to leave when he remembered Tim’s request.

“Oh, uh, by the way, we were- well we were talking about it earlier so I was wondering if you’d heard of the Mechanisms? Like that space pirate band that used to play in a lot of London bars?”

Jon froze up for a moment before quickly explaining, “Erm, no I don’t think I have. Not uh…. not a big fan of going to see bands play at shows, you know?”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “Oh, okay? I guess it doesn’t seem like something you’d like… are you okay? You seem… off?”

“I’m quite fine, Martin, just a bit of a headache, I suppose. If you’ll excuse me I need to get back to this,” he said dismissively, returning to whatever he was writing down and setting Martin’s report on a stack.

“Sure! Did you need any tea? I’ve got one that’s really good for headaches,” he offered.

“That won’t be necessary, Martin, get back to work.”

“Right.” Martin concluded as he left the room.

—

Things had been going a bit too slowly for Martin’s liking in the past few days. That usually meant Jon got antsy about people not doing as much work. It wasn’t like there was anything to do in the first place.

He was at least in the break room with Tim having lunch, who was playing more Mechanisms music, so Jon couldn’t tell either of them off right now. As his mind drifted to Jon, the man himself entered the room with his own lunch and made his way to the coffee machine.

The song Tim was playing was pretty good. Martin curiously looked at Tim’s phone on the table playing the music.

“What song is that, Tim?”

“Ah, it’s called ‘Loki’, it’s from this great album called ‘The Bifrost Incident’,” he said with an obnoxious grin. Jon looked at them and ducked his head when Martin looked back.

Martin pulled out his own phone and searched up ‘The Bifrost Incident’ and found a video from a show that he opened up. After a bit of pre-show banter the first song started.

That was when Martin heard Johnny DeVille do the song’s introduction. He’d always thought the lead singer sounded familiar, but the paragraph gave Martin a very vivid recollection of the exact tone of voice Jon always used when he recorded statements.

That couldn’t be right, no way was that him. He took a good look at Johnny and looked between his own phone at the man with black cracks drawn on his face wearing the most steampunk outfit he’d ever seen and Jon, who was standing there, in his sweater vest, making a cup of coffee to go with his sandwich. Tim was looking at both of them struggling not to laugh and Jon was suddenly VERY interested in the coffee he had just poured out.

“JOHNNY DEVILLE?” Martin exclaimed, prompting Tim to bend over, choking on his own stifled laughter.

Jon picked up his coffee and claimed his sandwich from the table behind him and refused to meet Martin’s gaze.

“Thats- uh- probably just a coincidence… I’m, uh, I’ll just have lunch in my office today,” he mumbled out, clearly not convinced he’d covered it up at all and left the room without another word.

Tim pulled himself back up and let out a heavy breath. “Oh, ha, Martin, sorry, it’s just Sasha and I were wondering how long it was gonna take,” he sighed gleefully. “Hopefully he’ll face society again. Hard to imagine the bossman was ever that cool, huh?”

Martin stared at the door. “Yeah…”

—

The next day Jon came into the office, but hadn’t shown his face for the whole day. Martin felt bad about yesterday, he probably overreacted a bit. Tim assured him it was fine and that the boss just isn’t the type to take a bit of embarrassment on the chin. This didn’t stop Martin from dropping in with a cup of tea when it became clear Jon wasn’t leaving his office for lunch.

Martin knocked on the door and upon getting a gruff ‘yes?’ from the other side he let himself in. Jon was more dismissive than usual and didn’t even spare a glance at him. Martin wasn’t sure how much of it was his usual grumpiness and how much was because of yesterday.

He set the tea down in the spot Jon usually kept it, right next to his coffee mug from yesterday. Martin waited for any acknowledgement. The acknowledgement never came and Jon’s expression was unreadable. The fact that he was looking down intently didn’t help.

“You know, I think it’s pretty cool that you were in a band. It’s not like you’re a murderer or something actually bad,” Martin said, desperate to break the silence. Jon clenched his pen tighter and looked up at him cautiously.

“That’s… kind of you to say…” he responded.

“Don’t worry about it, we’ve all done some pretty silly things. I will be honest, though, Jon, if being the lead singer for the Mechanisms is the most embarrassing thing you’ve done, I am extremely jealous.”

Jon smiled in a way that looked almost bashful on him. “It was a lot of fun, performing. It was a real shame when we all split after university.”

“I can imagine,” Martin sighed, silently cursing himself at how softly he’d said it. “Steampunk outfits really suit you, though, Jon. The makeup was a nice touch too.” He turned and made his way back to the door.

As Martin went to close the door behind him Jon grumbled, “Shut up, Martin.”

—

The next morning Martin found something on his desk. It was a Mechanisms shirt neatly folded up and a copy of the Bifrost Incident album, both signed by all of the band members.

The note lying on top of them read ‘I had a few extras at home - J’ and Martin couldn’t help but feel giddy.

#galaxywrites #the magnus archives #tma #fanfiction #the magnus pod #jonathan sims #the archivist #tim stoker #sasha james #the mechanisms #mechs!jon #martin blackwood

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ibijau · 4 years ago

Text

Deathbed wedding pt2

Wishing you again a happy new year. I’m starting mine with some xisang! :D

Nie Huaisang plots, but isn’t as careful as he’d thought

Nie Huaisang absolutely refused to come out of his room to have dinner that night, no matter how much Nie Zonghui and Meng Yao pleaded for him to be reasonable. For a full shichen, he also refused to have that dinner brought to him in his room, arguing through the door that he refused to eat anything until his brother apologised for what he’d said earlier. Then, because Nie Huaisang saw no reason to be kind to his brother, he also repeated Nie Mingjue’s exact words to them.

He could guess, already, that Nie Zonghui was probably going to have an argument of his own with Nie Mingjue on that subject. After all he’d been the one to personally train Nie Huaisang since he’d decided to finally take an interest in his sabre. Saying that Nie Huaisang hadn’t made any progress in the past year was to insult Nie Zonghui’s skill as a teacher, and being their cousin he shared that volatile temper of theirs. Busy handling two fights at the same time, Nie Mingjue was sure to be quite distracted in the days to come.

More importantly though, Meng Yao was going to be angry at Nie Mingjue too. Considering his background and his late start, he sometimes took it a bit personally when people spoke of someone having low skills. He had been very supportive of Nie Huaisang all along, even sometimes training with him when his other duties allowed, and he would not take kindly to hearing that Nie Mingjue thought some people couldn’t be taught at all. His anger would be less explosive than Nie Zonghui, and Nie Mingjue probably wouldn’t even consciously notice it, but it would still throw off their perfect balance, and that too would play to Nie Huaisang’s advantage when the time came.

Besides, he really was upset over what his brother had said, and so it really did feel good to complain about it.

When Meng Yao and Nie Zonghui gave up on making him eat that evening, Nie Huaisang dug into the secret stash of snacks that existed precisely because of this sort of arguments.

He went to bed early, and rose up again just as early, a habit he had taken up during his time in the Cloud Recesses. While most of the sect slept, Nie Huaisang set to work preparing some talismans.

With Chiwen, his sabre, Nie Huaisang knew that he was exactly as bad as everyone said, if not even worse. Using his spiritual energy directly was no good either, he just didn’t have enough, and it was too weak. But Nie Huaisang had found over the past year that he had a knack for talismans. Calligraphy had always been one of the few things he could focus on, even as a child, and he had a good steady hand when writing. On top of that, he had a great memory and a good eye for detail, which made it easy for him to learn and copy new talismans. It was really a shame that Qinghe Nie had no strong tradition of using those. He hard learned the basic ones everyone knew, but aside from that the few specialised he had found in their library were mostly meant to bait creatures, with very little to actually fight. If Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji hadn’t loaned him a few of their own sects’ talismans to learn, Nie Huaisang’s skill would have been quite useless.

That was the story of his life, of course. Nie Huaisang knew himself to be extremely talented, and in quite a few domains too. If he had been born in a non-cultivating family, he would have been considered a very accomplished and skilled young man fit to go serve the emperor, but alas, in the cultivation world none of the things he was good at mattered.

He had never really cared, until certain events had forced him to.

A good while after he’d woken up, Nie Huaisang heard the rest of his brother’s sect become more active as well. Without surprise, Nie Zonghui and Meng Yao came knocking at his door again. A scene very similar to that of the previous night played out, with Nie Huaisang still refusing to eat anything. Because they both had a lot to do, Nie Zonghui and Meng Yao informed him that they were leaving his breakfast on a tray in front of the door. Nie Huaisang ignored the food, snacking instead on some watermelon seeds while he wrote a letter informing a certain person that he would be at a certain place on a certain day. He gave the letter to one of his better trained birds, crossing his fingers that the animal would carry his message in time, hoping that he would be awaited even if his letter was missed. If he wanted to be at the agreed place in time, he would have to leave that very evening, and to fly faster than he was usually comfortable with. This gave him very little time to prepare everything, but it could be done if he played his cards right.

Between breakfast and lunch time, Nie Huaisang took care of his sabre and practised his forms for a while. Nie Xinfang would be furious if she knew that he was pushing his wounded wrist so much between talismans earlier and the weight of Chiwen now, but it truly wasn’t hurting that bad. Or at least, the pain wasn’t so distracting that he couldn’t bear with it.

At lunch time, Nie Huaisang still refused any food, and also announced he wouldn’t be talking to anyone anymore until Nie Mingjue came in person to apologise. Considering the intensity of the fight, that was unlikely to happen for at least another three days, so he felt quite safe in making that demand.

In the afternoon, Nie Huaisang tried to meditate, only to end up falling asleep. It was fine, he sheepishly decided when he awoke. He needed to be well rested, since he would be flying pretty far.

At dinner time he remained perfectly silent when Meng Yao and Nie Zonghui came to check on him, making no more noise than if he hadn't been there at all. As soon as they left, he brought inside the dinner they'd put on his doorstep and ate the whole thing. This, hopefully, would create the expectation that he was angry enough to skip a few meals, and so his absence would take longer to be noticed.

With this last part of his plan accomplished, Nie Huaisang only had to pack everything he'd be bringing with him and wait for darkness to fall.

A little after the sun had fully set, Nie Huaisang exited his room through a window and, carefully avoiding any patrols, any servants still going around, he made his way to a certain secret passage that led outside of the Unclean Realm.

Meng Yao caught Nie Huaisang at the exit of that secret passage.

How his brother’s deputy had managed to find that exit and to get there before him was a mystery, and one Nie Huaisang would need to solve… some other time.

“I swear I’ll fight you if you try to stop me,” he hissed. “Wen Chao invited me to a Night Hunt, I have to go. You know he always organises the best Night Hunts, they’ve got a bunch of awful monsters on their lands. I can’t let that chance pass me by! So let me go, or I’ll...”

“There’s little glory to be found in fighting me,” Meng Yao retorted calmly. “So don't even bother. And Nie gongzi needs to learn a little patience.”

Nie Huaisang huffed. “Not you too. You know they won’t let him have me even when he’s of age, not if I can’t prove I’m good enough! He’s too nice to go against his elders if they say no again, and then we’ll both be miserable for ever, and…”

Meng Yao laughed softly.

“This humble servant only meant that if you had waited another shichen to sneak away, he would not have seen you go out,” he explained, looking far too amused in the face of Nie Huaisang's despair. “Nie gongzi should have checked that nobody was still awake. Nie gongzi also should be aware that I’ll have this passage condemned, now that I know it. It’s a security hazard.”

“It’s not. Da-ge is aware it exists, there’s a bunch of protections over it.”

“Then I will have to warn Nie zongzhu that the protections must be strengthened, since that did not stop me from guessing where it leads.”

Nie Huaisang gritted his teeth, so frustrated that he felt tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. He'd been so close to getting away with this.

And it wasn’t just about the Night Hunt itself. He knew that Lan Wangji was going, which meant a chance to finally get news from Lan Xichen, since they hadn’t been allowed to write to each other since that day. Nie Huaisang wanted to know how the boy he loved was doing, if Lan Xichen missed him too, if he hadn’t been forgotten, if his efforts to prove himself were working at all…

“Meng Yao, you have to let me go,” Nie Huaisang ordered, gripping the handle of his sabre in what he hoped would seem like a threat, even when they both knew Meng Yao had more skill than him. “It’ll be different this time, I’ll be more careful, but I really have to go. I don’t know how much more time I have!”

Pity flashed across Meng Yao’s face. He’d heard those worrying rumours too, of course. Meng Yao always kept track of all the gossip, he must have heard about this long before Nie Huaisang had.

Hopefully, none of it was true anyway.

“I’m not here to stop Nie gongzi,” Meng Yao announced. “I just wanted to make sure there was no breach to our defence, and to warn you it’ll be harder for you to leave next time. And did you take food?”

Relaxing a little, Nie Huaisang nodded, allowing himself a weak smile.

“Of course. Food, warning signals in case I get in trouble, a bunch of talismans… Da-ge taught me well. How much of an advance are you giving me?”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you leave, and unless your brother decides to visit you, I won’t ‘discover’ you’re gone until tomorrow afternoon. But you will owe me,” Meng Yao warned with a pleasant smile. “And next time, if I catch you, I will alert your brother.”

From anyone else, it would have been a threat to stop disobeying his brother already. Coming from Meng Yao though, Nie Huaisang took it more as advice to improve his sneakiness.

“There won’t be a next time,” Nie Huaisang promised, throwing himself at his brother’s deputy to hug him. “I’ll show them for sure this time, and then I’ll never have to go on a stupid Night Hunt again!”

Meng Yao huffed, clearly unconvinced, but allowed the hug for once in spite of his usual dislike for displays of affection. Nie Huaisang figured he must have looked pretty pathetic if Meng Yao was acting so nice.

He certainly felt very pathetic. It had been over a year since he had last seen Lan Xichen, and he had made so little progress toward proving himself.

This time really needed to be different. He couldn’t keep failing, or else Lan Xichen might start to share his father’s opinion.

Nie Huaisang had to show he was capable of more than anyone expected, no matter the cost.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #jin guangyao #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #deathbed wedding au #jau writes

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kzzzo · 5 years ago

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chapter 5 - don't let it bring you down

"but don't let it bring you down and turn your face into a frown"

series masterlist - here

previous | next

a/n: wrote this right after i posted chap 4 and it's already 4 am 😃 im still not sleepy rip. so as i said, ive been writing the whole night so i don't know if this chapter makes sense sksksks

Kuroo had a volleyball game coming up in two weeks which made him busy after school. He hadn’t been able to pick up the triplets from daycare and look after them. As for you, he only saw you in the mornings and briefly during classes as they had volleyball practice even during class hours. To say he misses you is an understatement. He even went as far as setting the picture he secretly took of you as his lock screen wallpaper so that you were the first thing he sees when he turns on his phone. He made sure to be careful as to not let a stranger who doesn’t know of your circumstances see it.

Akaashi approached Kuroo who was sitting on the floor with his head tilted back. The curly haired male handed him a bottle of water before sitting down next to the bed haired one.

“Bokuto and I could feel how much you miss (Y/N) from a mile away.” Akaashi bluntly stated.

“Really, now.” Kuroo replied, too tired and (Y/N)-deprived to think of a snarky reply. He chugged down the water Akaashi gave him and stood up to leave. “Well, I’m going first.”

“We’ll be going, too.”

With that, all three of them went back to their respective homes. Upon arriving home, Kuroo went straight into the bathroom to shower in able to go straight to bed. Stepping out of the shower topless while drying his hair off with a towel, he fishes his gym bag for his phone only to be met with anything other than the said device. He felt his heart race. Just when he had something to hide in there, he just had to lose his phone. He poured out the contents of his bag into his bed and he felt the fatigue in his body leave him.

Meanwhile back in the university, a student who had business in the gym saw a phone light up. She picks up the phone and turn it on to try to identify the owner. The lock screen was a photo of a woman carrying what seems like a two-year old baby. She takes a closer look and was finally able to identify that it was you.

Back home you were doing your homework when you hear a series of knocks on your door. Opening it, you were met with Kuroo looking quite jittery and pale. You furrow your brows before asking him what was wrong.

“I, uh. Can you do me a favor? My phone’s missing and I’m pretty sure the location’s on.”

“Oh, sure, sure. Come in. Do you want some water?”

“I’m fine but thanks anyway.”

The two of you work together to locate his phone and he was so relieved to find out that it was just in the university, most likely in the gym. Then he remembered what he had set as his lock screen a few days ago. He quickly thanked you then rushed to pick his phone up, silently praying that no one saw his wallpaper. He didn’t think that you’d be ashamed of your sons, but then you didn’t really seem like you intended to tell people you’re not close to seeing as people usually don’t have anything nice to say. He wanted to respect that decision of yours but because of him losing his phone you might have a hard time. When he got to the university his phone was at the lost and found which only means that someone had seen his lock screen. Fuck.

The next day rolled around and you were in Kuroo’s backseat with the triplets as usual. The two of you drop them off at the daycare and when you went back to his car, he seemed paler than before. He was also tapping the stirring wheel repeatedly, something he does when something is bothering him.

“Tetsu,” the way he flinched at the sound of your voice had you even more worried. “Are you okay?”

He debated whether he should tell you what he’d done. If by chance someone did see it and the news had spread, it’d be his fault and there was a big chance that this would be the last time you’d talk to him. However, he didn’t want to keep it from you and wait before you find out yourself. He sighed, here goes.

“Listen, (Y/N). I just want to say that I’m sorry in advance,” your brows furrowed, heart beating faster. “Why don’t you go grab my phone then turn it on.”

You do as he says, eyes widening at the candid photo of you and Masao. It was surprising, but you didn’t get what was making him so troubled.

“Remember when I left that behind at uni last night?” He glanced at you to check your reaction. Your expression remained confused. “I got it from the lost and found. So, that being said… it’s highly likely that someone saw that lock screen.”

It took you a few more seconds to get what he was saying and then, oh. Oh. You got it. There’s a big chance that at this very second, people would be talking about you and your sons. You didn’t know whether to laugh or what. It was like high school all over again. You were sure of one thing, though. You were scared. Scared of having to walk through the hallways with all eyes on you, hearing their whispers. The disgust and disappointment evident in the way they looked at you.

Your silence made Kuroo even more tense. He couldn’t read your expression from the little glances he’s taking as he drives. You carefully place his phone back where it was before speaking.

“Oh.” You reply shortly. Tears were starting to pool around your eyes and you were sure your voice would break if you speak. You didn’t want Kuroo to see you being weak and worry so you turn your head away from him. He took this as a sign that you were indeed mad at him, his heart broke thinking about how he ruined everything between the two of you.

When you arrived you quickly stepped out of the car and walked ahead. Usually, Kuroo would open the door for you then you’d walk together, but of course, today would be different. Maybe even the following days, weeks, months, years. Who knows? All Kuroo knew was that he fucked up and he’d driven you away from him.

You wiped away your tears before entering the building. Just as you’d suspected, almost everyone was looking at you weird and whispering amongst themselves. You were even able to hear one of the few things they said.

“I heard that the child looked like it was already at least two, that means…”

You clenched your fists and carried on. When you entered the classroom, you were surprised to see people sitting down in their respective seats quietly. Too quietly. You expected the classroom to be the place where there’d be more people talking about you. It still didn’t change the fact, however, that some others have their eyes on you.

“Mornin’, (Y/N)!” Bokuto greeted. You smiled back at him curtly. Akaashi was looking at you with worry but you didn’t notice as you immediately sink into your seat.

Classes dragged on longer than it used to and lunch became unbearable as you decided not to join your three friends. Instead, you lock yourself in a bathroom stall, head tilted back as you try to stop your tears from falling. You thought you’d be safe there but you were proved to be wrong when at least four girls entered, gossiping about ‘that freshie who already has a child.’

‘Please, let this day end already.’ You thought.

When the classes were finally over, you went straight home instead of at work, wanting nothing else but to wrap yourself in your blanket and cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t even realize that you haven’t picked up the triplets from the daycare when you’d fallen asleep.

Kuroo was staring at your number on his phone, debating whether to call you or give you space. When he was about to turn his phone off and shove it into his gym bag, he felt it vibrate. However, instead of your name popping up like he hoped, it was an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Ah, Sir Kuroo! I’m the triplets’ teacher. Ms. (Y/N) hasn’t come to pick the boys up. I know it’s only been twenty minutes but Ms. (Y/N) is never late unless she calls to say so. She wouldn’t answer her phone either. I was hoping you could check up on her.”

He felt his heart beating faster. “O-okay. I’ll pick the boys up on the way as well. Thank you for calling me.”

“Okay, I’ll have the boys ready. Have a safe drive, sir.”

The call ended and Kuroo slung his gym bag on his shoulder. He turned to Bokuto and Akaashi who were also taking a break from practice.

“Guys, I’m going ahead. The triplets’ teacher called, apparently they haven’t been picked up yet and (Y/N)’s not answering her phone. Cover for me.” He didn’t even wait for their response when he practically sprinted to his car.

When he picked up the boys, they were staring at him with a curious look on their faces. Kuroo wasn’t able to pay mind to it as he couldn’t stop thinking about you. After the three were safely seated in their car seats, they drove to where you worked but alas, you weren’t there. Your boss explained that you didn’t come in that day and that usually you’d call when you weren’t coming in. This didn’t make Kuroo feel any better at all. The only place he knows to check was your apartment.

Back at your apartment you’d just woken up, panicking when you saw that it’s already dark out. You tried to recall if you even picked up the boys. When you remembered that you didn’t, you sprung up. Muttering a string of ‘oh shit’s, you run out of your room. You were about to open the door when someone from the other side beat you to it. Kuroo was standing in front of you, hands on the triplets’ shared stroller. Without a word, you grab the stroller from him and slammed the door on him. You were 100% sure that there were clear traces of the breakdown you had earlier so in fear of having Kuroo see you in that state, you had no choice but to cold heartedly slam the door on him.

Once again, Kuroo Tetsurou’s heart broke.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo imagines #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagines #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou imagine #kuroo tetsurou imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu au #haikyuu #with a smile series

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enigmasalad · 5 years ago

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Weddings Are Outdated, Overly Expensive Pageantry (But Please Marry Me)

(Here it is! The awaited sequel to “Weddings Are Just Funerals With Cake”! Please enjoy, and I thank you all for all of your support! WARNING: I can’t speak or write in any other language but English, so I use google translate. I’m sorry if it’s not accurate!)

Virgil swallowed thickly as he knocked on the door. He shouldn’t be nervous, this was his mom’s house for fucks sake! Then again, the reason why he was here was a nerve-racking one. He heard the door unlock and the handle turn. The red door swung open to reveal, well, his mom. Same brown hair in what’s known as the ��dying anime mother’s” hairstyle, round glasses and calm look. “Hello dear. I’m so glad you’re here.” “Hi mom.” His mother stepped aside so he could come in. He knew his mother could tell he was nervous. She always did. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and decided to cut to the chase. “I need advice. Badly.” He said. “Of course. That’s what I’m here for dear. But let’s sit down somewhere more comfortable first.” She suggested. Virgil followed his mother to the living room. She sat down in her green armchair and he sat on the green couch. With her hands crossed in her lap like a woman from the 1800’s, she asked the question. “What do you need advice on?” “I uh..” Virgil felt his anxiety start to act up. What If his mother doesn’t approve? Or what if she doesn’t have the right advice? Oh god is it hot in here? “I-I’m wanting to propose!” He hurriedly said. Not even three seconds later he heard two familiar voices scream “WHAT?” He didn’t know who rushed into the living room faster, his little sister Missy, or- “H-Hello Miss Rosita. I didn’t know you were over.” You see, Virgil knew Miss Rosita all his life. She was his mother’s best friend. She lived nearby and often had them over for dinners. Heck she was like a second mother to him. Of course, there’s one VERY important detail about Rosita that Virgil can never forget. She was Roman’s mother. Well, Roman and Remus’s mother, but quite frankly, no one had seen Remus in years, ever since he disowned himself. “Ginerva did you know about this?!” Rosita asked accusingly. “No Rosita, I didn’t know. You owe me fifty dollars by the way.” Virgil’s mother said with a slight smirk. Rosita grumbled for a moment but then turned her attention to Virgil. Her face immediately went from pouting to a big grin. She was about to say something when a higher pitched voice spoke up. “You’re getting married?! Ew!” Yep. That was his little sister. Tough, aggressive, disgusted by romance, and overprotective over both of her siblings. “Not yet.” He replied. “I’m not wearing a dress! And I better be able to wear my Viking helmet! And you better not kiss a lot!” she said while crossing her arms. “Marietta Ursa Petrov please. You’re stressing your brother out.” His mother said softly, but not lacking authority. Missy just pouted and stomped off, probably to go sulk in her room. Right now Virgil wanted to sulk in his room too, but alas, he cannot. “So you came for advice on proposing el hijo?” Rosita asked with a smile that both filled Virgil with comfort and dread. “Rosita, don’t overwhelm him please.” His mother softly reminded. “Yes, Yes I know. I wouldn’t dream of overwhelming him. BUT! This proposal must be perfect! Its for my son after all! And my two other adopted sons of course.” Virgil’s mother laughed lightly. Yep, she was definitely Roman’s mother.

“What about a classic! Candlelit dinner, roses, a dance in the moon light!” Rosita suggested. “Uh, Logan wouldn’t really like that.” Virgil said. Rosita huffed. “Forgot he’s too serious. Hmm…” “What about going to the park? You could do it at night so there can be stars.” “Ginerva that’s boring! It has to be romantic!” Virgil tugged at his hoodie strings. Roman and Patton would eat that romantic stuff up, but Logan, he’d be uncomfortable. Virgil closed his eyes, trying to focus on something, ANYTHING, that would be perfect for the three of them. Oh god what would he even propose with? Wait, Is Patton still sensitive from what happened two years ago? Dammit he didn’t think of that! This wasn’t a good idea. Proposing is too soon. “You know what, I think it’s too soon to propose. Sorry for wasting time.” Virgil said, voice cracking. Fuck his voice cracked. Rosita and his mother stopped discussing and turned to him. “Oh honey.” “Dear what makes you think that?” Virgil swallowed and shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, I think it’s too soon. I mean yeah its been five years but It’s also only been two years since Patton, well, you know.” Virgil explained. “How could I not Virgil? Do you not remember Ginerva and I finding out where they lived and cursing them out?” Rosita said. “I will admit, I did like seeing that wretched woman cry.” Virgil’s mother admitted.

Virgil nodded and fiddled with his hoodie strings once again. “I think its too soon.” Rosita and Virgil’s mother looked at each other for a moment. “Dear, how about you have a chat with your loves?” his mother suggested. “Wouldn’t that spoil the, well, surprise of a proposal?” Virgil asked. “It could, I won’t lie, but I think Roman, Patton and Logan would like to hear your input and give theirs.” Virgil nodded, feeling a bit more at ease, and yet nervous. “Ah, stereotypical romance doesn’t always work honey.” Rosita admitted with a smile. So taking his mother’s advice, he decided to talk to them about, well, marriage. Of course, when he got them together, he panicked and just said he wanted to plan the next date. Fuck.

Real smooth Virgil, totally didn’t fuck that up. Soon, the four boys’ schedules got busy, so Virgil forgot about a time to ask them. He was too busy watching his brother and sister while his mother and Rosita had “ladies’ night”. Not to mention all the work! Oh goodness the work! Five commissions in three months! At least he’s getting more known as a writer. So yeah, a stressful three months. And as if angels descended from heaven and took away their calendars, they had some time to be with each other. Roman insisted they go out to dinner and Patton insisted they go to the park. Logan luckily didn’t have anything against having a night out. Virgil himself agreed to the outing. Logan and Virgil shared a smile, watching their loves cheer and dance in victory.

Virgil was in the process of putting on his shoes when he froze for a moment. ‘Oh shit, this is what mom and Rosita suggested.’

Pushing that thought aside, he tied his shoes. “C’mon slowpoke!” Roman huffed. “Dude I’m coming. Geez!” Virgil said. “Take your time, Roman’s just being impatient” Virgil heard Logan say. Virgil got up and met his loves at the front door. Virgil smiled cause Patton was bouncing on the top of his toes, which meant he was excited. They left the house and began walking to the restaurant they decided upon, which was a tiny sushi bar a block or two away. Sushi reminded Virgil of college. Of having a dorm room with his boyfriend at the time, Roman. Of both of them in tears admitting they both liked Logan and getting sushi afterwards. Of the three of them going to “Adam’s Bakery” after a sushi dinner, only to meet a cheerful and kind man named Patton, who dared them if he could stick fifteen marshmallows in his mouth, he could go on a date with them. Yeah uh, after six he almost started crying, but they had that date. “You seem deep in thought Virgil.” Logan said quietly, as to not alert the chattering of their boyfriends who were holding hands in front of them. “I’m fine. Just thinking about sushi.” He replied. “If you say so. If there’s something on your mind however, you can always come to me.” Virgil smiled softly and nodded. “Woo! Sushi!” Patton cheered as they arrived. “They better have Uni this time. They were all out last time we came!” Roma said. They were seated at their usual table and looked at their menus. Virgil was focused on his menu when he heard a slight squeal from what he assumed to be Patton. Virgil looked up to see a man proposing to a woman. The woman agreed and the whole dining room clapped. Virgil was going to look back at his menu but Roman’s face. He smiled wistfully. Like he wanted to be in the woman’s shoes, or the man’s. Virgil knew Roman would want to be both. Suddenly, a waiter blocked their view of the happy couple. “What would you boys like?” “Do you have Uni today?” Roman asked. “We do!” “Oh thank goodness!”

Virgil and Patton laughed. The writer wrote down Roman’s order. Of course, Logan ordered his usual Unagi roll, Patton decided to try an order of the Crunch rolls and Virgil ordered the Philadelphia rolls. The waiter left, now showing the couple were being all lovey dovey. “Aww. I’m so happy for them!” Patton said. “Indeed. I wish them well.” Roman agreed. “Let’s hope they don’t regret it in twenty years.” Logan added, then taking a sip of water. Virgil didn’t want to look. Their relationship was perfect the way it is. They didn’t need to get married. Fuck when did he get so sappy? He blamed Roman and Patton. Patton and Roman always led the conversations, Logan and Virgil putting their input every now and then. Soon they had their food, much to Roman’s delight. “Mmmm! This is what I’ve been craving all week.” Roman sighed in content. “God get a room.” Virgil teased.

Patton giggled at Roman’s unamused face. “Maybe I will!” “Roman don’t bring sushi into our bedroom. It will smell.” Logan said while dipping his roll in soy sauce. Dinner was nice. They finished rather quickly, which wasn’t a problem. That meant they had some daylight to enjoy the park. They paid for the check and went to the park. Patton and Roman rushed to the swings at the playground like children at recess. “Virgil push me!” Patton said. “Alright, alright.” Virgil said with a smile. Virgil pushed Patton, enjoying his laughs. “Logan push me!” Roman demanded. “No. You know how to swing.” “Coward!” “Oooooh!” Both Patton and Virgil found themselves saying. If there was any way for Roman to get Logan to do something ridiculous, it was to call him a coward. Logan’s face changed from neutral, to determined. Logan straightened up, went behind Roman, and PUSHED. Roman practically cackled in delight over how high Logan pushed him.

“Be careful boys!” Patton reminded. “We’re fine!” both Logan and Roman said. Virgil shook his head, smile on his face. His boyfriends were dorks, but they were his dorks. “You know, I’m really, REALLY happy for that couple back at the restaurant.” Patton said. “Yeah I guess.” Virgil replied. Virgil pushed Patton, watching him get higher and higher. “You alright Virge?” Patton asked, worry in his voice. Oh fuck, he said it loud enough for Roman and Logan to turn their heads and look their way. “Yeah I’m fine.” “Now that sounds like you’re not fine.” Roman said, not pushing, just an observation. “Roman.” Logan warned.

“I’m fine guys. Really.” Virgil reassured. Patton’s look on his face, ugh, Virgil’s chest felt weird. He looked worried but accepting. What had he done to deserve such amazing boyfriends? Maybe… No! It’s too soon. If he mentions it, their relationship would fall apart and be awkward. Heck Patton might cry. Roman and Logan would hate him for hurting Patton this way. Just keep it locked inside, away forever.

But, the look on his loves’ faces. The care, softness, understanding,

love

. They wouldn’t judge him for asking their thoughts on it. He could trust them. He could always trust them.

“Hey um, what are your thoughts on marriage, all of you?”

Virgil felt his heartbeat quicken and anxiety pool his gut. It was at this moment, he knew, he fucked up.

“Weddings are nice when it’s with people you love.” Patton said.

He’s not crying. In fact, he’s

glowing

. That’s a huge relief.

“They’re glorious displays of love, and how it conquers all,” Roman enthusiastically said “plus all the extravagant outfits, the dancing, the food, you get to share that with everyone you love!”

“Weddings are expensive and not completely necessary, but the idea is not necessarily one I will reject. As long as the people who are to be wed have a strong enough relationship it is fine.” Logan added.

Virgil felt like he could cry. His heart swelled at the words his loves. So, they didn’t hate the idea, and he wasn’t the only one! He wasn’t alone.

“Ok. Cool.”

“May I ask why you brought up this topic Virgil?” Logan asked, not pushing.

“Well uh, a couple months ago I visited my mom for advice.” Virgil nervously said.

“Oh! The advice about proposing!” Roman said.

Wait what?

Virgil’s head snapped up and looked at Roman. Roman rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Mama accidentally told me. When I visited her last month, she burst into tears at the sight of me. I was really worried!” he explained.

Suddenly they heard a sniffle. Virgil looked in front of him. Patton had gotten up and was looking at Virgil, tears falling from his face and a huge smile on his face.

“Oh Virgil!”

With that Patton hugged Virgil tightly. Virgil felt his own tears form. Suddenly there was a body hugging his side. It was Roman. His eyes sparkled with happiness and love as he hugged his two loves. Virgil turned his head and looked at Logan. Logan’s cheeks were flushed, and even his own eyes were slightly watery. He walked over and joined the hug.

“I couldn’t be happier to marry you three.” He admitted quietly.

Virgil found himself hiccuping. Then it turned into sobbing. A joyous sobbing. They wanted to be wed. They didn’t hate him and reject him. They were going to be husbands!

Everyone else at the park, they would be concerned. But in their little huddle, was only smiles, joyful tears, and unmeasurable love for one another. And this, was the perfect proposal.

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stevecanmakeanythingnerdy · 4 years ago

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Battle #26

The Vindictives: The Many Moods of... ( Side D )

Vs.

The Mary Jane Girls: Only Four You ( Side 1 )

The Vindictives: The Many Moods of... ( Side D )

The Vindictives are probably one of the best and most underrated of the 90s pop punk bands to call Chicago home. They began in 1990, after Joey’s first band, Vicktimz of Society called it quits. Their original lineup included Joey Vindictive (vocals), Johnny Personality (bass), Ben Weasel (of Screeching Weasel fame on guitar), Dr. Bob (guitar), and Erik Elsewhere (drums). The band would quickly experience lineup changes and evolve in complexity as well. The band would end up releasing 12 EPs and albums until July 1996, when Joey Vindictive revealed that his health issues would prevent the band from going on. The band DID continue past that but never at the capacity and intensity it had been previously. The distinction between The Vindictives and other pop punk bands of the same cloth is all in the lyrics. Often sexual or paranoia themes (sometimes both!) took center stage. And those amazing and layered harmonies!! No one did it better than The Vindictives. You got a real sense of the frantic-ness though in the music and the production was outstanding. Every song is catchy and holds your attention, making each song just a little different. Something pop punk is not often known for often, embracing the repetitiveness. So this “album” is really one of their only proper ones but it’s more or less a collection of all the aforementioned EPs. “Future Homemakers of America” Starts the party off right. Meaty and punchy with those dripping snotty vocals. Not perfect and that’s OK. It’s part of the energy, and a real slap across the face of suburbia stay at home housewives everywhere. “Spring Valley Shopping Mall” Tell the tale of what sounds like a really bad date. Literally a story in the form of a song. “1 (900) ILU-VYOU” is a dominatrix tune that features those amazing backing vocal harmonies. You could say they DOMINATE (#seewhatididthere) at it. Next up is “Basketcase”-a quickie punker rocket with driving and screaming leads. It’s better than Green Day’s version. Just kidding, totally different songs, but Green Day does serve as a good comparison for production value and tight melodies. Speaking of tight,

“You Know Who You Are” follows suit and punches you in the face. All while bitting and clawing your eyes out. Wound up like a spring and ready to pounce. As if it couldn’t get any faster, “Impatient” flies at you at breakneck speeds. Vindictives are not usually Minor Threat level fast, but skatepunks be damned, these guys mean business! Thrashing lashes to make you gnash your teeth. Probably one of the best songs on this side, and best examples of how the Vindictives stand out is found in “...And The World Isn’t Flat Anymore”. It’s very catchy and sing along style, but still manages to employ one the band’s favorite tricks, vocals in the round. Joey understands how to make one set bleed into the other and it sounds so amazing. More vocal layers than a 7 layer burrito! His raw and unabashed outlook give that darker edge the band uses to their advantage. Ironically these are probably some of the weaker tunes in their arsenal, so just imagine how awesome Sides A-C are! Brilliant!

The Mary Jane Girls: Only Four You ( Side 1 )

The Mary Jane Girls are an American R&B, soul and funk group that gained popularity in the 1980s. They were protégées of singer Rick James. Much like Prince had Shiela E and others, Rick James has his girls too. They are known for their hit songs "In My House", "All Night Long", "Candy Man", and their cover version of "Walk Like a Man". Joanne "Jojo" McDuffie was the lead singer, the others filling out the group's style and appearance. According to the wiki, on the studio recordings, McDuffie was backed by session vocalists rather than the other Mary Jane Girls. The album credits the other members as each singing at least one song though. The Mary Jane Girls released two albums in the 1980s and recorded a third which was shelved for decades but finally released in 2014. They were inducted into the Rhythm & Blues Music Hall of Fame in 2019. You can practically see the marketing plan-o-gram throughout, but you know what? The songs are fairly catchy. I like the 80s and even though it has distinct Motown and funk influence, there is a decent representation of new wave too. Rock actually wrote and produced all the songs too, so he had his hands all over it. Of course we should address the obvious. The name of the group referenced mary jane, slang for marijuana; a favored recreational drug of James. (James wrote a hit song titled "Mary Jane".) The group's image was styled as containing a street-wise girl (McDuffie), a supermodel (Ghant), a cheerleader/valley girl (Wells, then Marine), and a dominatrix (Wuletich). This is their second album and has the biggest hit, which starts off the whole thing. “In My House” has a VERY Rick James start with that keyboard intro, then drop the funky bass. These are 4 ladies that know the 80s. If disco were just watered down new wave, ala Lipps Inc., then I’d be ok with it. That’s pretty much what we have here. “Break it Up” is another funky dance club hit parade. Revolving Supremes-like vocals that keep your interest. The next 30 seconds are an interlude to the song “Shadow Lover” but they bothered to list it as a separate track, so...? It’s a saxophone meets piano warm up really, into the actual action. A slow bedroom jam that might make Luther Vandross jealous. The last track (only 4 you I guess #seewhatididthere ) is next. It’s called “Lonely for You” and the play on the album title is not lost on me. This one is back to the rockin’ beats. Mellow and melody. The underlying keyboard is fantastic on this cut. It’s a new wave version of En Vogue or a disco version on The Supremes. Either way, nice. I hope they didn’t have to do anything freaky to get their deal...(#seewhatididthere)

So today we saw the many moods of The Vindictives in full regalia. They took 16 minutes to burn 101 calories over 7 songs. That is 14.43 calories burned per song and 6.31 calories burned per minute. The Vindictives earned 18 out of 21 possible stars. The Mary Jane Girls did it only four you. They took 19 minutes to burn 116 calories over 4 songs. That’s an average of 29.p calories burned per song and 6.11 calories burned per minute. The MJG earned 8 out of 12 possible stars. Looks like The Vindictives will be in a haploid because they won today’s challenge!

The Vindictives : “You Know Who You Are”

https://youtu.be/RpT7OGsUzWo

#Randomrecordworkoutseasonseven

#Randomrecordworkout

#randomrecordworkout #randomrecordworkoutseason7 #vinyl #records #80s #80s music #punk #90s music #90s #rick james #mary jane girls #the vindictives #chicago punk

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meetophelia · 4 years ago

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My love-hate relationship with Normal People

When I first saw the advert for the screen adaptation of Sally Rooney’s Normal People, I was thrilled to see that two up-and-coming actors had been cast in the lead roles. I recognised Daisy Edgar-Jones from Cold Feet and a NYT production of Blue Stockings I saw a few years ago, and I had high hopes for Paul Mescal who, aside from being Quite Nice Looking, seemed like he could be a new one to watch.

I binged the entire series in about two days. I loved it. I wrote tweets proclaiming how ‘raw, honest, romantic, and excruciatingly heartbreaking’ it was. Both Paul and Daisy are screen acting naturals: their performances are expertly subtle, (almost) devoid of cliché. You’ve probably heard that an intimacy coordinator was employed to assist with choreographing the sex scenes and my god, does it pay off. I have since read and re-read the novel in an attempt to keep Connell and Marianne in my life for a little longer.

The series practically exploded into the public eye, receiving high praise from the land of millennials and Gen Zs. But, believe it or not, some people really did hate it. And if I’m being completely honest, I can kind of see why.

We’ve seen characters like Connell and Marianne and their on-and-off story arc before. Numerous times. They are the classic white, cishet teenage sweethearts who are at opposite ends of the high school hierarchy and so can’t tell anyone that they’re sleeping together. Of course, their peers find out faster than Connell can wash his bed sheets, but the social codes of teenagerdom are absolute.

After they’ve taken their final exams and broken each other’s hearts at least twice, a long, painfully slow continuation of their struggle to stay in, and out, of each other’s lives begins. We follow them from Sligo to Dublin, Italy, Sweden, and back to Sligo again, as they attempt to navigate their new social roles at university and beyond.

This heteronormative narrative is so boring sometimes. I often find myself gasping for even a hint of queerness in television dramas involving young romance, particularly ones broadcast by the BBC (having said that, a show which does satisfy my needs is I May Destroy You - highly, highly recommend). And, although we absolutely LOVE to see Irish creatives thrive, Normal People is about as undiverse as it gets. ‘Perhaps that wasn’t the point’ I hear you cry, and to that I say, does it need to be?

But alas, I cannot deny that the series consumed me completely. The characters are complex, misunderstood, and extremely frustrating; I saw aspects of myself in almost every single one (yes, even Jamie, the prick). I was a mess throughout episode ten, where Connell begins to seek help for his severe depression, and I felt Marianne’s numb, helpless anguish over her broken family solidify within me during episode eleven.

Both Marianne and Connell have their obvious flaws, and I personally don’t believe that their relationship should be glorified, but that just adds to what makes them so damn relatable. I’ll admit that not a lot actually happens; Marianne in particular spends a lot of time laying in the garden staring at grass. But I like being reminded that fictional characters can also be dull, indecisive, and chronically disappointed. They are meant to be normal people after all (I give you full permission to hate me for that).

So, I resolve to keep Normal People at the top of my list for now. Sure, we might have seen enough white young adults have loads of sex and fail to communicate properly on our screens over the years, but I’ll let Connell and Marianne have this one. Is that what a ‘normal’ person would do? Who the heck knows.

Beth Greenwood (she/her) is a writer, performer, and the founder of OPHELIA. When she’s not waffling on about popular culture, she works as a drama teaching assistant and eats peanut butter straight from the jar.

#review #ophelia #reviews

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kayleighdoes-art · 5 years ago

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Hey, i wanted to upload something i should’ve posted when i wrote it.

I will, if you want to call it this, document the /exact/ trauma I experienced thanks to my mother.

Mayor trigger warnings for (emotional abuse)(anything that comes with manipulation and stuff)

My mother was a very nice lady. At least I think she was. I wanted to be like her. Wanted to be her.

When I was four, I got a baby sister. I didn’t want a sister, but alas, they said it would be fun. /as you probably expected, it wasn’t fun at all. It was a nightmare/

When I was 11/12 years old, my parents got married. That’s when the fights started between them.

I don’t know what it was, but something always struck me when it wasn’t right. It was the most literal gut feeling I’ll ever experience.

My mother used to tell me and my sister bedtime stories. It’s a normal thing to do as a parent, I suppose. But when she was done, she would sit for HOURS with me or my sister, telling different kinds of stories. Stories about how she was convinced my dad would hurt us, would hurt her.

When I was around 13, we moved. We moved to another city and I had to go to a new school and a new class at the end of the school year. I had trouble fitting in, seeing as I was overweight.

That didn’t go completely without the usual stress, but there were still fights.

This went on for 5 years!!!!

So when 2016 rolled around, I was going to turn 14. My birthday was fun. Lots of friends came to visit me, I had a fun day, the party I held was pretty good and life seemed to be okay. But that clenching gut feeling was always there.

Turns out my parents got into another argument. We didn’t celebrate my moms birthday, which is (at the time of writing this) exactly 2 years ago.

My sisters birthday went as usual, and the holidays came.

We had invited two family friends, one woman that was a good friend of my parents and her son. The son, at the time 21, was a pretty nice guy to hang around. I even had a crush on him for like 2 weeks.

They got into a fight with the woman and I never saw her again.

My mom was still whispering those wicked things to my sister. I had made very clear from the beginning that we moved, I wanted NO ONE in my room. This was mostly because I was a moody teenager (still kinda am, just different problems.).

I was also selfharming at the time, mostly because stress was taking its toll on me. I couldn’t handle their fighting and all the stress and anger school gave me, so I sought an outlet. I stopped 6 months later, seeing how it didn’t solve anything at all.

2017 comes into view, with New Years. Supposed to be fun right? Nope. It wasn’t. At all.

My parents had another fight over something I can’t even remember. It was, besides the noise anything made at all, dead silent.

My sister was in the kitchen, so was my mom. My dad was in the living room. I was locked in my room, making art and listening to Homestuck songs (I didn’t know Homestuck at the time so what even was the point?)

I came down stairs after like 12 AM, to wish my dad and sister a happy New Year and to get some more food.

(Around this same time, my phone died. I revived it and it still works like it’s supposed to)

I left out a very important person. I don’t want to sound like a sappy, romcom devouring bitch, but he was amazing. I have to give him credit for so much because he helped me stay on earth, and not in whatever kind of fantasy realm I was in at the time.

He was more than a best friend at times, but we didn’t last that long. The online messaging wasn’t working out at all. I still wish him a happy birthday when it rolls around but that’s it.

When may of 2017 came around, I was ecstatic. I had just gotten my new drawing tablet and I was ready to make even more art. But my mom is a jealous woman. She couldn’t stand that I was advancing at a faster speed than she was. So she started to give me more and more chores to endure. I barely had any time left to do anything else.

My sister had luck with this. Because as long as my mother was occupied with me, she would be safe. She wouldn’t have to endure hours upon hours of her lectures.

In June of 2017, my mom left my family. And I’m so glad she did. She was so manipulative, she made my sister fear my dad. And my dad is the best parent I could wish for.

But how about the now? Because as I said, the woman I call mother, has been gone for more than a year.

She still comes to us. She begs us for money. Threatens my sister and I. Tried to make our lives as horrible as possible.

She hasn’t been here for 2 months now. It’s good.

I have help for all the trauma I have, I get help making friends because I’m socially anxious. I’m losing weight (otherwise this blog wouldn’t be completely right.).

I’m telling this to say that, even though there are people enough out there that have evidence, women and especially mothers can also abuse children. That the father isn’t always the bad guy. I want to tell my story because there are still people trying to make fun of me and my trauma because ‘it can’t be that bad you’re only 16!’

-written at the first of October 2018, while being heavily sleep deprived.-

#TW: abuse

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fox-and-benedict · 6 years ago

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[Fanfic, 100% Orange Juice] The Fanservice Episode, Frankly

Series: 100% OJ / Suguri Words: 3855 Characters: Suguri, Hime, Kae, Nanako Originally posted: February 27, 2017 (blogspot version) A/N: I remember being proud of this when I wrote it; I’m usually better at short stuff, to the extent that longer chapters sap my energy a lot. (A little better at it nowadays, I guess...) Of course, nobody read it. I took the title from a Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid episode. Somewhat risque, and with a hurried ending.

Suguri was not, particularly, a fan of the ocean. The raw power of her body was enough to dissuade concerns about breathing, and even the thousands of atmospheres worth of pressure to a certain extent, but she was all too aware that in the Great War, humanity had been rather more focused on how to litter the sea with mines than with how to get them back out again. Even with her abilities, clean up had been a long, dangerous process, and more still might be lurking in the dark, unknown pockets of the deep. There was no way to know. As a result, she wasn't quite as enthused by the idea of a summer beach trip as Hime had been. There were upsides, of course. The sea breeze was one of Suguri's favourite things; part of her believed that she had been a seagull in her past life. She was also partial to the building and subsequent destruction of elaborate sandcastles, to symbolise the artifices of man returning to the bosom of the ocean. There was, however, an additional factor in Suguri's decision to attend the beach day, although she had every intention of denying it when it inevitably came up. A week prior she had spotted Hime sneaking into the house in the earlier hours, armed with a two-piece bikini that was a shade below scandalous but still firmly in the daring category. She hadn't been able to get a good look at it, but she was fairly sure it was frilly, and a Hime with frills was relevant to her interests to say the least. Also relevant to Suguri's interests, in no particular order, were: Hime running barefoot along the sands and giggling; Hime standing waist-deep in the ocean with sunlit golden hair and her beautiful wings reflected against the rolling waves; and hitting watermelons with sticks. (Some pleasures were too simple to be denied). Upon reaching the beach, the pair had retired to the changing rooms, and Suguri had shrugged on her own swimsuit. It wasn't too flattering, although it wasn't as though she had much to flatter; Suguri was built for speed, with lean, defined muscles in her shoulders and her back. Her long hair did, however, mean she could get away with a halter top without anybody staring too much, and all she needed after that was a pair of shorts. Shorts, mercifully, were easy to shop for; usually, shopping for swimwear ranked at number six in the top ten list of Suguri's Biggest Waking Nightmares. She just had very defined tastes, and nobody seemed to appreciate grey swimsuits with a single stripe on them as much as she did. Having changed much faster than Hime (as usual), Suguri looked out at the fine, pale sands and resolved that before the day was over, she would achieve her life's ambition of making a sand castle that she could fit inside. But the day was long, and she was fast; there would be time for castle-building later. Now was the time of garishly striped towels and beach umbrellas that consistently threatened to fall over, and she wasted no time in installing hers in the middle of the beach. By the time the others arrived, Suguri had already acquired flip flops, novelty sunglasses and the beginnings of a tan, and was busy lying face down on her beach towel like a fried egg with a grey, fluffy yolk. “Hey, shortie. You didn't bring your luggage with you?” Suguri tilted her head upwards and saw Nanako, who was hefting a beach bag almost as big as she was. As always, she seemed a touch bitter; Suguri sometimes had problems getting along with her, although Hime was of the opinion that Nana just enjoyed grousing as a way to vent stress, “Ah, you've arrived. If by 'luggage' you meant Hime, she's still changing,” Suguri replied peacefully, looking Nana up and down. The diminutive soldier had gone for a violet one-piece that was more cute than it was dignified, although Suguri guessed that there weren't that many alluring outfits available for somebody of Nanako's size. Some impish part of her decided to push that button a little. “...I was sure you'd be wearing a school swimsuit, though.” “I don't care what you idiots say. I'm not in ninth grade! I am a professional soldier with a number of completed campaigns –” “And a record of losing to me in sword fights.” “– and a record of losing to you in sword fights because you cheat by having such long arms –” “I can't control how long my arms are.” “I can't control how tall I am! I looked everywhere for a nice, mature-looking swimsuit but I got landed with this frilly, cutesy mess while Kae, Kae looks like she's trying to dam the Victoria Falls with a picket fence, just spilling out everywhere and argh!” Nanako threw herself on the sand in frustration, before rolling over and affixing Suguri with a dangerous, steely glare. “You and me, we should form an alliance. Did you know that being short used to make you a sex symbol? It's true! I dug out some old music from before that stupid war you guys had, and all they ever sing about is shorties. 'Shortie, you so hot! Shortie, get low! Shortie got me spending the benjamins!' All stuff like that. We could rule together.” Suguri arranged her face into a peaceful, innocent smile. “I'll form an alliance with you. But you have to accept me as the leader.” “...What would your first order be?” Nanako asked, eyes narrowing. “To go and explain to Kae why, in detail, you've been staring at her chest for long enough to construct similes about it.” “Tch. No dice,” the girl said, and rolled over to face the other way. “I hate arguing with you. It always makes me so tired. I just wanna sit down and relax afterwards.” Suguri sighed, and very gently patted Nanako on the head, expecting her to jerk her head away at any moment. Her hair was surprisingly soft and healthy; evidently she took good care of it. “...Your swimsuit doesn't look awful. Tell me where you got it next time,” Nana said after a while. “Yes, yes.” Perhaps, in an alternative world, the moment would have continued. The sounds of the waves against the shores, of seagulls chattering overhead, would have lulled Nanako into an easy sleep. She would have awoken hours later, sunburnt on the side of her that was peeking out from Suguri's lopsided beach umbrella, and her absolute incandescent rage would have been mollified by memories of Suguri gently fussing with her hair. Alas, this would have had to been an alternative world where Kae did not exist and was not the greatest source of noise on the beach. She charged along, a beach umbrella under one arm, kicking up a stream of flying sand with her footsteps, yelling at the top of her voice – and the top of her voice was taller than some mountains. Suguri took a glance in her direction and immediately regretted it; Nanako had not been joking when she talked about spillage. She looked just long enough to feel vaguely jealous before turning away, which was just as well, because the next thing Kae did was launch herself through the air in a beautiful parabolic arc toward their location. She hit with the force of a small explosive, planting her beach umbrella into the ground like a sword and distributing a fine layer of sand over the face and body of every person in a 100 metre radius. “Safe!” the redhead yelled, flashing a peace signal to her two friends. Suguri, drawing on over 10,000 years of life experience, had wisely made the decision to close her eyes and mouth. Nanako had not, and was in the delicate process of trying to make death threats while excavating roughly a tenth of the beach from her lungs. She was having little success with either, but this made no difference to Kae, who had already thrown herself at Suguri for a full-body hug. After a relatively minor but confusing scuffle, they came to a rest with Kae's warm cheek pressed gently against Suguri's navel. “Ahahahaha! It's been so long since I saw you, Sugi! What are you doing lying around? You should be playing volleyball! Summer is all about friendly competition!” Suguri had come to two conclusions, neither of which was about volleyball. The first was that Kae was part puppy, and had to express that by nuzzling people to death. The second was that Kae's swimsuit had more in common with a coat of paint on a car than with an actual piece of fabric designed for human beings. Bravely extricating herself from Kae's embrace, Suguri put on her responsible adult voice. “Ah... I think if we played volleyball, one of us would have a malfunction.” Kae gave a thumbs up. She often gestured as she spoke, with enough ferocity to put any angry waiter to shame. “Don't worry, don't worry! This body was built to last!” “I'll play volleyball with you, Kae,” Nanako seethed, her eyes flashing pure murderous intent. “But I get to use my bits as well, since you're so tall, and, and, buxom. And if I win, you have to be quiet for one hour for every point I won by.” “Uuuu... That doesn't seem fair. But I don't ever see Nana this fired up. What to do...? Aha! I know! If I win, I get to dress Nana up however I want for the rest of the day!” Both girls looked at Suguri, who sighed and nodded. “Alright. I've witnessed the conditions of the bet. Play fair, you two. Or mostly fair, anyway.” Almost before she had finished speaking the two were away, trading verbal jabs and actual lasers with impunity. Suguri watched them become dots in the sky, and wondered how exactly they intended to play volleyball without a net. It didn't matter, she supposed; Nanako was spoiling for a fight more than anything, and Kae would be more than willing to give her one. “Oh, my. Are those two at it already? I don't know if they get along badly or a bit too well,” a voice remarked from behind Suguri's shoulder. It was warm, cheerful, as clear as song. Hime. “I'm also disappointed in you, Suguri. I look away for mere moments and another woman has captured your belly-button for herself.” Suguri tilted her head back to take a long, upside-down look at Hime and her swimsuit. There were ruffles. There was a black and gold high neck bikini top and a black sarong cut just low enough to show the delicate lines leading down from the hips. There was a dry smile on Hime's face which probably meant Suguri was being a little too obvious. “Aha. Well, you were changing for quite a while,” she said, clearing her throat. “True enough. No matter. I shall just have to win back your heart with delicious ice cream,” Hime replied, leaning down to hand Suguri a scoop. Had she been carrying ice cream cones, Suguri wondered? Her eyes had definitely been elsewhere. “It's a shame that Saki, Iru and Kyoko couldn't make it.” “Mm,” Suguri nodded. Especially since those three were generally much less erratic than Nanako and Kae were. “Well, I was more worried about Nana and Kae in the first place. The others have spread out a little and started to explore, but I don't think those two have found what they really want from this planet yet...” Suguri frowned. This was one of those moments that seemed to demand a sensitive, emotional response, and she didn't have one ready. The words always seemed to elude her, as surely as she eluded bullets and lasers. “We can take care of them for a while longer,” she replied. It wasn't quite the response she had wanted to give, but it was the one she had to settle for. “I suppose I should stop being a mother hen. Speaking of, are you wearing sunscreen?” “Was that why you took so long changing? You were putting on sunscreen?” “Very good! Gold star for Suguri,” Hime said with a grin, and sat down beside her on the sand. “My skin is so pale from being in the spaceship all those years that I have to be careful with it. You didn't answer my question, though.” “I don't really need it. My skin never tans or burns. And I have no intention of leaving this umbrella, anyway.” “Oh, that's ridiculous. I'm sure you'll want to play in the sun at some point. Here, roll over and I'll do your back for you,” Hime said, with an expression of perfect innocence that guaranteed she was up to something. “Don't worry. I can do it myself.” “Oh my, how impressive. How flexible and dexterous you must be!” Hime replied, with a gleam in her eye. “Incidentally, how good are you at rope escape?” Suguri sighed. The answer, of course, was 'not good enough to get out of Binding Chains'. She grunted and rolled over in deference to Hime's passionate advocacy of responsible skincare. With a satisfied giggle, Hime scooted across and sat on her. “Hime? You're sitting on my butt.” “Yes, I'm quite aware.” “Is there any reason?” “You sit on it all the time. It seemed the obvious place.” The logic was flawless, and Suguri couldn't refute it. Instead, she just closed her eyes and appreciated the breeze rolling in from the sea. Hime, meanwhile, busied herself with scooping up armfuls of long, silver hair and moving it away from Suguri's back. “Ooh. Nice definition,” Hime murmured as she began to work damp fingertips around the muscles of Suguri's shoulders. Suguri said nothing, and was trying very hard to think nothing as well; for all her efforts to approximate a plank of wood, she wasn't having much luck. She tried closing her eyes and allowing the sound of the waves to fill her mind. “Hey.” Suguri was surprised to hear her own voice. She hadn't particularly planned to say anything. “Mm?” “Why is this so important to you?” Hime tilted her head a little in thought, but her hands continued to insinuate themselves against Suguri's muscles like the ocean licking at the sands. “Oh, well. A few reasons. It's part of the beach experience, I suppose, to rub sunscreen on somebody's back. Spaceships, in general, are not equipped with beach facilities, and water is a precious resource. We never got sun tans. We never wore swimsuits. Hm... How do I put it? For you, Suguri, this might not be a special occasion, but for me, and for Kae and Nanako as well, it has the taste of a kind of life we were never allowed by circumstance to lead.” “I see.” The sound of the waves seemed to blend with the words and give them a strange, mystical texture. Hime's hands crept down the plains of her back and then returned to her shoulders, in a long, sinuous pattern. “Another reason is that you've been so patient with us, Suguri, and with me in particular. To have had you here to welcome us to this strange, wide-open world has meant more than I can say. Sometimes I just want to spoil you a little in return. This doesn't feel bad, right?” The only response Suguri could conjure was a non-committal but vaguely embarrassed little sound from the back of her throat; Hime met it with a sparkling laugh. “Of course, that's a third reason. You're quite fun to tease, Suguri. You're so very serious all the time, and you always try not to react but do anyway.” “And is that why you tease me so much?” Hime took a moment to to coat her hands with a little more lotion. “Would you prefer a short and fun answer, or a long and serious one?” “Well,” Suguri replied dryly, “Since I'm such a serious person, I'll take the serious answer.” “I thought as much.” Hime's hands had drifted as low as Suguri's waist; her movements were slower, lingering, and her words matched. “I've lived for ten thousand years, Suguri. You know how long that is. But for the vast majority of that time, I've lived in the same, tiny place. The same days, the same faces, endlessly repeating. Oh, Suguri. I used to look at those travellers who we brought to Earth, and I could take apart their faces and say what belonged to their great, great grandfathers, where the family trees had crossed, that kind of thing. In a restricted pool like that, there are only so many genes you can have, you know? Only so many faces, so many combinations.” Suguri said nothing. If there was one thing she was good at, it was that. “Well, at any rate, if you live for too long like that, time starts to... blend together, just a touch. More than a touch. For a long, long while, it felt like I was living the same day over and over. Like time had stopped, for me. Just for me. But then we saw Earth on our horizons, with that horrible man at the helm. The only reason I didn't stop him earlier was because I assumed he would die of old age before he got the chance to do any real damage, but... Anyway. Things started moving again. Now every day is different. There are so many people to meet, with so many faces I've never seen or dreamt of before. This world, this Earth of yours, is constantly spinning. In motion. I feel like that's so important.” “It's your Earth, too. Mm. That feels nice.” Hime was tracing circles with her thumbs across the edges of Suguri's hips; she gave a satisfied little sigh and applied herself to the task with more gusto. “I suppose it is, at that. But, Suguri. Sometimes when I look at you, I feel... I feel like your time stopped somewhere on the way, too. Some days you wake up, and you wear the same face all day. It's... Well, I don't think it's good to do that. And anyway, I'm childish and selfish. I want to see all the different faces you can make, Suguri, not just the one you use all the time. That's why I tease you from time to time. To stop the moments from blending. I'm hoping that one day, I won't even have to tease you; you'll just wake up and smile, and blush, and laugh by yourself instead of keeping that same face.” “And what will you do then?” Suguri asked. Her voice was sleepy. Her body was sleepy. She felt like she was talking in a dream. “Well... I'll probably keep teasing you. But perhaps I won't be joking about it. Your back is done, by the way,” Hime replied, and stood up. “Of course, I could always do your front for you, if you'd like.” Suguri didn't need to look to know that Hime was wearing a devious grin. But she stood up and looked anyway. After all the talk of keeping the same face, she realised that perhaps she hadn't been paying enough attention to Hime's. “If I said yes, would you do it?” Hime blinked, and for a moment a flash of colour spread into her pale cheeks; but it was just for a moment. “You could always take your chances and find out.” “I'll pass.” “Oh, boo. It's rude to raise a lady's hopes and then dash them.” Suguri found, as she had always found, that there were moments in life when it was necessary to trust one's body over one's brain. Decisions could not always be taken with a full set of information on which to base rationale, and anyway, there were sometimes sensations that the brain filtered out of conscious experience but still registered on a smaller level, and those could be as indicative of oncoming danger as any larger portents. She couldn't quite tell what prompted her to move as she did, but in that moment she was absolutely sure that the correct course of action was to launch herself towards Hime, scoop up her friend in her arms, and clear the next six feet of ground as soon as possible. She had cleared the first three feet when Kae and Nanako barrelled out of an empty sky at a speed that beggared belief and crashed into the beach, sending a plume of sand skyward. “One, two, three, four, I win the THUUUMB WAAAAAR!” Kae howled, lifting Nanako into the air by one arm like a referee lifting a boxer's arm in victory. “Hey, hey, Big Sis Hime! Do you think Nana would look better as a punk rocker, or with cat ears?” “Go with whatever your heart tells you, Kae,” Hime said indulgently. “But remember: when it comes to cat ears, proper etiquette demands a tail as well.” Nana, although her eyes were more inclined to look in different directions to one another in that moment in time, still had the wherewithal to look at Hime lounging in Suguri's arms and ask, in a very groggy voice, “Am we... Was I... Is we... Inter'pting somethink?” “Oh, nothing that we can't continue later,” Hime said with a wink, climbing down. “She means 'no, nothing',” Suguri deadpanned. “I don't suppose you two would like to put the beach back where it belongs?” “Nope!” Kae said proudly, conspicuously not looking at giant crater she had left. Suguri sighed. “I suppose we'll pick a different beach next year. It's about time to split the watermelon. Would you go and fetch it?” Kae had vanished before the sentence was finished. Hitting things with sticks was very much a Kae thing, and she dragged Nanako along in her wake. Suguri didn't expect her to come back with one watermelon; rather, she expected to see her juggling three. As the two departed, Hime gave Suguri a nudge. “Next year, hm? I don't recall discussing a second trip.” “Well, it hasn't been a bad day. I want to make a sandcastle next time.” “Oh, yes. There's still things the beach has to offer us. I was planning to bury you up to your neck in the sand and then poke your cheeks.” “...Don't make me change my mind.” A year, Suguri thought, had always been such a short time. That was the problem. Time didn't freeze, as Hime said; it just went faster and faster while you weren't looking, and for all her speed Suguri had never been able to catch up with it. You blinked, and the Earth had come to the same spot again, and all that had changed was the year. But here, today, she blinked: the Earth remained where it was, and the year was the same, but her friends were wearing different expressions. It hadn't been a bad day, here at the beach. It hadn't been a bad day at all.

#fanfic #100% orange juice #suguri #hime #kae #nanako #innuendo #beach #Suguri (series)

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eddebrock · 7 years ago

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Third Year’s A Charm

Happy Valentine’s Day @that4amkick !! I was your giftee for the @itfandomsecretadmirers so I wrote you a little stenbrough drabble. Hope you enjoy and had a great day !!

Word Count: 2293

Pairing: Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris

Summary: For three years, Bill Denbrough has been struggling to contain his growing affections toward his coworker and fellow student Stanley Uris. As Valentine’s Day grows closer, an idea sparks in his mind.

Credits: Big thanks to Maxy ( @50szoomer ) for the initial prompt, I went a little off rail but it certainly helped me get started !! 💛

For three years, Bill Denbrough has worked tirelessly at the local bookstore not far from campus. It’s enjoyable to say the least, he has always been a sucker for literature and often stays after hours (when he isn’t too busy with homework and studying) and sits at one of the lounge chairs, picking up on a novel.

A lot of his coworkers are also students at his college, he guesses that it’s because of the conviennent location and decent pay. Bill has managed to become pretty close friends with a lot of them since the majority share similar interests. There is one though that he has yet to manage to make of acquaintance much to Bill’s disappointment.

Stanley Uris, or ‘Stan’ as he more commonly went by, had always been a bit rough around the edges. Bill knew this since the minute the boy walked into a lecture they shared, already criticizing the professor on the assignment from the week before. Even so, Bill found himself with growing affections for him, feelings that he was desperately trying to pursue, but no response was coming from the other end. It was as if Bill hit a dead end and was scramming to find a way forward, but alas, was having no such luck.

Letting a sigh escape his lips, Bill glanced around to make sure there weren’t any customers nearby, when his analysis came with no results, he was free to lay his head on the counter of the cash register- sighing once more as Bill brought his arms up in front of his resting face. He found these feelings for his peer to be quite tiresome and Bill just hadn’t mastered controlling them on any level.

The other day, Stan was preparing to bring his shift to an end, restlessly checking the overhead clock every so often from where he was organizing a new shipment of paperbacks on a shelf in the young adult fantasy section. At the time, there had been no line at the cash register, seeing as the shop was relatively empty due to the late hour, so Bill took a deep breath, searching for courage, and sauntered over to his employee.

The idea had been to casually ask Stan out to dinner, maybe not specify that it was a date, but at the very least bring it up as a casual meeting to get to know each other.

Long story short, that shipment of paperbacks previously mentioned? The majority didn’t reach the shelf, instead they took a detour to the floor as well as Bill’s torso that laid on the ground after taking a disastrous fall. He had been leaning on of the the boxes, ‘playing it cool’ as he remembered his roommate Mike suggest- not showing the large about of nerves pilling up inside. He took ‘playing it cool’ probably a little too far to the point that Bill was pretty much using the unsturdy box as a support beam to hold himself up as his legs went weak at the attempt of talking to Stan. Said ‘unsturdy box’ tipped over and took a fall, spilling its contents over the floor and taking Bill with it.

No, Bill did not take Stan out for dinner that night, far from it actually, but he counts it as progress- Stan talked to him. Sure, it may have been in the form of unfriendly scolding ending with him storming away, leaving Bill to clean up the mess, but hey, words are words and that was enough for those butterflies to begin fluttering up Bill’s lungs- taking his breath away as the annoyed brunette exited the store with a final huff.

Bill Denbrough has dug himself in a hole and it’s with no doubt that he is utterly fucked.

Returning from his memory of the other day, Bill lifts his head back up, noticing the small display of Valentine’s Day gifts they had on display in the front of the store. He thought for a moment, studying the display as an idea popped to mind.

Would he really be tempted to buy on in hopes of giving it to Stan?

The answer is yes. Of course he would because he is Bill Denbrough and corny gifts is his middle name! Maybe if he’s smart enough, he could manage to pull off one of those ‘secret admirer’ stunts and leave the revelation to the big day, February 14th. It wasn’t a horrible plan, no it was actually quite appealing. It would give Bill time to gather himself to come off as more composed when confronting Stan.

Luckily, Stan did not have a shift today so when Bill left his position to grab a nicely decorated heart-shaped greeting card, he didn’t have to worry about the misfortune of being spotted. The card was simple, blank on the inside to provide more room for Bill to write something down- maybe a poem?

As the sunlight began to fade as seen from the windows, Bill prepared to close up shop, not forgetting to ring himself up to pay for the card. Gathering his hoodie that had been placed under the counter, he began to walk out the door, muttering ideas for what to write in the card (he already decided to ask Stan’s roommate, Richie, to set the card on the latter’s desk).

‘Always admiring you from afar, never knowing if erasure of space is possible,’ is what Bill settled for later that night, signing off with ‘-Secret Admirer’. It was simple and a decent start, that was certain, but he smiled as his eyes traced back on the words.

This carried on for the next four days with Richie feeding Bill information on Stan’s reaction to each little gift. Following the card on Friday were two roses on Saturday, one being lavender and the other was pink- colors that Bill chose after studying up on each different color (Richie had stated that Stan especially liked this gift and that he said it was endearing that ‘the secret admirer’ added a little note with the meanings of each color-

‘Lavender roses often represent the concept of love at first sight, they also can be taken as a daily reminder of love and eagerness to form or grow a relationship.

Pink roses express admiration as well as sweetness & joy.

-Secret Admirer’).

However, it was Wednesday morning now and as Bill slowly drank his coffee, eyeing the words forming on the page of a book he had just started the night before, he was filled with anxiousness. Yes, this whole secret admirer thing had been fun, but now this was real. It was February 14th- Valentine’s Day. The day he was supposed to confess to Stan with no persona to cover himself.

Bill was bound to be rejected, sure Stan appreciated his gifts but did he actually like Bill? There was no chance! If anything he probably hates the latter. All of this was most likely a mistake to begin with, Bill worked himself up all for heartbreak.

His coffee was growing cold by now. His book long forgotten. Bill stood from the stool he had claimed in the lounge area of the dorms, throwing his cup away then walking out- book in hand. Either way, he still had to go to work, but he couldn’t shake off his previous thoughts no matter how hard he tried. Bill didn’t have a gift this time, just himself. Would that be enough?

Arriving at the bookstore, which had already been open three hours earlier than his shift, Bill takes a deep breath. He quickly spots Stan working at the counter and greeting customers.

They have the whole day ahead of them, Bill checked the schedule last night and saw they both ended their shifts at seven, and it was 12:30 now.

Seven o’clock came faster than Bill hoped. In a blink of an eye 6:30 came and passed. He finds them in much of a similar situation as they had been the day he tipped over the box. With Stan stacking books, and Bill at the cash register.

Minutes pass and Stan looks to be heading out, Bill checks the clock and sure enough it’s 7 on the dot. Before anyone can go anywhere, Bill speaks up.

“H-h-hey! S-Stan wait uh-up!” Bill shouts mildly, hurrying towards the front door to meet the brunette who quickly meets his gaze, “H-hap-happy Valentine’s D-Day!”

Bill can’t decipher whether it’s confusion or annoyance that forms on his coworker’s face as he responds with the same ‘happy Valentine’s Day’. Bill doesn’t know what he expected, it’s not like Stan could figure it out on his own that he was his secret admirer, so he finds himself at a loss for words, this moment hasn’t been planned out like the gifts- no, it was on the spot with no prompt.

“I, uh, w-well i-it’s not easy t-t-to explain t-this but, w-well I just thought, y-you know since it’s V-Valentine’s Day, that, uh, m-maybe,” this time, Bill definitely recognizes that it’s confusion on Stan’s face, and he doesn’t blame him, “Well w-what I’m trying to s-say is that I-I’m,” the words just aren’t forming. Bill isn’t registering his train of thought. He closes his eyes, sighs, and clears his throat, “I’m t-the one who’s been leaving you t-the gifts. I’m y-your secret admirer,” silence, “Surprise,” he adds, almost as a sarcastic afterthought.

Out of all the scenarios that Bill played out in his mind of Stan’s reaction, he never once thought his line-lipped coworker would laugh. It leaves Bill standing awkwardly, not knowing if this is a good or bad sign.

After a minute or so, Stan manages to calm himself down, wiping his eyes that had picked up some moisture during his amusement, “I’m sorry, that was rude of me- it’s just,” a chuckle, “Richie is absolutely terrible at keeping a secret- which is probably for the best or else I would’ve thought it was him who left the gifts!” Stan grins, meeting Bill’s (now confused) gaze once more, “I probably should’ve mentioned this sooner, I mean, I’ve known it was you since Saturday, thank you by the way, you didn’t have to, but all of those gifts were really sweet.”

Three years. Three years of working tirelessly. Three years of admiring from afar. Three years of unreturned glances. Three years and Bill Denbrough has never had a civil conversation with Stanley Uris that didn’t seem passive aggressive if you read between the lines. Three years- and it only took less than two days for Richie Tozier to break and spill the details of Bill’s hopeless crush.

“I’m going to f-f-fucking kill him,” Bill decided aloud, eyes drifting to nothing in particular. Stan laughs, again, it’s a wonderful sound. Bill also decides that he’d trade music any day for a soundtrack of Stan’s laughter. Not the bitter kind, but the genuine one that he thinks he’s hearing right now.

“Join the line, some of us have been waiting since elementary school.”

Bill could have continued the light-hearted conversation. He could have stuck with that and would be content. But this was sidetracked, and Bill had a question- no, a thought to spill. “We can forget t-this happened. W-we could just b-be friends, I’d b-be okay with t-that. I k-know you probably d-don’t feel the same way- f-feel a-about me the w-way I f-feel about you.”

“And what if I did feel the same?”

It’s a simple question. A bit vague, and it could have a underlying meaning, but simple nonetheless. Either way, it makes Bill stop in his tracks, stumbling his breathing pattern for a second.

“B-but you don’t.”

“But what if I did.”

It’s reaching, but Bill is hoping he is understanding the context that this conversation has swerved to. He thinks about his words, and what they are suggesting. “T-t-then I’d t-take you out for dinner.”

“Sounds like you just got yourself a date, Denbrough.”

A minute. A minute passes and Bill is speechless, he mutters out a series of confused exclamations until he can finally muster, “I d-don’t think I understand.”

Stan smiles, and for a few seconds he doesn’t say anything. It’s like a staring contest has begun between the two of them until he finds his voice, “Well you said if I had feelings for you, as you do for me, then you’d take me out for dinner. So, therefore, I believe Bill Denbrough, if I’m not mistaken, you owe me a dinner date.”

Of course, in reply, Bill ends up shouting, “B-b-but you h-hate me!” Anyone else would say he looks outraged, but Stan would level it more as highly confused. “Before now the only time we ever talked is when you yelled at me for tipping over the box of books!”

“You really think I hate you?” Some could say Stan was stricken, others could say he’s sad, maybe the real answer would be a fine line in between, or maybe a hybrid of both. Bill doesn’t answer besides a stiff little nod so Stan continues on, “I, I mean Richie has said before I can come off as a little prickly, but I didn’t think you would believe I hate you,” he furrowed his eyebrows, registering everything to take in, “I really like you Bill, we don’t talk often but I’ve been working with you for three years, you’re always so kind to people even when you look really tired- I just, I don’t think I could ever really hate you.”

Three years. Three years Bill Denbrough spent thinking Stanley Uris hated him, and all it took was one roommate who acted like an open book and one Valentine’s day to prove that the circumstances were much different.

Once again, I hope you enjoyed! Happy Valentine’s Day !!

(I edited this, but if anyone noticed a mistake, feel free to let me know!)

#itfandomsecretadmirers #stenbrough #it #mine #drabbles

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lurkerviolin · 7 years ago

Text

The Gravity Between Stars (Star Guardians)

I wrote this for my dearly beloved @dunsparceus as a part of Fandom Loves Puerto Rico. Darling, I hope you enjoy it! I’m sorry this took way longer than it should have, so I really, really hope you like it. Thank you so much for helping the cause (and helping me contribute to the cause)!! Now that you’ve gotten me started, I have no doubt I’m going to write more embarrassingly fluffy League fics. Alas, such is life.

Here it is on Ao3, but there’s almost 13k words of star guardian found family fluff under the cut!

Pretty early on, Lulu realizes that Jinx doesn’t remember her Birth as a Guardian the way the rest of them do. It takes a while, though, for Lulu to understand that’s probably an intentional decision.

The moment Lulu, a whimsical girl with an imagination too big for a mortal body, wandered into the forest after a mischievous fae spirit, she was lost to any normal life. She heard many voices in the centuries she wandered the fae world with Pix, but the First Star speaking was never a voice, not exactly, and never left any room for doubt. The sunlight broke the miasma and crept through the ornately colored foliage and she knew, as she had always suspected, than she was destined for something bigger than aimless wandering, trapped in her own head.

Pix had chittered in terror and clung to her even as she glowed, even as she burned, bright and impossible, laughing at the sky and feeling it smile back. There was no need for fear, not from this, this fire was hers. The fear would come later, but to be able to face that, she had to let the light in first.

From that day forward, Lulu was with the First Star, felt the glowing warmth of her own starlight nestled warm and bright inside her ribs, always present, always close, always beating beside her heart. She bears this inside of her with a peaceful sort of joy.

But Lulu is getting to know her teammates. Even with the near constant scowl on Jinx’s face that is most often replaced by a smile so mean it scares the warmth from a room, the First Star only ever speaks of her with quiet sadness that is not exactly remorse, but close enough that Lulu understands. This piece of Jinx, at least, she gets.

To someone like Jinx, having something foreign and burning in your chest must feel like the worst sort of home invasion. She’s too mean to try and kick it out – she knows she can’t – so she convinces herself she’s taken it hostage and can do what she wants with it. She doesn’t want the truth, it doesn’t matter to her. When someone goes after their own memories with a rocket launcher, they aren’t really aiming for precision; Jinx rarely ever does.

They’d had to run for it after their first fight, after Jinx had nearly leveled an entire city block with weaponry they wouldn’t be able to explain to the authorities, even if Jinx hadn’t made one of the cops step in a trap. They’d been arguing the whole way home and Lulu was just about to enchant the both of them when—

“Honor my ass,” Jinx had said and she and Poppy had yelled for so long, Lulu had nearly shut herself in her closet until Janna and Lux gained some semblance of control. It wasn’t control; it was Lux tearing up and Jinx and Poppy slamming doors to blot out the image, but for 3am after a battle on a school night, it was enough.

Lux nearing her breaking point was usually enough.

They’re on the patio one night after another such stalemate, Jinx sitting in a lawn chair listening to music too loudly while Lulu sits beside her legs in the grass, staring straight up at the stars poking into view. Some are just stars, but others are like them, the First Star says. She doesn’t mention that right now; they have a long way to go and a lot of things to hit between there and here.

Instead, she turns to watch Jinx, the star who is already here, but quite obviously, somewhere else, too. She hasn’t lost her mind, not like she would have people think – but she did have some part of her burnt off. That crater was already in place when Lulu met her, leaving her callous and savage, a chaos goddess screaming with laughter. …Huh. She’d like that, if Lulu said it, but then she might get a little too inspired for so late at night and—

“What, Shrimp?” Jinx snaps too loudly, tugging out an ear bud and opening an eye to glare down at her.

Long past the point of being in any way afraid of her, Lulu just tips her head. She has too many questions and not the right words for any of them; she also knows that even if she asked, Jinx is not a fan of straight answers to those sorts of things.

“Where’s Lux?” she asks instead, and the First Star tickles at her for it, understanding what she means, but doesn’t betray Jinx for the sake of Lulu’s curiosity. That’s fine. Lulu’s not to the point of active concern yet.

Jinx sits up sharply like she’s been accused. “How should I know?” she says, popping her ear bud back into her ear and stomping into the house. Her reaction is answer enough to something Lulu couldn’t quite phrase, the answer to where this is going, where they’re falling.

She looks up at the darkness of Lux’s window and hopes they’ll land somewhere nice.

Something in her chest tells her it is.

Lux remembers her life before in a very abstract sort of way.

There was something mundane about the way her parents had wished her dreams were smaller, the way her brother had wanted her to stay home and fulfil a family duty instead of taking on the world. Lux was a headstrong little girl who always had light in her chest, even before the First Star woke her up. The only thing about her past that is distinctly clear is her Birth and Jinx, those two things inseparably mixed up in Lux’s heart.

When they were young and Jinx’s smile wasn’t so sharp and her hands were warm and tiny as they wiped the tears off a littler Lux’s face, cooing, “Clumsy little star, always falling!” And she’d giggled – giggled, not cackled – a bright and happy sound that made Lux’s tears stop faster than the bandage on her knee. Lux remembers Jinx’s laughter like it was a dream, like the warmth exploding in her chest and pinking across her cheek happened somewhere that doesn’t really exist.

The grass that was itchy under her legs and the stars twinkling overhead feel like they happened in a bubble, a closed off place in which this cheerful, light version of her best friend is held tight away from the reality of who they have to be now.

There’s so much light all around them, brilliant, beautiful light. Jinx doesn’t want any of it. Sometimes, on very bad nights, it twists in Lux’s chest to think she might not want any of Lux either. To top that off with the team dynamic struggling to stay even remotely cordial, let alone cohesive, Lux is starting to… to doubt. She doesn’t want to doubt the First Star’s mission for her, for any of them, not when she can clearly feel the golden light in her chest like she feels her own heartbeat. But something is not working and she can’t help but think it’s the fact that she’s the team leader.

Tonight it was only her tears that kept their internal fighting from escalating and now, sitting on a park bench feeling lost, feeling like a fool, she can’t stop them.

“Aw, what’s got the Starlight all dimmed tonight?”

Even through her stress, Lux can’t help but laugh a little at the sound of Ezreal’s voice. She shouldn’t be surprised he found her, she’s always in this park, with it’s wide open view of the sky and winding lamp-lit trail. It’s not the first time he’s met her here, not even the first time in the middle of the night. But…

Lux turns to him just as he sits down beside her, casually slouching in his joggers and wagging a handkerchief at her. “Why do you always show up when I’m crying?” she laughs gently, accepting it to wipe her face.

“It’s like a clarion call when stars cry,” Ezreal says with a wink and Lux can’t actually tell if he’s joking or not. He nudges her. “What’s the deal?” he asks, even though he already surely knows.

Lux has been trying so hard to get her team to work together, but they aren’t syncing up right. Ahri always seems so perfectly in place, her team always seems to know what to do the second she even looks at them. While Lux and the others bumble around and fight each other nearly as much as they fight the rift monsters. It’s frustrating for everyone and for Lux, at least, bordering on panic-inducing. She doesn’t use those exact words, but Ezreal knows this, because she’s told this story before, pacing just as she is now. She can’t stop herself until she looks up and sees the familiar sympathetic smirk on his face.

She comes back to his side to sit with a dramatic groan, “This is a disaster,” she says, head in her hands. “How does your team work so well together?” Their team has been together longer but it has to be more than that.

For a moment, Ezreal seems to think on that but then he just shrugs. “We’re not friends.”

The answer is quite straight forward, but confuses her. She still distinctly remembers Miss Fortune looking like murder personified when Lux – not her friend, not even a little – had called her by her first name. “But Miss Fortune said—”

“Sarah calls anyone who she doesn’t hate her friend. It’s a short list,” Ezreal says, smiling but there is a bit of sadness in his eyes. “It’s not about being friends. It’s not even really about trusting each other, just trusting our abilities. That’s it.”

Lux is a startled by how neutral he sounds about that, the same cool darkness of Ahri’s tone when she’d told Lux they were all just strangers. It’s a bit of a surprise to hear it from Ezreal. She shakes her head, a little horrified. “But I love my team.”

Ezreal eyes her. “Ok,” he says, like that’s odd and she flushes, a little annoyed. “Ok. That’s… I would say that’s all well and good, but, well…” he taps the hand that clenched around his handkerchief, “It doesn’t seem to be working out.”

That’s a low blow, but also—“Ez, that’s so sad,” she says, “Do you really think you can avoid loving?”

The smile on his face says is carefully vacant, so much so that Lux immediately feels bad for making him think of whatever he’s hiding. Star Guardians don’t get a lot of attachments, she knows that, but that’s where their teams come in, isn’t it? That’s the family they get to build in place of the things they’ve lost.

“We have a bigger mission that that, don’t we?” Ezreal replies eventually, he throws his arms out wide smiling up at the sky. “Exploring all the corners of the universe, even the darkest ones, and spreading light. Love isn’t really in those cards.”

If he looks a little longing at that, Lux is probably imagining it. She looks away from him, warmed and determined where she expected to feel resignation. “We do have a bigger mission, I understand that and I’m not going to shy from what the First Star chose us to do, but… Ezreal,” she looks back at him in genuine confusion, “Do you really think love is all that different from light?” She turns to face him more directly, “The Light that binds guardians together… It’s almost like the love that binds families together.”

“Families,” he repeats flatly.

Lux shrugs, sheepishly. It’s not a perfect analogy. “Well, sort of, yeah!”

There’s another long pause in which she thinks Ezreal isn’t going to grace her with a response, but then he’s shaking his head, laughing. It’s not a cruel or dismissive sound, not like he’s making fun of her, but more like he’s challenging her.

“Whatever, Starlight,” he replies, kissing her fingers as he stands. Then adds on, like he genuinely means it, “Prove me wrong.” But the laugh that follows is a little more teasing, “Show me the power of friendship and love.”

It’s just annoying enough that it’s the right thing to say, it’s a challenge, a dare. It lights a fire under her, dries up the last of her tears with the heat of it. Lux is extremely grateful to him for being able to find those moments so effortlessly, but she isn’t wrong and he’s going to admit that one day. “Fine!” she snatches her hand away making him laugh again, “I will!”

There’s something missing in their team, but it isn’t love, it’s…huh.

…Huh!

Well, there’s nothing genuine or loving about being forced together, is there? The First Star put them together for a reason, yes, but this would never work unless they chose each other, too. Lux feels herself brightening with realization; she would never try to become friends with someone just because she felt it was her duty, there is more to friendships than that. They needed more than just an abstract mission to tie them together cohesively.

“Starlight, star bright, she thinks she’s figured it out,” Ezreal smiles, backing away, “I can’t wait to see this…”

Lux sticks her tongue out at his teasing, standing up as well, newly motivated.

To be truthful, she can’t wait to see this either.

It isn’t quite like surveillance, Lux tells herself, she’s just paying more attention than usual.

Honestly, it’s a little refreshing to remember that she is still a human girl in a house with other human girls, all of whom have hobbies besides the fastest way to kill a monster and plug the hole it came out of. There are things she knows about her team that she’s never paid much mind to other than accepting them as a part of their personalities. But the next few days, she makes herself take note – literally – of what her teammates do with their free time and starts planning. She wants them all to come together, their individual hobbies and likes overlapping into activities they can all participate in.

When she notices Janna one afternoon, curled up away from the others in the window seat reading, she pauses. It’s not a very big space, not for someone adult sized, but as far as the house goes, there isn’t a whole lot of room for quiet with four other people running around the place. It’s not hard for Lux to understand Janna is a person who appreciates moments of peace and quiet, or at least one of the two for more than a few moments at a time.

Now, Lux isn’t sure she can enforce a quiet hour. In fact, she’s pretty sure that would be an uphill battle to somewhere she doesn’t even want them to go. No need to aim for things that weren’t going to be particularly helpful on top of being difficult. So a middle ground, then.

Lux watches Janna turn the page and is struck with an idea.

Surely, a book club should be easy enough, right?

The book club is a disaster.

It had seemed so easy when Lux had sat down to make notes in her Big Team Togetherness Journal. Janna likes reading and Janna is the eldest. Even Jinx is occasionally willing to defer to her seniority when she isn’t feeling particularly cantankerous. It had seemed like the best way to kick off their new bonding journey, something simple and easily spontaneous. She knows it might sound sort of boring, but once they got into the swing of it, Lux could already imagine them having spirited discussions about far off lands and interesting people. So she doesn’t mention what they’re doing, just promises to buy hot cocoa once they get there.

That was probably the first mistake.

Simply planning a time to go was clearly not enough planning, because they spend so long in the bookstore, fighting about what to read that people are staring. Lux starts to panic.

“Ok!!” she exclaims, raising her hands when Poppy and Jinx look like they’re getting close to squaring up over the merits of history books over comics. “Ok, just—” think fast, Lux, this is about sharing right? “—pick the book you want to fight for.”

“We’re fighting with books?” Jinx says, grinning.

“No,” Lux answer sharply, ignoring her groaning. “We’re each going to pick a book to read and then explain to the group why it’s so great!” Thinking on her feet has never been her strong suit, she’s always been clumsy. So suffice to say she feels pretty good for spitting out that plan like she actually planned it. She jostles when Jinx groans, leaning on her shoulder.

“Luuuuux, that sounds boring,” she complains.

Poppy still looks annoyed. “And useless.”

Lux folds her arms. “Only of you pick bad books!”

Janna lets out a soft laugh and Lulu tugs on Lux’s shirt. “I want an art book,” she says agreeably, “I can explain why those are better than whatever boring books they’re picking.”

“You don’t know what I’m going to pick, Pipsqueak!”

“You just said something boring,” Lulu replies neutrally and Lux loves her. She’s not as easily motivated by challenges as Jinx is, but, well, no harm in playing into it if it works.

They split up, Jinx and Poppy trash-talking the whole time while Janna looks Lux over knowingly before wandering into the mythology section. Lux hadn’t actually thought about what book she wanted, so she finds herself in a bit of a flurry trying to find something by the time the others are done. The book of the month is a schmaltzy romance story that Lux is a little embarrassed to admit looks exactly like the sort of thing she would read with wide eyed suspense. She decides she doesn’t have time for self-imposed shame and snags it.

It takes some wrangling to track down everyone in the store and some finagling to get them to read all in one room once they get home. It’s not actually usual for them to just be in the den together, but this is a good opportunity. She drags Jinx down onto the couch next to her and turns her best ‘please’ eyes towards Poppy. It doesn’t appear to be working until Lulu spreads out on the floor, pointedly leaving the arm chair open as Janna sits on the sofa beside Lux. It could go either way, prodding Poppy like this, but today Poppy just huffs.

“Bought the damn thing, may as well read it,” she grumbles, jumping up into the chair.

For the mess this whole thing started with, the outcome is better than expected. She’s ecstatic when she leans back on the couch, even when – especially when? – Jinx sighs dramatically and tosses her legs over Lux’s lap as she opens her manga. Lux settles under the comfortable weight, unsure if Jinx did it to be difficult or not, and starts her book.

She makes it two chapters before she nods off.

Lux startles awake with a flash of guilt, but the first thing she sees is Janna smiling without looking up from her book, raising a finger. Lux blinks, looking around.

Lulu is sitting in front of Janna on the floor, several pages into her new sketchbook, happily doodling fantastical creatures and plants. Poppy is now lounging deep in the arm chair with her brow furrowed over “The History of Intra-City Warfare” – a book that probably has an unfortunate amount of stories directly related to Jinx.

Speaking of which, she realizes then that the reason she’d startled awake in the first place was Jinx snuffling in her sleep. Half her shoulder is trapped under Lux’s from where she’d slumped against her to get comfortable. Jinx had either been asleep herself when this happened or was just feeling kind enough to put her arm on Lux’s side and not bother her any further. Lux can’t quite explain why that makes her face go pink with happiness, the light in her chest fluttering weirdly, but she takes it to be a good thing.

Even when Janna teasingly presses her foot against Lux’s thigh, before curling her legs under herself and focusing on “The Evolution of Sea Deities and Their Worshipers.”

Lux watches her for a moment before she whispers, “Can I read it when you’re done?”

Janna’s smile doesn’t change, but she does glance up then and a little wisp of wind knocks some of Lux’s hair into her face. “If you tell me how your book ends,” she replies gently. “Go back to sleep.”

Lux considers fighting it, sitting up to actually do the reading she was supposed to be doing, but… this is still togetherness, in it’s own way. Sharing a space even if they aren’t sharing activities is more than they usually do. She likes where they are right now. So she sets her book aside, it will be there later, and settles back against Jinx. And besides, napping is one of her favorite pastimes.

Later that night, after dinner – and a debate about “The Blood Moon Riots” that Jinx claims no association with, no sirrie – Lux has just finished up the dishes when Janna snags her before she can get to her bedroom. Before she can even form a question, she’s being hugged tightly, Janna’s cheek pressed against her head.

It’s not exactly unheard of, getting hugs, but it’s been a while since she’s gotten one that feels so genuine. Lux doesn’t realize she’s waiting for Janna to say something until she’s already speaking quietly over Lux’s shoulder. “I believe it’s about time I followed someone who cares about where we fall when we aren’t stars, too.”

Lux almost lets her insecurity ask if that’s what a good leader does, but decides for herself that it is. They aren’t just warriors, they aren’t just a team. They’re teenagers going through the hardest challenge of their lives. She hugs Janna back and just nods, because of course she cares.

And tonight, she goes to bed feeling like they’re all finally starting to fall in the right direction.

In a lot of ways, Poppy is easier.

They may get to live like civilians most days, but they never forget they are here as a part of a bigger mission. They have to train to be ready for what the First Star has sent them to do and Poppy likes training, rarely does anything else with her free time.

She does take training just a wee bit seriously though.

“Nothing out there is going to be merciful,” Poppy says shortly and Lux might’ve flushed with offence had she not already been red – probably turning purple in some places – from the exertion of the fight. This wasn’t supposed to be the point of this exercise. “You’re going to have to pick it up or—”

“The goal isn’t to hurt each other, Poppy,” Lux defends, stunning her with a beam of light long enough to flash away. Her skin is tingling with the exertion of magic she’s had to use today, Poppy isn’t pulling punches on anyone.

“Aw, but hurting people is fun!” Jinx whines and Lux doesn’t have time to glare at her, carefully threading the needle between her chompers as Janna skids to a stop just short of them.

“If I don’t someone else will,” Poppy says ducking away from one of Jinx’s smaller rockets, eyes hard. “You can’t avoid the fight forever, Lux.”

Lux grits her teeth and tosses Jinx a shield just before Poppy sends both she and Lulu flying backwards with a truly painful looking blow.

Lulu tumbles as Pix swoops in to shield her, but Jinx lands upright, the impact sending dust flurries up around her feet. It’s something about the blood on her lips that makes Lux, well… fear or concern would be the natural response, and it is there, but that’s not all. Jinx is always gunfire and blood, so seeing it now, Lux is overtaken with an almost giddy sort of confidence. Especially when a sinister smirk stretches across her busted lip.

“Yeah, but you’re counting wrong!” Lux yells at Poppy, sprinting out of the way when Lulu suddenly grows three times her size, ground shaking under them as she lumbers forward only to be blown back by Janna. “We’d never be against each other!”

Poppy pauses then, only a fraction of a second, an odd look flickering across her face, but it’s a pause just long enough for Jinx to zap her so she staggers. Lux doesn’t think before tossing a bind on her, stepping forward to raise an ignited palm.

She’d never touch her with it, of course. Poppy knows that, doesn’t even glance at it even as the orange glows across her face, fire crackling in her ears.

Poppy has felt an ignited palm before. “One day you might have to fight a star,” is all she says.

Lux tries not to let her face change even as her chest constricts.

Though not as old as Janna, Lux knows Poppy has been on other teams before theirs. It hits her that Poppy’s abhorrence of anything less than absolute respect and faith in the First Star’s mission is very likely not just a matter of honor. There is no doubt from the hard look on Poppy’s face that she is speaking from experience.

Lux wonders what it’s like to stare into a black hole knowing who it used to be. She doesn’t want to ever find out. That’s not the destiny written out for them, she believes that from the bottom of her heart.

Extinguishing her palm, gratefully, she shakes out her hand. “Not you, I won’t,” she says softly. “It wouldn’t be anything like fighting you.”

Poppy presses her lips together, her fang disappearing for a moment and Lux hears the words she doesn’t say. Has to fight back the silly urge to shift protectively in front of Jinx. It’s silly, because Jinx of all people doesn’t need her protection because she is not a traitor, so Poppy won’t hurt her and neither will Lux.

“Any of you,” Lux adds firmly. Janna is at her shoulder now and Lulu is lazily watching Pix bob up and down, chittering excitedly, but Lux knows she can listen to both of them at the same time. “I think we should train differently.”

“How? Knitting?” Poppy almost sneers.

So Lux’s attempt at bonding was not subtle, whatever, it’s working. She just crosses her arms, chin high. “If that’s what you want.”

Jinx slides closer. “Ooh, I know what! Let’s pick some real fights. I know this gang that—”

“No,” Lux cuts in, echoed by three other voices, “but you have a point. We should work on fighting with each other.”

“Against whooo?” Jinx insists.

“Against nobody until we’re sure we can do it right,” Lux says, then her eyes light up in thought. “Poppy, have you ever built anything with that hammer?”

The practice dummies are ugly, but they’re pretty damn tanky, too. Poppy makes sure of that.

It takes a few tries because, she hasn’t ever attempted to build anything. But even when she can’t just hammer away the problem, she finds she likes working on the dummies. They only break into large, reparable pieces when hit at full strength, thanks to Lulu and Janna infusing them with magic.

“We’d make a killing selling these!” Jinx exclaims after excitedly shooting the latest model for hours.

Poppy’s mouth twists a little, because that isn’t why she made them, but she can’t quite keep the pride out of her eyes. “I’ll think about it.”

They’ve fought together before, obviously, but those battles had been fought haphazardly, narrowly avoiding friendly fire. Now, Poppy looks over to find Lux glowing with joy and can’t even find it in her to roll her eyes. It’s annoying to admit, but it does feel like it’s working. Poppy feels just shy of unstoppable, feels like they might just be some sort of functioning team. When she lets her hammer fall at the end of the day and turns to give them a sharp grin, it feels like they’ve won more than a practice match against a bunch of dummies.

Lulu and Jinx crash into Lux, a sweaty and uncontrolled hug. Poppy shakes her head when their laughter turns to shrieking when Janna’s wind whistles around them, twirling them. When Janna’s gaze falls on Poppy, she raises her brows a bit, mostly amused, though Poppy knows the other part of that look.

No, she’s not as seasoned as Janna in this mission, but she’s been around. She’s seen things go bad, she’s seen things and stars go bad faster than she could keep track of. She doesn’t ever hope for better, because hope will never get you as far as working for it will. And her team is (mostly) working for it, she knows that. She’s just trying to wrap her head around not working all the time, when the darkness is always falling towards them, but… she can let them laugh. She can laugh with them, sometimes; when the moment truly calls for it, they can joke.

And ok, she acknowledges that using her hammer to launch them into the air might’ve been a bit far, but whatever.

She’s trying.

Lulu is a little complicated in the simplicity of her pleasures: she really likes getting lost.

She calls it wandering, but Lux fails to see the difference.

Lux can’t really deny she can be quite clumsy herself, but of all the things that personality trait has led her to, being lost has never been her favorite. But it isn’t like they can really get lost, they—or, well, at the very least Janna can read just about any star over her head like a map. They haven’t wound up anywhere from which Janna couldn’t navigate them safely home. There isn’t really any more risk in this than anything else they might do. That, plus the idea that they could find a new place to practice their magics in private makes her resign herself to a day of following Lulu’s whimsy.

Assuming she didn’t pick something else to do, anyway, but Lux thinks she knows where this is going when she knocks on the door to her room. “Lulu?” When Lulu looks up from her drawing, Lux wonders if there are any free art classes around and if Lulu would have the attention span to sit through one.

“Are we bonding again?” she asks, lowering her crayon.

Lux flushes, but stands upright. “Do you not want to?” she asks completely neutrally like the young leader she is.

She thinks Pix laughs at her.

Lulu just smiles. “My choice?”

Lux nods. “Sure, if you want to pick.” She doesn’t think Lulu would actually lead them to the fae realm. She isn’t overly concerned.

Still, after an hour on a bus, when they’re an hour a half into a hike she only very narrowly convinced Jinx to participate in – and during which Lulu has hardly spoken at all – she does get a little worried.

Jinx breaks first. “Where are we even gooooing?”

“We’re getting lost,” Lulu answers.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Poppy grumbles, looking over at Lux who may have said some only-probably-true things about a new training area.

Lulu tips her head back, pouting. “We’re almost there,” she mumbles a bit petulantly.

“To ‘lost’?” Janna asks.

“Yep!” Lulu says, then suddenly Pix darts away from her and she runs after him. “Right over there!”

Before Lux can even begin to say wait, she has to start jogging to catch up with the rest of the team. She breaks through a tree line and stops short when she comes up on an abrupt drop off. It’s a short cliff, straight down into the green-brown stretch of a lazily flowing river.

“How deep is it?” Jinx asks and Lux realizes why the split second after Lulu grins at her and they shuck their shorts.

“Wait!”

Jinx grabs Lulu and leaps off, going screaming towards the water below. Lux reaches the edge just in time to see them both breach the surface, gasping and shrieking with laughter. “Slow poookes!”

The three left up top glance at each other, Janna shrugging with an amused breath. She is a little more graceful in her descent, aided by her winds, but she does join them, swimming serenely on her back. Lux thinks Poppy might kick up a fuss, but when she meets Lux’s eyes, whatever she sees in her face just makes her sigh. She starts stripping and Lux is grinning, manages to rid herself of her over clothes and plug her nose, diving in right behind Poppy.

There’s a certain lightness to playing that Lux had almost forgotten about, but now loses herself in for hours. They splash and scream, push each other and laugh and collect smooth river rocks. Poppy and Jinx get into a rock skipping contest when they wind up sitting on the shore, Lux absently braiding Lulu’s hair as she dozes with her head against Lux’s knee. Janna is watching the sky like it’s easy today, like they’ve made it easy.

The sun is setting in the sky by the time they reach home, tired and still a little damp.

Lux showers last and when she comes back into the main area, she pauses in the doorway, struck.

Poppy is cooking and Janna is absently twirling the wind chime in the window. Jinx and Lulu are playing a slightly morbid game of exquisite corpse at the kitchen island.

Lux looks around at her team, her family and feels full to bursting. When Jinx calls her over, she finds herself yanked to sit pressed hip to shoulder on her bar stool with Jinx. She could move over, there’s another open seat. She finds she doesn’t want the open seat, she wants to be exactly as close to Jinx as she is.

She sits there as Jinx shows off all of the truly gruesome ways she’s turned the tail end of Lulu’s woodland creatures into weapons, Lux can’t help but laugh. The game expands to include her and the discussion that passes over them is familiar even though something in the air between them has clearly changed.

Jinx and Poppy are still going tit-for-tat and Janna is still looking somewhere as far away as Lulu had once wandered. But the distance between them tonight doesn’t feel nearly as far as it has some days. Jinx is warm and animated against Lux’s side and she can feel Janna’s presence at the window behind her like a warm breeze on a cool night. Lulu is smiling, not in the far off way of someone who’s seen more of the world than most people know exist, but in a sweet, tickled sort of way. She’s giggling less like she’s seen the turn of the century and more like a teenaged girl having dinner with her sisters.

It won’t be like this every night, Lux reminds herself firmly, it can’t be, but—

Poppy is shoving a spoon at her to taste her chili and Janna’s shaking her head over Jinx’s shoulder at whatever she’s drawing behind her arm and Lulu is laughing brightly, her hand on Lux’s arm as she talks excitedly about the things she’s seen in the fairy woods and just…

Love, like light, is never a mistake.

Some nights it will be like this.

Janna can sense things when they come in on the wind.

Before she goes to bed, she wanders the halls like the eldest members of houses often do, and feels for her little sisters. She feels the wind creeping in one’s cracked window, the turning of another’s creaky ceiling fan, the soft rumble of one’s breathing, the sigh of a mattress as the last falls onto it. These winds, she breathes, and feels better just for how easy they’re resting tonight. Their starlight is not fragile, but it is a soft glow – embers, still warm in a fire place, in the grill, waiting to spark something bigger. She can tell something bigger is coming, she can.

Janna is old, older than her face betrays unless you look in her eyes the right way. She’s old and has seen a great many horrible, wonderful, haunting things. She’s watched teams fall apart and sees it again and again behind her eyes more often than she’d like. She’s old. But sometimes she doesn’t feel it though.

Sometimes, like tonight, at least, her sisters and their bright, untarnished light, the gentle wind of their breaths, is all she dreams about.

As is usually the case, the game changes when something blows up.

As is usually the case when something blows up, Jinx is the one who threw the switch.

They live in the same house, so it’s more than a little ridiculous for Jinx to come diving through Lux’s bedroom window in the middle of the night. Lux nearly knocks her homework off her desk jumping at the intrusion. “Jinx!”

“I know you’re a square, so give me some props for waiting ‘til Friday,” Jinx says then squints at her desk, “Dude, are you doing homework on a Friday, you are a square.”

Lux is floundering to keep up. “Waited ‘til Friday to…?” she blinks and realizes Jinx has got on clothes she’s never even seen before. Her boots are strapped and the same dark leather as her jacket and collar, all splattered with flecks of dayglow green paint. She’s wearing her driving gloves. “No,” Lux says, but Jinx’s face is already lit up.

“Oh, come on,” she says walking over and actually knocking Lux’s homework off her desk so she can sit on it and grin down at her. “You’ve been doing all this teambuilding, let’s-do-what-you-like crap for months now. It’s my turn.”

Lux’s instinctual Jinx-specific nervousness kicks in, but it’s buzzing and bright in her chest, an almost welcome feeling. She should say no. “But…”

“One race. Out of the city limits. And I didn’t even steal the bike,” Jinx sings, dancing in place, “I got it from a junker who owed me a favor.”

…Lux should say no, but Jinx looks happy-manic, a look Lux loves dearly but rarely gets to witness when there’s no violence involved. In fact, she’d forgotten how different it is from the sharp smirk of a trigger-happy munitions expert, Jinx is just smiling. At her.

Lux looks down at her pajamas, pink and purple plaid with poros on the shirt, then back to Jinx’s sleek leather. “What would I even wear?” she tries weakly. Judging by the way Jinx’s smile only broadens, it’s not a very good defense.

“Starlight,” Jinx grins and Ezreal’s nickname sounds unusually sweet on Jinx’s tongue. Lux flashes warm. “I gotcha covered! Pun intended!”

Lux doesn’t wear a lot of dark colors, but even she must admit, she can appreciate the way she looks in midnight blue.

The hood tugged up over her head makes her feel a little conspicuous – which is ridiculous considering she has bright pink hair – but she stays still and lets Jinx tug it up over her head agreeably. She always goes a little still when Jinx smiles at her like that.

“You look almost like you might know a criminal!” Jinx exclaims, cackling when Lux swats at her arm.

Sprinting to the garage through the dark makes Lux’s nerves stand on end, but it’s a guilty sort of thrill, too. But Jinx is chattering excitedly, as close to a whisper as she ever really gets, dragging her along by the hand and the thrill isn’t nearly as guilty. Lux thinks better of asking where Jinx even got the key to this place, following her inside.

The bike is a beast, a huge grey and black clunker that seems almost alive, ROADHOG emblazoned across the tailpipe. It coughs and roars to life the moment Jinx twists the key. When Lux tosses her leg over, it does feel a bit like she’s straddling a wild boar.

Fitting for Jinx, she thinks. It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing that should obey any speed limits as Jinx takes them to the outskirts of the city. She’s surprised she recognizes the drivers gathered there when Jinx skids to a stop. The most surprising, though, is Ezreal.

To be fair, Ezreal is more than a little surprised to see her, too, judging by the look on his face when he pulls his helmet off. “Starlight!” he exclaims, happy to see her nevertheless.

Ekko – who she only recognizes from seeing him with Jinx when she’s skipping class – sizes her up. “She seems new,” is all he says, but Lux gets the feeling ‘new’ encapsulates a lot.

Jinx rolls her eyes at him. “She’s mine,” is all she replies, but it feels like that encapsulates a lot as well.

Judging by the grin that lights up Ezreal’s face, it must. “Good enough for me,” he gets on the back of his sleek blue bike, winking at her. “Good luck, Starlight.”

“Hey, I’m driving!” Jinx exclaims, plopping Lux’s helmet back on.

“That’s why she needs the luck, BB,” he replies, Ekko chuckling beside him.

Lux blinks between the two of them. “BB?”

Jinx grins even before Ezreal answers, “Biggest Bang,” with a smirk before pulling his helmet down over his face.

“Rules?” Lux asks a little hysterically, clutching Jinx’s clothes.

Ekko laughs, but it sounds like genuine amusement, not malice. “No guns unless you get caught,” he puts on his helmet, solid black with a white hourglass over his face. “Don’t get caught.”

“First ‘round the city wins! Gentlemeeeen!! Start! Your! Engines!” Jinx screams.

Ekko’s bike glows with a humming sea-green light when he turns it on and Ezreal’s purrs, but neither of them sound like much under Jinx’s monster. Ekko tosses up a trinket that blinks down – red, red, yellow, green – and the bikes spring forward and steal the breath from Lux’s lungs. It’s terrifying at first, how fast they’re going, how close they are to each other, to the ground on the turns, but then the road opens up and it feels like flying. She never quite understood Jinx’s tendency towards racing until now, arms around her and eyes on the horizon. Their hearts are pounding as they strain to close the narrow distance between them and Ekko, in first place.

Lux tenses as if it’ll make them go faster when she sees Ezreal creeping up in the corner of her vision. “Jinx!” she exclaims, but Jinx doesn’t even look over. She nudges something with her knee, starts flipping switches on the dash.

“Hold onto me, brace for it!!” Jinx screams and Lux’s blood goes cold.

“Brace for—?” she doesn’t even get the question all the way out before Jinx kicks out and the bottom of the bike ignites under their feet. Lux yelps in shock, tightening her arms around Jinx a moment before they get launched into the air.

Lux is screaming as Jinx whoops joyously.

The core of the bike is a rocket. Of course, it is.

Suddenly, the feeling of flying is literal as they blast off, flying well past Ekko into the lead. Jinx pops a parachute the second they pass Ekko’s trinket, still glowing on the ground, and the sensation of the sudden stop flips Lux’s stomach as it jerks them off the seat, lifted into the air. As soon as it registers that she’s not going to explode on a probably hastily-made, rocket-boosted monstrosity she starts laughing.

Yes, partly because it’s funny, but also because that was the biggest non-rift-monster related risk she’s ever taken and it was terrifying, but she loved it. They’ve skidded to a stop on the ground now, but she’s clinging to Jinx, half hunched over with residual panicked laughter. Jinx holds her up under one arm and when Lux looks up, Jinx is bright with mirth and chaos, cackling.

…And Lux isn’t thinking.

That’s not something a leader should ever say, she knows that, but suddenly she isn’t. She touches Jinx’s face like she knows it’s fragile and she still can’t keep her fingers off it. Jinx stops laughing instantly, confused, and Lux feels much the same.

They’re very close and Jinx’s eyes are bright and coppery and Lux hasn’t… she hadn’t ever really thought about kissing her, but the wonder she feels at the thought is just that – wonder. She wonders if Jinx would let her, what it would feel like, what her lipstick tastes like, if it would mean as much as the pounding in her chest implies it would.

But then Ekko’s bike is humming up behind them and Jinx’s face twists. She puts her down and steps back.

Lux flushes, startled. “Jinx…”

“Woo!” Jinx screams without looking at her, turning to face the guys as they pull up. “Having someone to fling magic toys around must be fun, huh, Ekko?”

“Cheater,” Ezreal says when Ekko just sneers at her.

“I didn’t use a single gun! Those were the only rules!”

They’re shit talking and Lux can hardly get in edgewise, even when Ezreal tosses an arm around her shoulder, jokes about her getting on her own bike. Jinx steamrolls the conversation to an alarmingly solid no. And she’s not wrong, but something about the implication that Lux is no longer invited to something Jinx loves scares the living daylights out of her.

“Jinx,” Lux tries again, more insistently when they’re alone and heading back to the house. It’s wrong, it’s all wrong now.

“Come on!” Jinx says, too enthusiastically, “Janna and Short Stack should be back from that fancy-ass cooking class. Maybe they flame broiled something, maybe they’ll let me flame broil something.” She doesn’t look back as she says this.

In fact, Jinx doesn’t look at her all through their late dinner or before she bounds up the stairs and slams the door to her room.

Lux feels cold inside.

Stars aren’t meant to burn cold.

Lux and Ezreal fight.

It is always good, it is a very good way to let off steam and Lux could really use it. Right now, there’s so much steam in the house it feels like a pressure cooker about to bust even when nobody’s inside. Whatever has changed between her and Jinx is cooking everyone, but Lux is too twisted up inside to know what has changed exactly, let alone how to fix it.

And so here she is, dripping with sweat and sore to the bones, stopping just a hair’s breadth from Ezreal’s ignited palm. He’s panting, holding his stance firm even as his brow quirks at her. “You’re about to kick my ass distracted,” he says with a bit of a pout, “My pretty face not enough today?”

Lux lets out a breathless laugh. “I didn’t come to whine to you,” she says, but before she can raise her hand to cast a spell, his palm flashes out and he curls it, fireside warm, around her wrist.

“Lux,” he says with a smirk that she’s come to understand is his approximation of a patient face, “You’re very pretty, but if I didn’t like listening to you, I wouldn’t hang around.” She feels herself go pink and his smile softens. “Is this about the race?”

Of course, he noticed. Lux should stop letting herself forget he’s pretty and perhaps a bit impulsive, but he’s also stunningly smart behind it all.

“It was working,” is the first thing she says when they sit down, because it was. Weeks on weeks of hanging out and training together and talking about books, being together has made them a stronger team. There haven’t been any botched incidents in months. Until Lux looked up at Jinx and saw her now, right then, in that moment and didn’t mourn for the smiling little girl she used to be. She saw Jinx and the fragility of her happiness and thought how badly she wanted to stay a part of it and wanted to be as bright for Jinx as she was for Lux and—

“You fell in love, didn’t you?” Ezreal asks softly, eyes on the ground, and Lux reels back from him, shocked.

“What? No, I—No, that’s…” Lux can’t even complete that sentence, can’t even complete the thought.

She hadn’t gone into this trying to fall in love, not in any other way than as a unit, a family lead together in the light of the First Star. And she does love them, she loves them so much she could burst with it, but with Jinx… It’s love, why wouldn’t it be? But it’s different than any other love she’s ever felt, different than what she feels for the others. It hurts because she can feel that the night she looked at Jinx like she hung the sun was too much, entirely too much and she broke it. She’s losing it.

“I’m…” Before she can even get it in her head to steel herself, to not cry in front of him yet again, tears are streaking down her face, her breath quiet and shivery.

Ezreal takes a sharp breath, lets it out on her name, “Lux…” he starts, reaching for her.

She wraps her arms around herself. “Don’t rub my nose in it,” she gasps, “I know, I know I messed up, I ruined everything.”

“Well, that’s not what I was going to do,” he says, shifting closer to her, one arm braced behind her back and the other fishing out his handkerchief. “It may have been an accident, but that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily a mistake.”

“Those are synonyms,” Lux points out sulkily, wiping her face.

“Sort of, but just because you didn’t do it on purpose doesn’t mean it’s bad,” he winces a little, “Even if it’s complicated. Jinx is…” he smiles like he’s embarrassed, “She’s not as dislikeable as she likes to think she is. And you really know her, of course you love her.”

Lux is surprised by that admission, but still looks at him sidelong. “You’re the one that said loving your teammates was a mistake.”

Ezreal shrugs. “Guess I’m learning from you,” he says cryptically, “and anyway, anything you love could never be a mistake. You just gotta figure out what to do with it.”

“Just like that,” Lux asks flatly, stunned by his sudden faith in her ability to not royally screw up something he’d warned her against in the first place.

Ezreal’s smile is sweetly confident in her. “Just like that,” She blinks, startled when he leans forward and kisses her cheek. “You’re good at thinking on your feet, Starlight, you got this.”

Though she’s normally – and even still now – encouraged by Ezreal’s easy manner that makes it seem like everything is alright, she only narrowly avoids pointing out that she barely managed to get the team to a good place after dozens of screw ups. They’re doing better, yes, but it’s still a newly establish balance, easily thrown off and lost.

And to top it off, she’s in love.

Great.

Just great.

It sits wrong on them, all of them.

The way they’d finally managed to fit themselves together, all those months of effort, are beginning to feel all crooked. Lux is desperate to get things back together and, of all things, Lux hates feeling desperate.

“Jinx, come on…” she says – maybe begs – the third time she misses the timing after Poppy knocks a monster into the air for her and just sprays bullets across the area, sending dirt and monster goo flying everywhere before turning on the shrubbery. She says it because she can see something scathing held back behind Poppy’s clenched teeth and Lulu has been hearing something that’s making her shoulders hunch and Janna is staring off at the horizon like a different storm is brewing.

She says it because this is her fault in the first place.

Jinx’s hackles are up immediately. “Come on, what?” Lux doesn’t want to fight her, not like this, but Jinx’s knuckles are white on her guns and her eyes are livid bright. “You gonna give me a speech about how I should respect the light the First Fucking Star shat in me, too?”

“Jinx!!” Lux exclaims scandalized, anxiously feeling Poppy’s rage spike.

“Watch your mouth,” Poppy snaps. “You could at least act like—” she breaks off, bearing her teeth when Jinx stomps over to get in her face.

“Like I haven’t had an original thought in decades?” Jinx exclaims, “Do you ever unclench?”

Poppy looks fit to knock her over the head. “We’re Star Guardians,” she hisses through gritted teeth, “You could at least pretend like you understand what it means to be something.”

Lux sees the fight sliding away from the issue at hand faster than she can make a grab for it. “Guys…”

“Something other than a Zaunite gutter dweller, is that it?” Jinx bites back. This rarely comes up, but when it does it blows up fast.

“That’s not what she’s saying,” Lux interjects, “Jinx, it’s not an image we’re trying to uphold, it’s…” she flounders, hearing how unconvincing it sounds before it’s even out of her mouth, “we’re trying to uphold light.”

That has the opposite effect of what Lux was aiming for, Jinx’s face twisting furiously. “Oh well, I’m sorry I’m not light and ass-kissing goodness, I’m sorry I’m not the kind little…”

Lux shakes her head. “I don’t— we don’t need that! The First Star put us together for a reason, we don’t need you different.”

Lulu shifts, an anxious hum coming from her, but Lux honestly couldn’t tell if Lulu made the sound or not. She’s lifted a hand to her head. “The First Star wouldn’t have chosen you for this if you weren’t right.”

Jinx sneers. “So what? I wouldn’t have chosen this for me if I’d had a choice!” She laughs then, a caustic sound and Lux feels a frightening flash like the little girls they’d been together were never even real. “You know what? I do have a choice!” the guns pop away into Kuro and Shiro, before they faze into her gauntlets, “We’re done!”

Poppy grips her hammer tighter. “You can’t—” she starts, but Jinx is already stomping away.

Lux doesn’t realize the only reason she stops is because she unconsciously shot out a panicked hand to grab her by the wrist. Once she realizes she’s doing it, though, she doesn’t take it back, can’t imagine letting go willingly.

“Jinx…” she starts, waiting for Jinx’s eyes, surprised when she actually half turns to face her. “We were born together,” Lux whispers quaveringly and it sounds so loving and desperate, it scalds.

Jinx snatches her hand away, the scowl on her face obvious but not the pain in her eyes before she turns around to storm off. “You’re breaking my heart, Lux,” she spits savagely, “I know where the hell I was born.”

“Jinx, please.”

Watching Jinx’s back retreat hurts Lux in a way she’s never felt before. Poppy is glaring, which is bad, but Lulu and Janna just look vacantly sad which is worse.

Lux’s eyes are brimming, so she doesn’t turn to face them, can’t let them see her so close to losing it. “This isn’t…”

“We’ll pick up the slack,” Poppy says and Lux can hear the hard frown on her face as she turns to stomp the other way. “We should’ve been practicing without her anyway.”

Lulu comes to Lux’s room later that night and Lux is immediately grateful for it. Jinx is just one of them, but somehow the house feels horrendously empty without her clanking around in her room.

“The First Star says you didn’t do anything wrong and not to worry,” Lulu starts without preamble.

Lux shuts her eyes and lets out a frustrated breath. She’s not going to start crying again, she’s done, she’s tired. Her eyes don’t listen to her. “But it’s my fault.” She looks down, startled, when Pix floats into her hands.

Lulu lays down with her dirty feet on Lux’s pillow. Lux cringes, but doesn’t say anything.

“Sort of,” Lulu replies, but continues, “You made us a star cluster!”

Lux scoffs, rolling her eyes as she wipes at them. “Are you even passing astronomy?” she mumbles and Lulu rubs her feet into the pillow in retaliation.

“It’s gravity, Lux,” Lulu says. “We’re all stuck in orbit around each other. It’s just that you and Jinx are falling towards each other, too.”

“Great,” Lux groans, turning facedown into her bedspread. “Stars on a collision course, that sounds so much better.”

Lulu laughs and wiggles until she can rest her head on Lux’s back. “She would love that,” she says and Lux would be inclined to agree until Lulu continues, “Or, she will once it stops scaring her.”

It’s only her faith that keeps her from asking aloud when it will stop scaring her. Both her faith in the First Star’s mission and in Lulu’s belief in her as a sister and maybe even as a leader. It feels almost like her belief in Jinx doubled back at her.

But the monster is huge.

Lux supposes they should count it as lucky that they do get a warning of it’s arrival, even if it’s the sudden eruption of a rift on the edge of the city. The shockwave shakes their windows and leaves a heavy and oppressive aura over the whole city. The people shift, disquieted from the noise, but every star guardian’s hair stands on end as they leap into action.

Without Jinx there they all feel the hole of her presence, the way they aren’t shining the same as usual, but they don’t have a choice to back down, they can’t. Ezreal had asked her early on if she’d choose the world or her sisters, but in the moments when she’s dashing around the battle field shielding everyone trying to keep the chaos from expanding to the city, it feels like the same thing. Ahri’s charm hits the monster right in the face and it turns to her for long enough that Poppy can smash it in the head with her hammer, but it’s working slowly, so slowly.

Soraka can only heal so much of the damage on the move, even as Miss Fortune and Lulu try to take out all the smaller but just as vicious things making their way out of the rift. Janna sweeps one out of the way just before it gets it’s teeth in Ezreal’s calf. They’re being put on defense, pushed back from where they’re trying to hold the line. Janna and Syndra peel off to make chase when the line is broken and – Lux looks over when Ahri lands with less of her usual grace, sees it in her eyes, too – this isn’t working.

But this is what they do and they can’t quit.

So they fight until Lux is tingling and numb all over, hands burning with the over use of her magic and hoping, calling out to the First Star that Janna and Syndra are enough to keep the civilians safe. She ducks out of the way of Miss Fortune’s rain of bullets, the monster blood it sends flying – she hopes that they are all enough to keep everyone safe. When she finds her way to her feet, she’s shaking, Ezreal’s boost giving her just enough to attack all four of the monsters surrounding her, even though a tendril of the largest monster shoots up through the ground and knocks her into the air.

It takes all her concentration to land on her feet, but even still, she’s winded and dizzy, and has to gather herself.

She closes her eyes, just for a split second; she thinks of the First Star choosing her, of her sisters making her stronger, of all the guardians giving their all and how she will not let them fall tonight, and lastly, as loud as she can, she thinks Jinx.

Just her name, because that already carries the weight of all they have ever been and ever hope to be and the feelings for which Lux has no other name.

Lux opens her eyes, grits her teeth, and hopes, hopes, hopes as she charges back in.

The First Star does hear prayers, albeit in the profound way that something infinite and ancient can hear the whole of existence all at once. It does its best to listen, especially to the cries of its Guardians, its eyes and hands. Sometimes it even speaks back, like the constant not-quite-words whisper in the heart of someone like Lulu or the sense of oneness among all guardians. However, It also can make use of human voices when need be. They are so small, for however much it loves them, that it sometimes forgets this in the scope of All Things.

Yes, the First Star is in all things, but sometimes it is a struggle for people to recognize its will as a good thing. It must address those that distrust differently than it addresses the devout, of course it must.

Case in point, this time when the First Star reaches into Jinx, it lets her feel the desperate, faithful, loving shape of her own name in Lux’s mind, lets her hear what it wants in Lux’s voice. It is the first time Jinx doesn’t burn herself trying fruitlessly to shove it back out.

Jinx hears it and, just this once, manages to listen.

Ezreal is vibrating, but that’s mostly because he refuses to call it trembling.

It’s been a long fight, too long. They’re being worn down and – Lux tosses him a shield before he gets a face full of acid, thank the First – it’s only a matter of time before the rift overtakes them. Ahri’s face is pinched like she’s already made her way to plan W and man, oh man, Ezreal starts losing body parts at X so he’d really like—

He jerks when a monster body lands beside him with a splat, full of scorched holes and a metal trap on it’s leg. Relief floods him when he hears from above, “Yo, Pretty Boy!”

“What?” Ezreal shouts back, taking out another cog to his left, Jinx’s gun popping quickly through two more to the right. He’s excited now; he’s been tired for a long time, but he secretly loves running on pure adrenaline, he’s good at it. And Jinx is a heavy hitter, a tide turner. He’s feeling high just from her presence. Lux is too busy to turn and see and he’s not dumb enough to call out to her, but she’s already glowing brighter like she can feel Jinx there. Ezreal and the others glow in turn, completed.

Oh, he’s well and truly excited, this is gonna be good.

“Wombo-combo!” Jinx screams, landing beside him, singed and with a lit-fuse grin and house-fire eyes.

“What?” He blinks when she lifts a truly impressive sized gun off her waist, aiming at the writhing, roaring head of the terror before them, adjusting continuously to follow the monster’s shifting gait.

“Light ‘em up!!” she explains, “Hit ‘em with your best shot!! Gimme your biggest boom!!”

Ezreal doesn’t need to be told again, summoning everything in him, all he’s got left and more than that too, his biggest boom. It hurts, a little, but he can’t say he hasn’t wanted to try. He feels his feet lifting off the ground with the gathering power in his hands and it feels pretty “Hell yeah.”

“Hell yeah!” Jinx screams back, rocket whirring as she aims it, “3!”

Ahri sees the light gathering around his hands, eyes going wide even from a distance. She throws a heavy charm at the monster and Ezreal cannot let the fear touch him when it’s attention suddenly swivels to her, alone in a sea of cogs, he can’t ,he has to focus.

Jinx sees too and rushes through the end of her count, “2, 1, and lift off!!”

Ezreal lets everything go as soon as Jinx does, and lands on his ass just in time to watch it race forward.

A rocket riding a wave of pure starlight.

Though coursing with relief, Lux doesn’t turn when she recognizes the sound of Jinx’s rocket, feels the familiar heat of Ezreal’s magic, not yet. She faces the monster and trusts. Trusts their aim and their abilities and the idea—the fact that this will work. She summons her light to her chest, she feels time slow, feels everything fall away except the monster before her and her allies abilities around her. She has to time it right, so she holds her breath, holds her light, until the exact moment they pass harmlessly on either side of her. Then she lets out the most savage scream she can muster and lets out all the light she has in her.

It hits.

It’s gross, watching it’s head explode as it roars in pain, but Miss Forture’s wild laughter as she takes out every little monster left standing in her vicinity sparks off Ezreal and he’s laughing, it worked. The biggest of the monsters is slumping back into the rift and Ahri and Soraka rush forward to seal it, Janna suddenly sweeping in to blast the way clear. Lux is staggering on her feet, but with a wave of Lulu’s hand, she’s towering over them knocking monsters away and with a sudden flare of light the rift snaps closed. Anything left on this side is easy pickings, caught before it even reaches the edge of the field, particularly with two sharpshooters doing their best to show each other up in the after battle high.

“Well, fly me to the moon,” Ezreal mutters in something like awe, not even realizing he’s said it aloud until Jinx’s wild bright grin turns towards him. “A shooting star!”

Jinx laughs with her head thrown back, launching one final rocket into the sky with a shout. It’s that sound that finally makes Lux turn, holding her hands like they hurt even as Soraka cups both of them in hers. Her face is so open and longing, Ezreal feels a kick in his chest for her. He turns his gaze to Jinx. Though he doesn’t know her as well as her team does, not by a longshot, he can tell the cocksure way she saunters over to where their teams have gathered is mostly fake. Still, he follows, watches as she smirks at Lux.

Still, he sighs when the first words out of her mouth are, “Miss me?”

Lux isn’t sure what she’d been expecting. Surely not something heartfelt, definitely not an apology, but the fact is, yes. It’d been hardly a whole day since Jinx had left and Lux had missed her like a phantom limb, hoping for her to turn up for the whole fight. Not even because they were losing, but just because she wanted her there. Jinx and her stupid smart mouth and her ember bright eyes and—

Lux – breathing in the ashes, covered in monster blood – starts laughing. It startles everyone else as much as it startles her, but she can’t stop, covering her face and hunching over as she shakes with raucous laughter. It isn’t until Lulu puts a hand on her side, radiating concern, that she realizes she’s switched from laughing to sobbing.

Jinx has never known what to do with people when they cry, but for however long it’s been, Lux’s tears apparently still ring familiar. Her smile pinches a little as she steps forward, wiping Lux’s cheeks with hands that smell like gunpowder. “Oh, come on, fearless leader, we did it! What’re ya sniveling about, huh?”

“You—You’re such—,” Lux is so relieved and in love and tired, she just— “You’re such a piece of shit!”

Lulu actually gasps while Ezreal laughs aloud.

“O.M.G.!!! Did you hear that!!?” Jinx exclaims, excitedly, “She cursed, she cursed at me!”

“If you two are done,” Ahri says primly, pushing her hair out of her face. “I’d like to get this cleaned up before the sun rises.”

Jinx says something sharp because she can’t help herself, but they do manage to clean up relatively quickly, the worst of the damage having already fallen back into the rift. By the time they’re staggering home, the two teams closing ranks in opposite directions – except for the moment Ezreal pauses to squeeze Lux’s hand with a wink – Lux is very nearly asleep on her feet. Even with Lulu holding her hand, she keeps drifting closer to Jinx, like gravity.

“Jeez, are you trying to trip me?” Jinx says eventually, then just tosses an arm around her shoulder, “Walk straight.”

Lux goes warm at the contact, but she sees Poppy’s lips curl out of the corner of her eyes. “She might not be so tired if we’d been playing with a full deck from the start…”

They all sigh, but Janna is the one who closes her hand on Poppy shoulder. “Please…” Not tonight, not right now, give it a rest.

The fight they’re all expecting, doesn’t start though, because surprisingly enough, Jinx doesn’t respond. Her arm tenses around Lux and she looks more than a little annoyed, but for some reason, she holds her tongue. Lux is almost concerned enough to ask, but Jinx lets out a raspberry sigh and keeps walking.

They’re on the porch when she finally speaks up.

“I don’t care about fate,” Jinx says firmly, “Or destiny, or any of that. I barely give a shit about being a star guardian.”

“Jinx…” Janna says tiredly.

“Barely,” Lux repeats, shocky. In Jinx-speak, that’s a leap and a bound away from not giving a single shit. The look on Jinx’s face says she knows exactly what Lux is thinking and it’s giving her indigestion. She rolls her eyes to look straight up at the sky.

“Listen, the only thing I care about is keeping you safe,” though she looks down directly at Lux after she says this, she turns to the others, too. “If I gotta ride a sun bareback to keep you planet-saving do-gooders alive, then fuck it, I guess I gotta do it.” She looks flustered, maybe even a little flush at this admission, shrugging uncomfortably, “Or whatever…”

It doesn’t seem like anyone quite knows how to respond to that, but Lux knows they only have a few seconds until Jinx’s discomfort gives her the impulse to disrupt the silence with something crass. She doesn’t want that tonight, not when she’s just given them something so honest and still so very Jinx. So instead, she acts on her own impulse.

Lux pulls one of her pig tails until Jinx stumbles forward into her arms.

Jinx returns this embrace with a wondrous lack of hesitation, even if it’s only seconds later when she starts wiggling and crowing about how gross it is when all the others join in, too.

Falling into place around them as natural as the pull of gravity.

“Come on! Come on, comeoncomeon!!”

Jinx is bouncing excitedly trying to drag Lux from her room before she’s even fully dressed.

“Hold on, Jinx, jeez—hey!!” she shouts when the moment she tugs her shirt down, Jinx hefts her onto her back.

“But you’re so slow!” she complains, jogging down the hall and—”

Lux pales. “Do not run me down those stairs, do not—”

Jinx leaps for it.

And only narrowly avoids sending both of them flying through their new living room table.

“I just built that,” Poppy snaps in warning, already standing by the door with Lulu.

Lux jumps off Jinx, feeling chastised. “Where are we going?” she asks, changing the subject with a shameless lack of subtlety.

“You never tried to get us to do your thing,” Jinx answers and it takes Lux a moment to realize what she even means. She blinks, touched, but also a little embarrassed.

Not embarrassed enough to keep her from hesitantly clarifying, “…Eating?”

Their smiles are knowing and teasing as they glance at each other, sharing a group eye roll at her expense.

“Told you,” Lulu says as Poppy passes her some coins.

Lux flushes, crossing her arms stuffily. “I have other hobbies!!”

“Yeah, sleeping,” Jinx laughs, pinching Lux’s cheek until she bats her hand away.

Janna comes over to fix her hair. “We’ll try to account for nap time, too,” she teases, but Lux has to laugh a little because she knows without a shadow of a doubt Janna is only partly kidding. She hugs her just because she can and Janna lets out a soft breath that’s almost a laugh.

“Where are we going?” Lux asks, excited now.

The faire is just a spontaneous event, a few city blocks sectioned off and packed with rides and performances and the like. Lux visits a few, but most of her time is spent staring wide eyed at all the food stalls, stuffed to the gills with interesting delicacies. She should probably be alarmed by how much she’s spent on food, but she’s too distracted by how much she’s enjoying herself.

It’s a good day, a very good one. It’s not long before the man at the high striker gives Poppy the biggest stuffed poro he has and politely tells her not to come back. That’s a step up from the shooting gallery banning Jinx as soon as she comes into view. All in all, it leaves Lux quite tickled, especially when Janna buys a large blanket and asks if she’d like to lay out in the park.

Lux loves them all and is more inclined to share the admittedly absurd amount of snacks she’d purchased for herself. They’re eating together in the sunlight, showing off their wares and just generally relaxing. For however much Lux does love napping, the strangest thing is she feels almost too happy to fall asleep. She’s in the middle of complementing Janna’s new hair piece when Lulu speaks up out of the blue.

“The First Star says go for it,” she says, moving from where she’d been sitting in Jinx’s lap over into Janna’s. “It’s not a mistake.”

“Eh?” Lux blinks at her in confusion. While she loves that sort of advice, she doesn’t have the faintest clue what that could be referring to. Even when Poppy rolls her eyes, looking pointedly down at her bento box and Janna smiles slyly. “Go for what?” she asks, but then she catches sight of Jinx’s face in the corner of her eyes.

She looks angry, but not really angry, and actually, it’s a lot closer to annoyed embarrassment, she’s blushing. What in the world could make Jinx—?

Jinx hates being told what to do, she always has.

Even when she was a child and less difficult, when everything was less difficult, she never liked being told what to do. When she lost the only people who would even make an attempt at doing so, she decided that moment nobody else would. Not even when some star from the beginning of fucking time tried to tell her how special she was and how she could save the world, nope, not even then. These guns are hers and she’s going to use them how she wants, this is her life and she’s going to live it how she wants and Jinx hates being told what to do…

But the First Star has at least given her the power to keep her sisters safe, to keep Lux safe, which… that’s all she really wants to do at this point. So when they say she never listens, she can correct them. She listened that one time when her teammates’ lives were on the line; any other time she listens to the First Star’s advice for the same reason doesn’t count.

This time doesn’t really count either, though. It doesn’t matter what the First Star says.

Jinx has wanted to kiss Lux for years.

#fandom loves puerto rico #league of legends #my writing #long post #star guardian lux #star guardian jinx #hi pat<3

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