#it’s godly food it’ll fix me

[lickvan-dyke]

shhhhh it’s pomegranate season, go fill a big bowl with water, round the pomegranate with a knife - not cutting deep but scoring, just until you break through the skin - in wedges like an orange. Submerge it in the water and break it apart with your hands, and gently ease the seeds out from there - they will sink, the white flesh will float and you can scoop it out easily. Eat them by the fistful and immerse yourself in the decadence found only in the most miserable part of the year. I love you

[fallenmonsters]

let the secret out.

summary ➳ you’re a delinquent, who’s actually scary and intimidating unlike gwinam. cheongsan is a normal student. there shouldn’t be any connections between you two... right?

pairings ➳ lee cheongsan x delinquent!male reader

warnings ➳ fluff, foul language, mention of fights, secret healthy relationship, sparkles of jealousy, mention of gyeongsu’s death, nayeon throwing herself at reader, use of weapon (knife), blood, reader and cheongsan having sexual tension the entire fic lmao

“How about you, Cheongsan? What do you think of (Y/n)?”

The said male looks up from the foods in front of him to his friends, catching their curious gazes.

They had been talking about (L/n) (Y/n), the most feared delinquent on campus who actually doesn’t seem that much of a delinquent because of high grades and the lack of involvement in bullying. You were quiet and did nothing but to mind your own business in class, occasionally talking back against teachers that called you out for being late or skipping classes, and sending death glares to everyone who tries to get close.

You were an odd delinquent; involving yourself in fights only when necessary, accepting the teachers’ call for help, aggressively helping people who tripped in front of you, only minding your own business, and not minding people who accidentally spilled their drinks on you. You act how a delinquent shouldn’t, and it seems like you’re only called that is because you’re not afraid to speak out your thoughts no matter how hurtful it is, you’re intimidating and scary, and you beat up people.

His friends have stated their own opinions about you, mostly positive and only a small amount of negative, while Cheongsan continuously ate his food with his head hung low, since he didn’t want to partake in it. Though, he should’ve known his friends would not miss a chance to hear everyone’s opinion.

He looks at the table three rows away where you sat quietly alone, eating your favorite food and reading a book. That’s also one thing that makes you so unlike from other delinquents.

You look handsome like this, sitting in a way a delinquent would with all your focus fixed on the book. It’s almost as if you’re a godly, unrealistic being painted on a canvas by a professional and perfectionist painter.

Cheongsan didn’t understand why everyone found you so intimidating and scary; in all honesty, he thinks girls should be screaming, squealing and freaking out over you like those girls in cliché romance anime with handsome main character from how insanely and unbelievably attractive you are. But, in all honesty again, he would be irritated and annoyed if that actually happens.

“He seems fine to me,” Cheongsan answered Gyeongsu’s previous question with an unenthusiastic one as he forced himself to look away from your figure.

An unsatisfied look appears on both Gyeongsu’s and Suhyeok’s face as the others groaned at his lack of cooperation in sharing a throughout opinion, clearly disappointed. “What the fuck is that answer, you moron? There should be more to it like gossips about him and how you think of him.” Gyeongsu complains, smacking his arm.

Cheongsan raised his brows at him before his lips forms a pout, something that always happens when he’s thinking.

Unbeknownst to him, your eyes shifted from the book to his direction, a subtle smirk spreading across your face at the sight of his pout. You took out your phone and opened the camera, zooming it on his face with slight difficulty from how far he was. You then pressed the shutter button, successfully capturing him into picture as you opened gallery to save it in a specific folder.

Gathering his thoughts, Cheongsan finally opens his mouth to speak. “I think he’s handsome,” All of his friend’s jaws dropped. They did not expect that answer. “And I also think it’ll be fine to sit next to him or be close to him as long as you mind your business just like he does and if you don’t bother him that much.” He shrugs, taking one glance at you to see you’re on your phone instead.

“Have you tried sitting next to him?” Suhyeok asked curiously.

“No,” Cheongsan shakes his head. “But I’m not scared to try.”

Gyeongsu looks at him incredulously. “How are you not scared or intimidated? He’s scarier than Gwinam, and that says a lot.” Suhyeok nodded while pointing at Gyeongsu to show his agreement.

Cheongsan only shrugs at his question.

Since the beginning, he was never intimidated by you for unknown reasons. You were just so handsome, so attractive, and so godly that Cheongsan forgot to be scared. Though, your straightforwardness, honesty and the ability to speak out your thoughts without hesitation no matter how brutal or hurtful it’ll sound intimidated him a lot.

He assumes that’s probably why so many people are intimidated. No one can be completely honest and truthful nowadays in fear of being hated or disliked by others.

As his friends began talking among themselves after getting bored, Cheongsan looks at you once again only to catch you already staring at him. He makes sure his friends aren’t looking and smiles, subtly waving his hand to acknowledge your presence. He sees you nod, covering the smile that appears on your lips with your phone so no one can see it.

Cheongsan goes back to eating his food with butterflies filling his stomach and heart beating rapidly against his ribcage.

Perhaps, everyone being intimidated by and scared of you isn’t so bad when he’s the only one who can do things like this.

Shit, what the fuck.

Cheongsan panicked internally after escaping the zombies that suddenly appeared out of nowhere in the cafeteria, alongside Onjo. The two of them managed to escape in a room filled with survivors; Gyeongsu, Wujin, Jimin, Nayeon, Hyoryung, Isak, Minji, and Joonyoung. However, the person who Cheongsan hoped to be here was nowhere to be seen.

He rushes over to the windows to search for you outside, but all he was met with was total chaos, people running everywhere for their lives as zombies chase after them.

Someone banging on the door catches his attention and he turned around to see white-covered Daesu being let into the classroom by Wujin, who almost closed the door on him. That settled an uneasy feeling within Cheongsan and his stomach twisted, making him nauseous as worry clouded every bit of his being.

He saw you exit the cafeteria before the outbreak happened and haven’t seen you ever since, which only worsened the awful feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Were you bitten? Did you turn? Where were you?

“What happened to your face, huh?” Wujin’s voice snapped Cheongsan out of his thoughts, looking at Daesu who looked like he’s been slapped with a powder or something.

“I don’t know, some crazy jerk sprayed me with fire extinguisher.” Daesu answers while wiping his face with a clean towel he found hanging by the drawers. Onjo avoids eye contact at that. She was spraying fire extinguisher to keep the zombies away, she didn’t know Daesu’s there.

Gyeongsu raised his brows, “A fire extinguisher?”

“Yeah, damn it.” The bigger male pants, resting his hands on his knees after wiping his eyes. “What’s happening?”

“Who knows?”

“Trains.” Cheongsan stated as he approached them, “Train to Busan.”

“The movie?” Daesu gives him a puzzled look.

“Aren’t they zombies? It’s the same thing.” Everyone looked at each other, contemplating whether what Cheongsan’s saying added up. It was crazy, but he kinda has a point. “Watch this, it’s true.” He pointed outside to convince Daesu before pulling him towards the windows when he still doesn’t believe it.

Gyeongsu also tries to walk over, but was reminded by Joonyoung of the door and went back instead to hold it close, curiosity plastered on his face.

“Shit, what the hell?” Wujin curses upon seeing the chaos.

All three of them flinches with a curse when a hand slams on the window in front of them, only to see it’s Suhyeok. They quickly help him get inside and he turns around to hold his hand out to Namra, who you helped rush up the ladder. You were next to climb up quickly as Suhyeok and Namra helps you get inside, barely missing the zombie-turned teacher from getting your leg.

Suhyeok breathes heavily and drops on the floor with his eyes wide in shock, adrenaline wearing off. “It’s that, isn’t it? Zombies.”

You sighed, turning to look outside.

For the first time, you learned minding your own business doesn’t apply to all situations. You would’ve been bitten by those nasty zombies if it wasn’t for Namra — your only actual friend in the campus — coming over to drag you away along with Suhyeok, because you were ignoring people who ran and screamed thinking they’re just playing childishly. She knew you wouldn’t spare anyone a glance, so coming to save you was a right choice.

Cheongsan came to stand beside you while making sure nobody would see your mouths moving. “Are you okay? I was worried.” He said barely above whisper.

“I’m fine, and they can’t get close to me anyway.” You replied, giving him a side-eye. Cheongsan scans your figure to make sure you were saying the truth, before he was annoyingly interrupted by a female body getting herself between you and him.

“Are you okay, (Y/n)?” Nayeon questioned, feigned concern lacing her tone as she pulls your arm to turn you towards her, beginning to run her hand all over your body to check for any injuries. “Are you hurt? What took you so long to come? I texted you.” She pouts.

Irritation quickly bubbled within Cheongsan’s chest at her attempt of making herself look cute and adorable. He forgot the rumors about Nayeon liking you.

With an uninterested look appearing, you quickly grab her wrist to keep her from further harrassing your body. “Keep your hands to yourself, Lee. Can’t you see I’m not bleeding? If I was hurt, there would’ve been blood on me. It should be obvious. And I was too busy reading a book to notice your text.” You waved your hand dismissively as your straightforwardness once again causes everyone to wince.

“That’s gotta hurt for a girl who has a crush on him.” Joonyoung mutters under his breath.

Your eyes shift to Cheongsan’s direction after feeling jealousy radiate from him, and he catches the look that they said— I’m glad you’re here.

That’s right, you don’t care about anyone but him.

“Who the hell does she think she is?”

This class couldn’t get any worse. You thought while sighing deeply as your back leaned on the seat, head thrown back with closed eyes.

This argument between Nayeon and Gyeongsu is a complete nonsense that Nayeon started to get on his nerves for no apparent reason. Giving a fuck is an irrational thing to do when it comes to this stupid girl who does nothing but to whine for others to start doing something. She doesn’t want to save anyone, she wants to be saved.

Talk about self-centered narcissist.

You opened your eyes when Gyeongsu let out a scared yell all of a sudden as the sound of door opening echoed throughout the room, pushing your head forward to look at the person that entered.

“Coach Kang.”

Rolling your eyes, you threw your head back again to stare at the ceiling, finding it more interesting than anyone or anything right in this moment. The Coach is your least favorite person; he’s a fucking egotistical jerk that thinks women are men’s toys. He thinks he’s hiding it well, but you can see it from a mile away.

“Are you guys okay?” Coach Kang’s trembling voice asked and he sighs in relief after Gyeongsu nodded together with everyone else.

Gyeongsu approaches him, albeit hesitantly. “What about you? You weren’t bitten?”

“No. Of course, not. I’m— I’m alright.”

Your brows furrowed. Something’s odd. He shouldn’t have this much difficulty in breathing. Even if he ran all over the campus, his breathing would’ve just been heavy or out of breath. His voice shouldn’t shake this much, as if he’s trying to hide something.

“Hey, guys. Let’s block the door first. Get moving, hurry!” Coach Kang starts to lead the students as they began to help moving the seats to block the doors, attempting to stack them high.

You stood up from the chair but remained in your place, watching him move around and instruct the survivors. There’s a wave of negativity in your gut, like something’s not right, that you shouldn’t trust him too easily. You scan his body thoroughly, until your eyes froze at the nasty bite on his arm.

Your breath hitches. This motherfucker’s gonna kill everyone.

As Onjo and Isak moves to help, you quickly grabbed both of their arm to keep them in place. They looked at you surprised since this is the first time you’ve ever approached anyone by yourself. “What’s wrong?” Onjo asked, and Cheongsan stops after seeing you holding them.

“Don’t get close,” You warned, voice low and whispering. “He got bitten on his arm.”

Their eyes widened and almost instantly, looked at the Coach’s arm to find out you’re telling the truth. But then again, you never lied.

“Coach Kang. Your arm.” Onjo doesn’t hesitate to speak. You gently squeeze her arm in encouragement and praise. Being honest saves everyone, believe it or not.

“What are you doing? Come help us!” The Coach yelled.

“You have a bite mark on your arm!” Onjo raised her voice, causing everyone to freeze and look. Wujin flinches backward when he noticed the bite mark as the others began to feel fearful once again.

Coach Kang sees his own arm and begins to panic. “I wasn’t bitten. No, no. I—” He quickly rolls his sleeve down, “I— I wasn’t bitten.”

“It’s a bite mark.”

“I said it isn’t. Don’t talk back to me, okay?” His voice gets aggressive. You stare at him intently. He shouldn’t get close.

It was Isak who spoke next. “It looks like you were really bitten.”

Coach Kang seems to get angry at that as he raised his voice, “I wasn’t! How many times must I tell you?”

Isak felt you squeeze her arm as well. You wanted her to stand up for herself and her classmates. “Then why the hell are you hiding it!? Just show it to us!” She raised her voice and stepped forward as you went beside Onjo, sharing a look with Cheongsan. You knew she’s important to him.

“I think you should leave now.” Isak quietly said.

“What?”

“Get out of here immediately.”

“You want me to go out there?” Kang pointed at the door, “After all I did to get here? You want me to go back out?”

“You were bitten.” She doesn’t back out. Standing up against teachers is scary, but getting bitten by zombies and turning into one is terrifying. She thanks you internally for encouraging her. “Come on, get out. I SAID GET OUT NOW!!”

“Cocksucker!” Kang yelled. “How dare you yell at me like that?”

You scowled, glaring at him, pulling both Onjo and Isak behind you when Kang steps forward. Your protectiveness usually only kicks in when Cheongsan is the one in danger, but right now, he wasn’t the one that needs protecting. This girls, who can easily be overpowered by the coach.

“You little... Get over here. Come here.” He was showing his true colors at this point, and you clenched your jaw in anger. “NOW! You won’t come? Hey.” He makes a move to advance and you stepped in front of the girls as they quickly hide behind you.

Everyone stops when blood starts to run down Kang’s nose as he turns his back to wipe it.

“Onjo, don’t—!” Onjo ignores your warning, smacking a backpack against the back of his head. You cursed and pulled her back behind you again, watching as Kang turns around and shoots her a glare. Cheongsan immediately rushes over to you, realizing you might get involved in Kang’s rage.

“You fucking bitch.” He cursed, raising a hand and steps forward only to drop on the floor.

You ignored everyone’s gasps and mutterings, turning around to push Cheongsan, Onjo and Isak away knowing he’ll turn. Cheongsan grabs your hand that was pushing him and pulls you so you wouldn’t be close to Kang. The crunching of bones filled the noisy air together with Nayeon’s fearful beg to get Kang out of the room.

Soon enough, a growl erupts from Kang and he launched himself onto Minji, pulling her down on the floor, unfortunately getting a bite of her face. Daesu rushes over to hold zombified Kang back, throwing him on the lockers. You all looked to see a chunk of Minji’s skin beside her mouth gone with blood coating the place.

While Daesu’s in shock, Kang stands back up with a growl and advanced towards Wujin and Suhyeok, who both fortunately avoided him as the latter attempts to fight him off. Cheongsan grabs the table right on his side and uses it to trap Kang against the wall, struggling to do so due to Kang continuously shoving to get a bite out of him.

“Cheongsan!” You and Gyeongsu both yelled as he runs to help and pushes the table more on Kang.

“Shit.” You muttered when Minji begins to turn after getting kicked by Nayeon, feeling the survival folding knife through the fabric of your pants in your pocket.

Using it to kill them would probably make everyone mistaken you for a murderer or perhaps, even torturer, but was that really important when all of your lives are at stake? You don’t give a fuck about everyone except Cheongsan, anyway. But won’t he judge or hate you for bringing a knife at school? Won’t he be afraid of you just like everyone else is?

You thought carefully, before Daesu’s struggling voice snapped you out alongside Cheongsan’s and Gyeongsu’s grunts.

That doesn’t fucking matter. If you don’t kill them with whatever you have, everyone’s gonna be dead, even Cheongsan.

“Whatever,” You sighed. “Fuck this.”

You quickly ran towards the two and pushed them away, ignoring Gyeongsu’s “what are you doing!?” thrown in your direction. Holding the table with one hand, you used the other to whip the knife out and press the two buttons on the handle, the sharp blade instantly making an appearance. Everyone widened their eyes in shock as you don’t hesitate to stab Kang’s head repeatedly with your knife, its force causing his blood to stain your uniform and a small amount of your face. You only stopped when the growling and struggling died down, dropping his completely lifeless body and the table on the floor.

Everyone flinches when you turn around, finding the unbothered and casual look on your face unsettling.

They watch you twirl the knife as you shifted your gaze on Daesu, who was holding zombified Minji that tried to bite him. You cock your head to the side. One slit on the neck should be enough.

Your stare was enough to force Daesu into throwing Minji on the floor as you don’t waste time to grab her hair and stab your knife deep into the side of her neck, before slitting it by sliding the knife towards other side with great force and fast movement. Blood splatters on the floor as she goes limp.

It didn’t even take you thirty seconds to successfully kill two zombies. Maybe you’re more terrifying than those cannibals, everyone thought in sync.

You walk over to the towel that Daesu used to wipe his face with and begins wiping off the blood on your knife, leaning against the lockers. Cheongsan approached you — shrugging Gyeongsu’s alarming hand off his arm — and he sees your body tense almost immediately.

“Did they get to you?”

You look up in surprise at his caring, concern-filled voice.

He gives you a comforting look, having an idea on what you’re feeling right now. You neither regret nor feel guilty about killing them, but you were afraid of a possibility that his thoughts about you might’ve suddenly changed. After all, you’re aware of how even the slightest action can change a person’s thoughts about anyone. Let alone as big of an action as murdering a zombified teacher and classmate.

You silently shake your head, pressing the buttons to make the blade disappear into the handle.

“Then, that’s great.” He smiles, gratitude plastering his face.

“Thank you, for saving us.”

You dropped on the floor as soon as the door of recording room shut behind you, knees growing weak and tears stinging your eyes.

Gyeongsu’s gone. Nayeon did it.

He was Cheongsan’s bestfriend and to think that the girl who liked you was the one who killed him? It fucking made you feel shitty. Guilt devours you from the inside, spreading all throughout your veins and blood as you taste the bitterness in your mouth. There’s no fucking excuse to what she did; Gyeongsu was trying to help and she went all out accusing him of things that didn’t happen — and then goes on killing him without remorse just to prove her point when he didn’t turn.

“You did the same thing to Coach Kang and Minji!” Her voice bitterly haunts your ears.

You did kill them, after they turned into zombies. She wiped a zombie’s blood on Gyeongsu’s hand purposely to make him turn. There’s a big difference. You never wanted Kang and Minji to turn, even though the former pissed you off to no end. No one deserves to be a zombie.

She probably thinks you’re a hypocrite now, maybe even others who stayed quiet the whole time Namra was confronting Nayeon. They must be terrified of you yet they haven’t left you alone to die or kicked you out. Come to remember, they didn’t stop Nayeon from going out on her own.

A knock sounded from the window and you look up to see Cheongsan staring at you worriedly, gesturing to the lock. Unlocking the door, you let him inside by scooting away and watched as he sit beside you after locking it again, leaning both of your back against it.

There was only silence while you two stared blankly at the wall of recording room, grieving over a bestfriend— in your case, a classmate.

“You didn’t do the same thing to Coach Kang and Minji, you know.” He suddenly spoke, breaking the silence. He shifted to face you and also make himself comfortable. “You killed them because you had to, otherwise we would all be dead. Nayeon didn’t have any reason to kill Gyeongsu. Everyone agreed on that.”

“Really?” Your eyes finally met his.

Cheongsan nods with sincerity coating his face. “They understand, and all of them are actually thankful you were brave enough to kill those two. No one thinks you’re the same as Nayeon.” He takes your hand in his and rubs it comfortingly, to which you responded by squeezing his hand back.

You play with his fingers, tracing them and tangling them with yours as you avoid eye contact. “I’m sorry about Gyeongsu...” He frowns at the look on your face. “I noticed something’s wrong with Coach Kang, but I didn’t notice anything when it came to Nayeon. I feel like I should’ve, specially when I’m the one who usually notice small things in this group, and I can’t help but think it’s—”

“It’s not your fault.” Cheongsan immediately interrupted, voice firm and unwavering. “None of us knew what was gonna happen. In fact, I think we’re the ones at fault because we told Nayeon to come here and apologize to Gyeongsu when that was probably what she wanted us to do. You tried to stop us, but we didn’t listen.”

You look up at him, seeing guilt and sadness in his eyes. You intertwined your fingers and Cheongsan doesn’t waste time to hold your hand back. “It isn’t your fault, either. We all carry the burden of not being able to save him, don’t beat yourself up.”

“It’s just—” He sighs. “I’m his best friend. Well, was. I could’ve done something more.”

“But you did, Cheongsan. You kept him from hurting you.” Cupping his face with one hand, you smile to reassure him. “I’m sure the last thing Gyeongsu wanted was to hurt his bestfriend and end up turning him.”

Cheongsan sighs and leans on your touch as he closed his eyes. It feels warm. He believed your words— even you knew Gyeongsu is a kind person who would never dare lay a hand on anyone he treasures. He was poor, but he had the richest heart among all people. Which is why what Nayeon did is even more unforgivable and frustrating.

Why does kind people have to always be the target to cold-blooded people? They might be easy to manipulate, but you still didn’t understand. Why was the world so cruel?

“(Y/n)?” Concern instantly plastered your face at how his voice trembled and he cleared his throat, feeling tears gather in his eyes.

“What is it, love?”

“You’re not gonna leave me, right?”

Cheongsan was afraid. You could easily tell. He was afraid of losing you like he lost Gyeongsu, of seeing you turn into those cannibalistic monsters, of seeing you die. You’re the only thing that kept him sane in this apocalypse. If he lost you, he would have no will to survive anymore.

You frown, wiping off the tears that spilled on his cheeks with your thumb. “I would never leave you, Cheongsan. It’s not gonna happen no matter what. I’ll stay by your side until we can be safe together, okay? Don’t cry, baby.” Bringing your other hand to cup the other side of his face, you gently pulled him to press a kiss on his forehead.

Cheongsan felt butterflies filling his stomach. Even in this zombie apocalypse, you never fail to make him feel loved and tinglish.

No one would probably believe you’re actually this soft and gentle when it comes to your lover. People always assumed you were rough and aggressive, and that you’re far from boyfriend material type. Little did they know you make sure everyday that he knows you love him, even though you can’t be close to each other in school.

You look into each other’s eyes before Cheongsan wrapped his arms around your neck and pulled you close to capture your lips in a lingering kiss.

It’s a life or death situation — feeling each other’s presence and kissing each other’s lips mattered more than hiding your relationship. Nothing should matter anymore than you and Cheongsan, and how you would live knowing the grim reaper can suddenly knock on your door anytime.

Right now, you just wanted to focus on the feeling of Cheongsan’s lips more than the zombies probably lurking outside the broadcasting room.

Gathering around the bonfire created by Namra’s lighter, everyone shared their own stories that no one has heard before. Hearing Namra open up made you smile, knowing she never got to do it with anyone up until now because no one bothered to befriend her. It’s actually why you two got along, being the black sheep of Ms. Park’s class.

You didn’t join them on bonfire, only listening to them share their own life stories as you leaned on the railings with both elbows rested on the surface. After dealing with so much crap and Gwinam going for your boyfriend’s head, you needed a well rest and a smoke to calm yourself, as well as to make the stress dissolve even just a bit. Though, dealing with zombies is honestly much better than dealing with school full of shitty students and teachers.

At some point, their conversation shifts from life story to crushes and you resist the urge to chuckle. Talking about crushes is probably the most mundane yet comforting thing to do in the middle of zombie apocalypse because it gives everyone a feeling as if they went back to a time when everyone wasn’t eating everybody. It reminds them of what they were doing when this apocalypse wasn’t a thing.

“How about you, Cheongsan? Do you have a crush?”

Their question made you puff a smoke as your thoughts wandered. Cheongsan can choose whether he’ll tell them or not, you suppose it doesn’t matter now since practically everyone in Korea is a zombie and not many would care anymore if two men are dating each other. Besides, you also wanted to care for him openly without worrying about someone finding out.

You assume Cheongsan nodded in reply due to various noises of curiosity leaving the other’s lips. He, too, probably doesn’t care anymore.

“Really? Who is it?” Onjo asked with surprise and tease lacing her voice, looking at him and waiting excitedly for his answer. Everyone anticipated it as well, some even growing impatient.

Cheongsan doesn’t say anything, instead points at you, who had your back turned to them.

All of their eyes follows the direction his finger pointed at and as soon as you entered their visions, their jaws drop in sync. Joonyoung looks at his finger and you back and fourth as he also pointed at you, mouth moving but no sounds coming out. Suhyeok had his brows raised, shock evident, staring at Cheongsan in disbelief. Hyoryung, Jimin and Daesu all covered their mouths, while Wujin, Onjo and Namra looked at him dumbfounded.

“You have a crush on (Y/n)!?” Wujin was the first to break everyone’s shock, beginning to look at you and Cheongsan back and fourth.

“How come you didn’t tell us? We shared our opinions about him in cafeteria, but you didn’t say anything about liking him.” Suhyeok shoots him a look, betrayed that Cheongsan hid it from them while they were idiotically telling what they felt and thought about his crush.

“Well, I did say he’s handsome.” Cheongsan defended himself. You subtly shake your head with a smile, realizing he must have said it so his friends would take the hint. “And to be honest, it’s not a crush anymore.” He shrugs.

Confusion is next to appear on everyone’s faces at his words, but Cheongsan stands up before they could ask what he means.

They watch as he walks towards you, and couldn’t help but notice that you immediately faced him as soon as his footsteps entered your ears. You inhaled one puff of smoke and threw the cigarette on the concrete floor. As if on instinct, Cheongsan steps on it to put it out. Your interaction was so natural that had everyone thinking if you often do it when you’re together.

“What’s up, Cheongsannie?”

He doesn’t respond, instead brings his hand up to tug your uniform with a pout. It’s a gesture he always does when he wants you to kiss him.

Without hesitation, you slip your hand on his face and leans forward to capture his adorable pouting lips in a kiss as Cheongsan closed his eyes, fist gripping the fabric of your uniform. You heard few of them gasp before you pulled away and ruffled your lover’s hair.

“Satisfied?” You smirk, licking your lips.

Cheongsan smacks your hand away and grumbles about you ruining his already ruined hair, red tint on his cheeks unfortunately visible. His heart pounded rapidly against his chest at first time kissing in front of people.

“Don’t worry, darling. You still look handsome with ruined hair and blood all over you.” Throwing him a teasing compliment, you leaned forward again to kiss his forehead, something that became a habit of yours after you started dating him.

“Fuck you,” Cheongsan playfully curses while pinching your side and shoving you away, though the smile on his face betrayed him.

You scoffed smugly, “You wish. We’re still in the middle of apocalypse, moron.”

“(Y/N)!!”

You laughed, avoiding his hand that tried to smack you over the head and runs over to the bonfire when Cheongsan starts chasing you, using Daesu as a shield. Now, all of them were shocked of how playful you are — a big contrast to how you are in school everyday.

“(Y/n), stop hiding behind Daesu.” Cheongsan panted as he glared at you playfully.

You childishly stuck your tongue out, which made Cheongsan roll his eyes while amusement crosses everyone’s face. “Only if you can make him move away.” You said smugly, knowing no one can force Daesu to move.

Your boyfriend gives you a look before shifting his gaze on Daesu, “Can you move, please?”

Much to your displeasure, the said man scoots away without hesitation and chuckles when he hears your gasp of betrayal. “What the— You traitor!” You smacked his arm quite strongly, causing him to wince and hold the arm that you hit.

Everyone laughs; it feels weird to see you be childish and playful when you’re usually calm, collected, cold and quiet, but they were happy nevertheless because you finally showed a side that you never did. However, they find it also sad how this is the only time they got to see you be playful, when they have just little chances of surviving. They regret fearing you just because you look intimidating. You may have a resting bitch face, but that doesn’t mean you hurt everybody on sight. They should’ve figured that out before.

Cheongsan comes to sit beside you (after successfully smacking the back of your head) with a yawn, exhaution finally showing itself on his body. Your eyes softened as you tugged his arm and Cheongsan let himself fall to your side. His head softly lands on your lap, facing the night sky, and you immediately bring your hand to massage his scalp. Cheongsan sighs in content, closing his eyes.

“Rest, darling. You need it.” You softly say. Everyone can’t help but stare at how gentle you are with Cheongsan.

“You need to rest too,” Cheongsan mutters with eyes still closed. “You and Suhyeok fought those zombies off more than we did.” He feels you shake your head.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re all the same in terms of exhaution.” You take his hand in your unused one to press a kiss on his knuckles. He opens his eyes, feeling butterflies clouding his stomach again. “And besides, I have to protect you from Gwinam. He’s after your head, who knows when he’ll come back.”

“He’s actually after my eye, but you don’t need to protect me all the time, you know.” Intertwining his fingers with yours, Cheongsan looks at you with worry in his eyes. “If you keep thinking about me, you’ll eventually forget to protect yourself. I don’t want you to get hurt or bitten.”

A smile spreads across your lips.

He might be right and it’s probably too dangerous to think about your boyfriend before yourself when zombies can grab you anywhere and anytime, but knowing he’s worried made you feel happy, warmth spreading from your heart outwards.

Cheongsan notices your smile and lightly hits your shoulder with his free hand, pouting. “Why the hell are you smiling? You rarely smile yet you’re smiling at the possibility that you could die protecting me. It’s not funny. Stop that.”

You only let out a chuckle in response to his scolding.

The others can’t help but smile when they heard the sound of your laughter for the first time as Cheongsan continues to simultaneously threat and scold you at the same time, refusing to stop until you swear you’ll look after yourself too. They found yours and Cheongsan’s couple interaction cute and entertaining, some even feeling as if they missed an opportunity to tease the two of you when zombies didn’t exist. It made them feel sad, but at least they found out before it’s too late and could still have an opportunity to tease.

“If you really—”

“Relax, sweetheart.” You interrupted, giving his hand a squeeze. He opens his mouth to object, but you beat him to it. “If you really think I’m going to forget about myself, then protect me instead. That way, we could prevent the worst from happening, hm? How does that sound?”

Cheongsan goes silent as he thinks about it for a while, then squeezed your hand back to let you know he settled his mind. “Okay. Sounds good enough.”

You grinned, leaning down to kiss his lips before petting his hair after pulling away. Greatly satisfied with your suggestion, Cheongsan closes his eyes to get himself to sleep, his free arm wrapping around your torso as he snuggled closer to you, wanting to feel your presence as much as he can. Shrugging your blazer off, you laid it over him to serve as a blanket.

“This is our first time seeing you smile,” Suhyeok spoke when silence fell. You look up to see a soft look plastered on his face. “I don’t mean to tell you what to do, but you should smile more.”

The others nodded their head in agreement. “You look good smiling.” Jimin compliments, receiving another nods of agreement from everyone.

You shrug, “I naturally don’t smile that often. He makes me laugh everytime, though. If you want any reaction out of me, just bring Cheongsan and let us talk. You’ll get a smile or laughter.”

“That’s probably because you trust him more than anyone else.” Onjo smiled, eyes soft. You nod while smiling, gently playing with Cheongsan’s hair.

“You don’t trust anyone that much.” Claimed Joonyoung. “So seeing you be freely yourself around us, it made me think how we gained it over the times we’ve spent together in this zombie apocalypse. Thanks for, you know... Trusting us.”

You flash them a smile. “Thanks for trusting me, too.”

Maybe letting your secret out wasn’t such a bad thing even before the apocalypse, with an exception of those gangs you beat up that may or may not use Cheongsan as hostage to get back at you.

Nonetheless, you were glad that your boyfriend had revealed everything out in the open — you’ve gained not many, but enough support. You’ll forever cherish this day, even if there’s little hope left to survive.

© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ғᴀʟʟᴇɴᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀs. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.

[writingssummit]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚.

𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴

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𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘩𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘵.  

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1.8𝘬  

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ! 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘶 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘪 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵’𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 ! 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘥𝘢 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵, "𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵". 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘭. 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘪 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘰3? 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵. 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘶- 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘣𝘤 𝘳𝘯 𝘪’𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢- 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘯 :𝘋

like any other day, you’re sitting at the counter, twisting the straw wrapper between your thumb and index finger while reading over something on your laptop. the homey diner is quiet today, which is unusual for the place; it’s not often that the place isn’t super busy. but you welcome the quiet with open arms, since you’re actually trying to focus for once. work has been piling up in class lately, and it was sort of hard to keep up with. but these things came with college, so..could you really complain?

you’re a regular at the diner, you stopped keeping track a while ago, considering that you go so often. it’s a comfy spot, many locals come as well. so why find a reason, aside from the fact that the place has a really good homemade cherry coke? aside from the busy atmosphere it usually held, it’s also nice to just come here and work on your papers, your research-

you slide over a few dollars as compensation, and not soon after, a glass slides back over to you in return. “hey, careful! i can’t afford to buy another computer, you know!” you frown in the direction where it came from.

“right, my bad.” your silver-haired server leans on his side of the counter, a cheeky grin on his face. you take a sip, looking straight back. 

“why are you staring at me like that, bokuto-san?” you bite the straw. the man is always around and making jokes, smiling, and attempting to make you laugh- but the look he’s wearing is reserved for certain reasons, or future events. and that didn’t sit well with you.

“no reason, no reason.” he taps the wood with his knuckles, his gaze unfaltering. and to be honest, now it looks a bit foreboding. you don’t like it.

“i smell bullshit.” you point a finger at the cheerful man, and he raises his hands up in defense. 

“i told you, it’s nothing, yeah? say, how long are you staying today?” you chose to ignore his blatant attempt at a topic change. you check the time on the clock, pursing your lips in thought. how long could you stay? you aren’t in any particular hurry, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have other things to do. 

not that you’ll actually leave to do them.

“mm, probably a little longer. not too late though, i need to go home at some point.” you mutter, and then turn your attention back to the screen. you notice something inconsistent in your writing, and then rush to fix it. all you can hear is the clacking of the keyboard, and the faint sizzling and bangs in the kitchen. 

his grin widens out of the corner of your eye. “the boss wants to ask you something.” you don’t even hesitate when you shake your head. nope. you were not up for that today. or ever, really.

“no. no way. i already told him before, and the time before that, the time before that- how many times do i need to say it?” you snap, and then you both hear a clash in the back.

“i’m okay!” you hear matsukawa, the cook, a moment after. you and bokuto share a quick look, before he pushed himself away from the counter.

“he better not have spilled shit again, or akaashi will get upset- hold that thought, l/n!” and before you could even reply, he sped towards the kitchen.

your life could be considered a boring one, if you took out the visits to the american-inspired restaurant. you didn’t hate it, really. it was simple, and that was fine. you went to classes, worked hard to earn your degree; you were majoring in mathematics, with a goal to get a job as an astronomer.

a big dream, one that you know is difficult- but even if it was going to be worthless, with the amount of years you plan on putting into school? you’ll be just fine, as long as there is somebody who’d hire you with your future creds. at the expense of enough freetime, but that was just the price to pay. 

but you often spent as much time as humanly possible here, because it took some stress off of your shoulders. if you were going to spend most of your week studying and working, at least you could do it in a place you liked. which in turn led to you learning a lot about the establishment and people inside it. it’s fairly new, and the owner happened to be absent from the building a lot; but he worked hard. he’d apparently gone to college in the united states. hence the american styled food, theme, all of it. 

it was strange compared to all of the other little shops around, but it was unique that way.

and of course, you all were decently close, but it’s not like you knew any of them prior to coming here. it was really just because you were there so much, that you were able to build friendships with the workers.

bokuto being the first and most rambunctious of them all. he was almost always behind the counter, chatting up the guests, which includes you very often. but that’s the fun part of it all, it makes your stays interesting.

“oi, what’s going on!” the office door suddenly swooshed open, followed by a string of curses in the kitchen. out came their manager, the resident pretty boy of the group, as the rest dubbed him. you couldn’t help but laugh quietly as he makes his way to the back. they were in for a scolding.

“akaashi, this isn’t what it looks like, we were just-”

“bokuto-san, this is the 3rd time this week..”

there’s more bickering for a few minutes, and you just went back to sipping at your drink. you’re bored now, with nobody to really talk to; and the noise from the kitchen was making it hard to concentrate suddenly.

the bell suddenly dings behind you, and you turn your head a little to get a better view-

only to groan under your breath.

“l/n-chan, you’re here! good, i wanted to ask..” you want to bang your head on the table. repeatedly.

“oikawa, i say this as respectfully as possible, but please, i don’t want to be set up right now. or ever. especially if it’s you doing it.”

“you’ll say yes this time, please just hear me out!” he begs, grabbing your shoulders. if this hadn’t been the thousandth time he’s said this, you would’ve laughed. but only a little. you attempt to shrug his hands off of you, but without success. his grip is a bit too strong.

oikawa, the manager, has designated himself as the godly matchmaker. apparently, he was able to help out some of his friends with their things. but that wasn’t anything to brag about, if he had no proof. much less dub himself with such a title.

you gave oikawa the stink eye, while he just stuck his lip out in a pout.

“get me another, and i’ll hear you out.” you gave into his puppy face. he knew just how to get you, the bastard. letting go of you finally, he takes the glass with a hum to the other side of the counter.

“perfect! okay, so..this time, he’s a piercer-” he looks up as he’s filling the cup with some grenadine syrup. he knows exactly how much you like in it at this point. you’re watching him, but when he mentions the piercings, you just stare at him with a blank look. “..don’t give me that look.” he scowls.

“my look isn’t hurting you.” you respond simply, and he rolls his eyes, but clears his throat to continue. he’s now moving on to the coke part.

“he’s a piercer, and oh holy lord, he has some himself-”

“oh my god.” this guy is ridiculous. “i don’t care about that, just keep going or i won’t listen anymore.”

“you hurt me a lot, why do i even try to set you up?” he grumbled. “anyways. mr. tongue piercing is pretty eager to date right now, i gave him a little description of you..and he’s interested!” you raise an eyebrow. “look, just one date! if he’s an ass, i’ll get iwa-chan to beat the shit out of him if it’s necessary.” 

that’s comforting, to an extent. you didn’t know how you felt about a guy you barely knew coming down to his restaurant just to punch another random guy, but it’s the thought that counts, you guess. oikawa just wants you to be happy, and liven you up more- because as he says, you don’t do much besides study, and hang out at the diner. you don’t have anybody else to be around either, so that kind of just enforces the routine. not that you don’t have the opportunity to meet anybody, you just don’t want to.

and so he tries to make you.

“because we won’t be young for long!” a normal oikawa saying.

to be honest, the idea of seeing somebody is nice. you’ve thought about it before, but you honestly couldn’t care less right now- and the fact that you’re so busy with classes just makes it inconvenient. and the thought of unrooting the routine you’d gotten so accustomed to? it made you nervous. as much as you were lonely regarding the relationship aspect of your life, you didn’t know how you felt about being set up with a guy right now.

but, maybe you should at least try to be out there more. especially if it’ll get oikawa off your ass about it.

“maybe.” you finally say, which earns you a cheer, and a new glass of cherry coke.

there’s another crash.

“i guess that’s my cue to go straighten those three up, hm?~” he chuckles, but it doesn’t sound too amused. and then, oikawa joins them. 

you take this as your time to depart too. you end up leaving a tip, and a half-finished glass behind you. oikawa better at least text you what he looks like, because he hadn’t even bothered to tell you anything besides the fact that he has a tongue piercing. and there’s no way you’ll totally agree without knowing a bit more than a piece of metal in somebody’s skin.

is that really attractive? you don’t want to think about it, in case you actually do think it is.

why is that even a thought in the first place? you scold yourself in your head, trying to not delve into it any more than you need to.

your phone dings, and you reach down to check who texted. 

𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖: 𝚘𝚒𝚔𝚊𝚠𝚊   𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠 ~

you have half the mind to not show up now.

[tetedurfarm]

Do you have any advice for getting into keeping rabbits? I was looking into getting a couple for meat production and possibly starting to learn to tan pelts but I don’t want to get confused over all the conflicting info on the internet about wire flooring and such things.

ugh, it’s so frustrating, isn’t it?  with pretty much every other animal you can just google “how to raise x” and get tons of good advice, but the rabbit results are dominated by HRS forums that will crucify you for even mentioning breeding, much less meat production. 

so here’s some points i’ve learned from experience to help you out:

1. wire flooring is not evil.  in fact it’s great.  it’s clean, it’s sanitary, there’s airflow if you use it in a hutch, and if you do it right you won’t have foot problems (unless you’re raising rex or giant breeds, but even then there’s easy fixes like my lattice mats.)

here’s what you’re looking for:  1″x0.5″ grid 16g - 14g wire.  if you order your cages from a manufacturer like Bass Equipment (my preferred cagemaker,) or Klubertanz, this will come standard.  if you make your own cages or buy from a feed store, it’s a bit more hit and miss.  

make sure the half-inch wires are on top when you build your cages, so the weight is distributed properly:

see how the smaller gaps are “on top”?

vs this side.  (shoutout to me having like twenty cages all in pieces in my living room to get these nice reference pics ;p)

i also recommend you get your floors galvanized after weld; they’ll last a long longer that way!

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2. babysaver wire is called that for a reason.  babysaver is when there’s a 1x0.5 grid near the bottom of a cage.  it’s there to keep kits from falling out of the cage, and helps prevent predators from easily pulling kits out.

this is a cage with babysaver.  it does what it’s meant to.  i use these for my doe cages, and even if a kit gets dragged out of the nest, as long as i find it in time, it’ll survive because it didn’t roll out and get snatched by something off the ground.

vs one without:

i use these for bucks and my growout pens for older kits.  they are cheaper than babysaver cages, but it’s worth the money to keep your babies safe.

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3. invest in a good pair of j-clip pliers.  even if you buy prefab cages, often times they’re cheaply made and you’ll need to fill in gaps so they don’t fall apart so easily.  it’s also good to keep them around just because, because after a while the clips can get rusty and fall off, and you’ll need to replace them occasionally.

good on left, not so good on right.  the ones on the left cost my about fifteen bucks from my favourite hilariously-named rabbit supply site:  Rabbitnipples.com.  the ones on the right were like $8 at my local feed store.  so a significant markup, but VERY worth it.  the good pliers are more comfortable to hold in your hand, and make much nicer/more secure crimps than the cheap ones.  i often have to crimp clips twice or more with cheap pliers, because of the way they’re shaped:

the good pliers have a solid mouth that make a clean loop with no pointy outy bits.  and they can double as removers if you mess one up!

this is topical because i lost my good pliers and had to order new ones, and in the meantime i built four cages and my palms are so sore/bruised from the cheap pliers.  don’t be like me.

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4. vets kinda aren’t worth it.  one of the things you’ll see on HRS sites is that vets are ABSOLUTELY necessary.  i don’t hate vets, but they chronically have no idea how to treat rabbits, often making them worse or causing them to die because they administered a med that’s safe for cats but not rabbits.  they also often subscribe to HRS rhetoric that pellets are evil and rabbits should only eat hay and greens, which is…wrong (i’ll get to that in a minute.)  if you can find a good vet it may be worth it for one or two rabbits, but once you get into the double-digits, it’s just not worth it.  exotics vets are expensive, and i can’t afford $50 just for a consult for thirty rabbits.  learn how to treat everyday ailments like sore feet, wounds, abscesses, eye infections, stasis/bloating, and birthing issues on your own.  i suggest joining up with a meat rabbit forum (i like rabbittalk.net,) and going through their articles on rabbit medicine and herbology.  if i can’t fix it myself, that rabbit is soup.  and if a rabbit chronically has health issues, don’t use it as a breeder.  bad immune systems/teeth/feet/etc are hereditary.

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5. things will die.  get used to it.  with livestock comes deadstock.  if you can’t handle animals dying, including newborn babies, or having to euthanize animals (including newborn babies,) don’t get livestock.  if you can’t look your food in the eye and thank it for its sacrifices, then don’t get livestock.  this is not a place for bleeding hearts.

–

6. don’t breed a new doe by herself.  rabbits are running on hormones only for their first litters, and sometimes they mess it up.  having an experienced doe kindle alongside her that you can foster to gives the new doe’s kits the best chance of survival in case she doesn’t get it quite right.  this ties in with the last point, though - you’re gonna have dead babies.  sometimes you have to make the babies dead yourself, because mama screwed up and the foster already has eight of her own.  not everyone has a n’rithaa who can nurse nineteen and not break a sweat, and the kindest thing to do is pick the strongest and cull the weaker ones so mama doesn’t have so many to feed.

–

7. feed them pellets until you know what you’re doing.  pellets are formulated to be perfect nutrition for rabbits.  they are the healthiest option imo, and definitely the easiest.  it can take a few tries to find a feed that works for you, but they’re generally not too expensive and if your animals keep weight and make babies, then they’re fine.  trying to feed fodder only is expensive, time-consuming, and often ends up with animals not getting enough vitamins that cause bone issues, bloating, and tooth problems.  i am 100% convinced this is at least half of the reason why you see a lot of house rabbits that go into stasis a lot and have bad teeth.  (The other half is they’re always poorly bred byb rabbits, but that’s another conversation.)  fodder can be done well, but unless you really have the time/resources to grow appropriate plants or have a lot of pasture to graze on (and no worms/cocci or other bad things in your soil,) pellets and hay are perfect.  especially if you show.

–

8. if you wanna get into tanning, just get a synth tan, and don’t expect fur rabbits to be an ideal meat producer.  fur doesn’t prime until the animal is about six months old, and typically you’ll be slaughtering them for meat around 12 or 16 weeks.  so if you want to produce fur, either stop caring about the quality of your hides, or get ready to spend more in feed while you grow them to prime.  i know it’s popular to use rabbits as a dual-purpose animal, but you need to set expectations lol.  so far i’ve found rabbits that are half rex produce really nice furs before “prime” age, but they still take longer to grow out than my meat-specific rabbits.  dual purpose really just means “not that great at one or both purposes.”

also just don’t even bother with brain/egg tanning and get you a synth tan like Rittel’s or Trubond.  “natural” tans have too much of a learning curve, require smoking to make them waterproof, and the results are subpar.  synth tans are cheap, easy, usually safe to put down a train if you’re on city water/toss outside if you’re on septic, and will produce a waterproof skin that’ll last forever.  

also alum isn’t a tan.  if you get it wet it’ll start rotting again.  if you wanna make clothes or rugs, use a real tan.  please.  i beg of you.

–

9. auto-water systems are godly but don’t waste your money on expensive ones.  if you don’t know this, i’m disabled, and i like to make things easy on myself so i’m not having to fill 39458639458 bottles a day.  it sucks.  auto-water systems are SUPER convenient because you only have to refill the reservoir every few days and keep an eye on the nipples to make sure they aren’t clogged.

the problem is:  they leak.  all the time.  forever.  when i first got started i used cheap water nipples from amazon and was annoyed at how often they’d start leaking, or were leaking right out of the package.  so i switched to the more expensive Edstrom system that you can order online from places like rabbitnipples.com, bunnyrabbit.com, the bean farm, and bass equipment.  problem is, those leaked just as bad, and the edstrom water nipples cost FIVE DOLLARS EACH.  when half the nipples leak directly out of the box, i’ve just wasted $20+.  at least the ones from amazon are like $20 for a bag of 100.  if they’re all gonna leak anyway, at least i won’t go broke having to replace them all.

–

i can’t think of anything else off top my head so i’mma cap it here.  i’ve been doing this for five years and learned many many things the hard way so hopefully you won’t have to!

[mistymark]

the one with the keycard.

jung jaehyun x reader // 2.9k words // masterlist // send requests here

summary; in which the heater breaks in the hotel room and y/n is really cold. like really cold.

warnings; fluff at the end, mild angst (?), they just hate each other tbh, too much eye rolling, PROFANITY CHILDREN LOOK AWAY

requested; y u p // “Hi i really liked your enemies to lovers fic of yuta if u find some time can u pls do the same with jaehyun him being the lead cos hes my man hahaha:( thanks in advance ^^”

notes; I rlly love bed sharing aus omg // I actually read through it !!! so its Mildly edited !!!

“Don’t do this,” you begged Doyoung, eyeing the second hotel keycard that he was strategically holding by his side, away from you. 

He tried to hand you the other keycard again, the hotel room number matching the one on the door beside you, “It’ll be good for you two. Maybe you’ll actually be able to get along after this.”

When you huffed at him, blowing your hair out of your face in the process, he rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand, placing the keycard into it and closing your fingers around it. “I hate you, you know,” you pouted at him as he started making his way down the hall.

He held up his hands in defeat, “Look, I didn’t allocate rooms. I just lost rock paper scissors.” So they planned this, you thought. Devils.

When he disappeared into his room, that he shared with Johnny, you looked around; all the other guys had already entered their shared rooms and you wondered who would be willing to swap.

[18:32] y/n: any1 want to become the loml and switch rooms with me :)))

[18:33] mark: no

[18:33] jungwoo: no

[18:33] donghyuck: lmao

[18:33] donghyuck: also no

You rolled your eyes as the messages continued from the rest of the group and opened the door using the keycard Doyoung had forced you to take.

“What the hell!” You were startled by the deep voice you were greeted with, its loudness immediately shocking you, freezing you in place as you watched Jaehyun quickly throw his shirt over his head. When you finally looked away, down at the floor, you let the door shut behind you as you dragged your suitcase into the room, letting it rest against the wall of the small corridor. “I was changing,” his tone is still slightly aggressive.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not really sorry at all. He watched you for a moment before looking back down at his suitcase on the bed and zipping it back up, walking over to you to place it beside yours, almost pushing up against you in order to fit it between the table and your own case.

“So,” he starts, looking up and down your body obviously. He’s still way too close for your liking, having not yet stepped away after putting his suitcase down, “they weren’t kidding.”

“Unfortunately,” you deadpan, making your way to the bed Jaehyun had previously been standing at the edge of and dumping your stuff on it.

“Maybe someone will switch with- Hey!” He jutted his chin up at you from where he was standing in the entryway of the bathroom.

“What?” You raise your eyebrow at him, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

He points at the bed you were now happily plopping yourself down on the end of, “That’s my bed.”

“Oh, really?” You narrow your eyes at him as you dramatically turn from side to side, looking for something. “Because I don’t see your name on it.”

He cocks his head to the side at you, his face serious, “I had my stuff on it.”

You smile cheerily, telling him in a sing-song voice that, “Well, now my stuff is on it.”

Jaehyun just turns from you, already heading into the bathroom, “I’m gonna shower before we leave.” He pokes his head around the door, “Don’t come in.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you furrow your brows at him in disgust, rolling your eyes when he shuts the door, a little too loudly.

The restaurant Johnny had picked out for dinner was conveniently located beside your hotel, and somehow you had managed to finish your hair and makeup at the same time Jaehyun had finished showering and dressing.

“Put the heater on before you leave,” you say, not looking at him as you step out of the room, slipping your keycard into your clutch, your jacket sitting securely in the crook of your arm.

“Do it yourself,” he makes his way towards you, flipping open his wallet to make sure he had his own keycard. You don’t say anything and let the door close between you, opting to make your way to the elevators instead.

Looking up from his wallet, he realises you’ve already left and his jaw sets in frustration, begrudgingly turning on the heater before reopening the door and following you to the elevators.

You try to minimise your reaction when you realise he’s walking to the elevator at the exact moment it arrives, and without even hiding it you press the ‘close doors’ button, a smirk on your face.

He fixes his gaze on you as he slips between the metal doors, the two of you silently agreeing not to talk the entire ride down to the lobby. Instead, you stand in silence, facing the mirrored doors. It’s the first time you’ve properly been able to see what he’s wearing, having refused to give him the satisfaction of catching you staring back in your shared room.

He has a jacket hung over his arm, and the fact that you’re doing the same thing annoys you slightly. The white shirt he’s wearing is unbuttoned, but tucked into his black pants. You noticed he hadn’t bothered styling his hair, focusing mostly on his clothes and occasionally applying random products to his face in the mirror in the bathroom. Yet, still, his hair looked perfect. It made you mad how good he looked with such little effort.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he smirks, his eyes flitting to yours in the dirty reflection of the elevator door.

“So original,” you deadpan, stepping out of the elevator as it arrives at the lobby. You can see Doyoung and Johnny making their way out of the hotel ahead of you. They must have caught the elevator just before us, you thought.

Due to his longer legs, Jaehyun easily overtakes you, not even sparing you a glance as he paces his way towards the doors. Narrowing your eyes at his retreating figure, you quicken your pace, huffing as you get to the revolving door at the same time as him, pushing on the glass and forcing yourself out before him as soon as the gap is wide enough. 

You end up ahead of him, briskly walking towards the restaurant, unable to see the smug smirk that’s taken over his face as he jogs to catch up to you, “Trying to beat me? How childish, y/n.”

“I just don’t want to be late,” you lie, looking in your purse for your phone, having forgotten to put on your watch before leaving the room.

He reaches the door before you still and opens it widely, waiting for you with a grin. You quirk an eyebrow at him as you go to walk inside, before he salutes you, slipping in ahead and allowing the door to shut in your face.

You glare at him as he laughs, immediately catching the attention of the waitress at the front desk and asking her where Johnny’s table was. She eagerly smiles at him, already entranced by his godly looks - did you really just say that? - and shows him to the table. You huff as you wrench the door open and stalk after them, following Jaehyun to the table.

When you arrive, you’re greeted with hello’s from Johnny, Doyoung and Taeyong, who had already arrived. Jaehyun turned around as soon as they called your name, and offered you a smile, a challenging sparkle in his eye, “Oh, y/n! How nice of you to join us.”

You smiled when Johnny elbowed him in the side, and hung your jacket off the chair at the other end of the table from where Jaehyun was sitting. You smile warmly at Johnny, “Lovely restaurant choice, Johnny Suh. Shouldn't have expected anything less.”

You engage in polite conversation with Johnny and Taeyong, as Doyoung and Jaehyun converse at the opposite end of the table. When the rest arrive, almost all together nearly five minutes later, you order food, opting to purchase a bunch of share plates. While you wait for the food, you laugh with Donghyuck when Mark rants about how much he hates rooming with Donghyuck. “I’d switch with you, but we both snore so,” Mark shrugs, his eyes sympathetic.

You laugh, “No, it’s okay. Rooming with Jaehyun isn’t so bad.”

Hearing you say his name immediately catches Jaehyun’s attention, and his eyes are intense as he tries to work out what you had said, not hearing anything other than his name from the other side of the long table. You narrow your eyes at him, and he does the same before looking back at Jungwoo, his eyes immediately softening at the smiling boy, his smile sweet. Part of you would kill to have him look at you the same way. No, it wouldn't, you correct yourself.

When the food arrives, perfectly timed to be served together on a wheeled cart, there’s chaos as everyone tries to get what they want, until Taeyong suggests everyone moves to where their favourite foods are. You stay seated, your favourite dish sitting right in front of you, and you pout as Mark gets up to go sit on the other side of Johnny.

“What? There’s pizza,” he grins, the seat beside you now vacant.

You could tell who replaced him immediately by the smell of his cologne, which you had watched him apply at the desk in your hotel room.

“What are you doing?” You look at him, and he doesn’t miss the mixture of concern and surprise in your eyes.

“I like this,” he states simply and holds up the bowl right beside him, eagerly scooping the food onto his plate with his chopsticks.

You both talked to the other people beside you rather than each other, the dinner continuing with only a few glares and profanities. You can feel one of your shoes slipping off your ankle and you reach down to fasten it, your foot accidentally slipping off your knee when you lose grip of the strap, kicking the table leg quite harshly.

You hiss and grab the toe of your shoe at the same time Jaehyun groans in pain, his hand immediately reaching under the table to rub his leg. Needless to say, you hadn’t kicked the table’s leg, but rather Jaehyun’s. 

“What the fuck, y/n,” he says through gritted teeth, obviously still in pain.

“Sorry, my foot slipped,” you stutter, your eyes wide in shock.

He nudges your knee with his, his jaw set, “Oops. Accident.”

Johnny, who’s sitting beside him, grips his arm, “Dude. Just drop it. She probably didn’t mean it.”

“Probably,” he mutters, going back to eating, purposefully not looking at you.

After dinner and dessert and a walk around the streets of the city, abandoned at this time of night, you all decide to call it a night, walking back through the lobby doors of your hotel.

“Remember, we have to be up early tomorrow to head to the airport, since it’s an early flight,” Doyoung looks pointedly at Donghyuck. “No staying up late.”

You hear Donghyuck mutter to Mark, “He knows I don’t give a shit what he says, right?”

“You better fucking fall asleep or I’m gonna kill you,” Mark hisses back, and you try to contain your laughter as they both try to hold back their own, with Donghyuck failing miserably.

The elevators are slightly too crowded with all of you, so you opt to catch the second elevator with Donghyuck and Mark, joking with them about how Donghyuck won’t fall asleep until almost 5am. You don’t even realise Jaehyun is still standing with you that you're almost surprised to see him standing outside your door when you say goodnight to the youngest members of your group.

He doesn’t say anything as he opens the door for you, and you’re immediately met with a cool breeze, making you shiver, “What the-”

“I told you to turn on the heater,” you immediately turn to Jaehyun, narrowing your eyes accusingly.

“I did,” he spits back, walking into the room to look at the control panel. You follow him and nudge him lightly to make him move. He looks down at you with a slight frown but moves nonetheless. He flicks the switch that changes the heater from ‘cool’ to ‘heat’, the button now useless. “It’s broken.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” you spit, immediately moving to the desk and picking up the phone, searching the directory for the number of the front desk.

“No one’s going to pick up,” he shrugs, opting to switch off the ‘heater’ so it won't continue blowing out cold air.

You turn to him and open you mouth to reply, but he beats you to it, “Y/n, it’s almost midnight. They’ll all have gone home already.”

You exhale, realising he’s right and letting your arm drop the phone back into its place. “Fine. Um,” you look helplessly at the open suitcase on your bed, all your clothes more suited to hot weather than cold.

You both change silently, alternating bathroom usage to prepare for bed, and from the heated bathroom, you run from the open door to your bed, diving under the covers and shivering slightly.

From his bed, you hear him mumble sleepily, “Can you turn the light off, please?” You reach out and turn off the light above your bed, the light in the bathroom still on. “Y/n. The light.”

“It’s the bathroom light, gimme a sec,” you huff and throw the covers back, slipping off the bed and walking to the bathroom. Jaehyun had been in the bathroom before you, so you hadn’t turned on the light, and that meant that now you were trying to look for the switch.

“Y/n,” you hear Jaehyun say. When he doesn’t get a response, he sits up in his bed, turning around to search for you. Rolling his eyes at your stupidity, he gets up and walks to the set of switches beside the door, flicking off the light to the bathroom.

“God?” You whisper, and he feels his lips twitch up in the corners at the funny comment, before suppressing it.

“Well, me,” he says from outside the bathroom, “But same thing, I guess.” He smiles; he can practically hear you rolling your eyes at his comment.

When you walk out of the bathroom, your bed is closest so you easily find it, hugging yourself to preserve what little heat you have. There’s a small thud and the sound of Jaehyun groaning again, and you cant help but giggle at him.

“Right where you kicked me, too,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Goodnight, Jaehyun,” you make a point of saying goodnight, subtly telling him to shut up.

“Whatever, y/n,” you hear the rustling of the sheets as he gets into bed.

Hours later, you can’t tell exactly what time it is, but you woke up because you were just so cold. You’d put on extra layers before bed, but it felt as though the temperature had actually decreased since you’d first gone to sleep.

You wriggle around under the covers, trying to pull the duvet over your neck tightly, before huffing and kicking the covers off you. You stood up and grabbed the duvet from the bed, rustling slightly as you wrapped yourself in it, forming a white bedsheet burrito. You threw yourself onto the bed and tried to get comfortable again.

You had already closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to consume you again, when you felt your teeth chattering once again. You were surprised to hear the sound of rustling of sheets from the other bed, and a short huff as Jaehyun stood up. He’d only gone to sleep in a pair of sweatpants and a black tank top, but he seemingly had no issue with facing the frigid winds of your hotel room.

You assumed he had just needed to go to the bathroom, but you could just make out his figure as he picked you up, the sheets wrapped around you falling as he threw you onto his bed. You let out a small yelp before appreciating the warmth of his bed. You were shocked when he climbed in beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against him. You felt your eyes widen, “J-Jaehyun-”

“Just shut up and sleep,” he mumbled, his eyes already closing, and his head leant down slightly so that his cheek rested against the top of your head.

You were surprised by how easily you became comfortable with him; the guy you had fought with, argued with, raced against, rolled your eyes at. The guy that hated your guts was now sleeping in the same bed as you. And you actually enjoyed it. You were sure now, Jaehyun was hot in every sense of the word, his body heat easily warming you, his natural scent encasing you, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on your arm was the only sign he hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

“You’re not so bad, Jung Jaehyun,” you mumbled against his chest, your hand playing with the fabric of his shirt in the dark. Even through the material, you could feel his stomach tense at your touch.

“What did I just say, y/n,” he replied, his other hand reaching to his stomach to rest on top of yours, stilling your movements. When you let your hand fall limp, he didn’t remove his hand, and it was a shame it was dark and you couldn’t see the smile of contentment that had made its way onto his face as he fell asleep with you in his arms.

[captainlordauditor]

300x3 7:02

300 words 3 times a week etc

I wrote this Tuesday and then just..completely forgot to post it. This is I guess the thing I’m gonna be poking at when I need a break from earth 988 but I’m staying in Batman? It’s basically the same concept of messing around with the timeline by moving up a character’s birth several years but with Jason, so I’ve labeled it earth 488. Timeline’s not super worked out so the ages are subject to change. 1729 words.

Warnings for brief mentions of drugs, CSA, etc, standard Batman warnings I guess

The kid’s in college when Bruce first meets him, or rather he should be; instead he’s hotwired the Batmobile and taken it for a ride, and Batman finds him several streets away from where he left it, grinning fit to burst, classic rock blaring out the open windows. He slams the brakes when he sees the local cryptid in front of him and stops just short of hitting Batman, but he doesn’t lose that grin the whole time.

“You gonna turn me in or what, Batsy?” His eyes are a rusty blue green like the water in the bay in the summer, and Batman sees a reckless storm in them. His eyes are like justice; his eyes are like liberty.

He should be angry, should be fuming, especially tonight, but he’s not. He laughed himself stupid when he found the car missing and it’s a struggle to keep himself from laughing again when confronted with the thief. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He tilts his head, easy, like he’s having the most casual conversation in the world. “Wanted to see if she drives as pretty as she looks.”

Batman sighs, watching him. “You must be very good, to get past the security measures.”

He shrugs. He’s too thin, too small, his jacket hanging off of him like Batman’s cape. “I do alright.”

The Bat glides over to the drivers side door. “Show me.”

He tries to drop the kid off at the only group home in the neighborhood, but the kid laughs his head off when he sees the building. “That’s my grandma's place,” he says. “Taught me all I know. She’s running a museum heist tonight, you know that?”

Batman’s heart stops. He turns his head, watches the thief in the seat next to him, his head rolled back against the seat. His red-black hair is mussed from the wind, his eyes are sparkling with laughter. He looks godly; he looks obscene. Batman wants to see him like this again.

“Goes to show, right?” says the thief. “Everything good in Gotham rots.”

Batman releases the parking brake. “That’s not true.”

“Sure it is. What’s rotting you, Batsy?”

“Which museum?”

He sees the thief again the next week, walking the Bowery without a shirt under his jacket. He saunters over to the Batmobile and drapes himself against the door, displaying his skinny bare chest for Batman to admire. Batman thinks of what it would be like to wrap him in the warmest blanket in the manor. “You finally here to rot with the rest of us, Batsy?”

“I thought you were a thief,” Batman says. 

“I’m whatever you want,” he replies, and Batman doesn’t know why he was so much more attractive stealing a car than when he’s openly flirting. “I can even be your Robin for the night, if that’s what you’re after.” He tilts his head, smile fading. “Is that what’s rotting you, Batsy?”

Batman’s jaw twitches as he clenches it. He’s heard the insinuations before, and he’s never liked them. “I’m looking for Two Face.”

The man’s face turns from contemplating the edge of anger to a hard determination. Batman decides he likes it. “Yeah, I know where he is.”

Batman doesn’t know what it is that makes him unlock the door and say, “get in,” but he does.

“I’ll miss work if I do that,” he says. He leans in closer. “Or I could give you a discount. Call it two hundred for the whole night.”

In this area, Batman’s sure that’s not his usual pricing. “I’ll pay you after we catch Two Face.” Last week he ran off before Batman could talk to him; he doesn’t want to lose another chance for conversation.

He opens the door and settles in the car, sprawls on the seat, opens the window, lights a cigarette. Virginia slim. “Heard his guys talking plans two days ago. Were in the next room over from mine for the night. Said they’re hitting the Lucky Dollar Casino.”

“That’s in Bristol.” Bristol has looser gambling laws. It’s an effort to control vice, send it out of the city. Batman can’t say it works.

He shrugs, watching Batman through heavy lidded eyes. Batman thinks of what it’d be like to take that cigarette from his mouth and kiss him gently. Instead he says, “If Robin smells that on the seats, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

He laughs, a quiet genuine snicker of amusement, nothing like the shrieks of thrill and irony he gave last week. Batman wants to hear that sound again. “Where is he, anyway?”

“It’s a school night.”

He gets his wish. “You’re a wonder, Batsy. Didn’t know you cared so much about that punk.”

“He’s not a punk.” Alfred used to say he spent too much time in the past; maybe so, because this is still his reflex when people use that word, even if he knows it’s not what they mean.

“He’s out here running around with you, isn’t he? Beating up robbers in a pair of booty shorts.” He takes a drag on his cigarette and Batman looks at him and wonders that he knows what he just said.

“It’s a leotard. Acrobat’s gear.” He ignores the thief’s snort.

Two Face gets away, but Batman gets the hostage he took, so he considers it a half successful night.  He comes back to the car where the other man is waiting, his feet up on the dash. He finished his first cigarette around the time they got here, but he’s already halfway through another one.

He taps his knuckles against the window, bounces his leg. “I know you said you’d pay me after you caught him, but I’m not waiting until tomorrow.”

“I’ll pay you tonight.” Batman starts the car. 

His name is Jason; he’s nineteen years old. Batman’s glad of that, because from his height and build, he thought Jason was younger. He feels less guilty about looking at him now.

He eats steadily, watching Batman like he knows the food won’t disappear but thinks Batman might. He doesn’t, not yet; he’s finding he likes Jason when he’s not acting a part, or at least when he’s toned it down. He has a good brain and a quick wit, even if his humor is a little raw. 

“Can you only steal cars?” 

He shakes his head, licks ketchup off his thumb. It’s not sensual at all, just a habit gained from starvation, eating every scrap of food, and that makes it all the better. His eyes meet Batman’s over his hand. “M’not so good with safes, but I can do windows and pockets fine. ‘M a pretty good shot. Can do explosives okay, if you give me a gun I can probably fix it. I know how to dilute coke and what to do if someone ODs on Harry.” He takes a long drag of soda through his straw, not looking at Batman. It’s the first time he’s avoided eye contact. 

After a moment, he looks back up. “I can conjugate German and translate Latin. Read the Odyssey a couple times. It’s better in Greek.”

His brain, unbidden, supplies him with the image of Jason laid out before him like a god, Bruce and poetry against his mouth. He would do for this Jason what Medea could not do for hers, he hopes, and win his loyalty.

 He banishes the thought. No, this is not Jason; this is Ganymede, and Batman will not be as Zeus. “Why work the streets then?” He asks instead.

He pauses, looking at his food and then back at Batman. He’s leaning forward over the table and there’s barely a foot between them. “I like it,” he says. It has the straightforwardness of honesty. “If I do drugs or enforcement I’d have to work for someone else. There aren’t any gangs here I like enough to sign away my soul. Not yet.” He slides his leg forward to brush up against Batman’s under the table, so lightly Batman’s not sure he’d notice it if it weren’t for his training. There’s no shock, no static, but it feels electric nonetheless.

“There are options,” he tells Jason. He doesn’t dare move his leg.

“I haven’t been to a proper school since I was ten,” Jason retorts. “What options do you mean? Drown in debt to get through college so I can get a job above the table? A corporation’s just the same as a gang, except you can’t snitch and send them to jail when they treat you like shit. Besides,” he leans back, doubling the distance between them, stretching it into an infinity, slips his leg away from Batman’s. “You arrested Maroni. You took apart the Blackgaters.”

Batman looks away. Those eyes are piercing him, bearing down on him like the god of justice come down to judge him. It’s a rude reminder, that he doesn’t always do good; a stab in the gut that his choice removed that of somebody else, somebody with greater stakes in the game. 

But Jason is right; Batman did arrest Maroni, and he did take apart the Blackgaters, for the most part. It’ll be a month or so before the void is filled where the fence was before, when the rest of Gotham is sure he’ll lose the trial. The Blackgaters will follow, only once they have a place closer than Penguin to sell the parts off the cars they steal.

And in the meantime, Jason will walk the streets. In December.

Batman never thought he’d feel guilty about arresting someone for a crime he knew they’d committed, but here he is. How many other car thieves are in the same boat? He almost wonders if he should let Two Face go, but then he remembers the shots fired and the hostage held tonight, and scolds himself for thinking such a thing.

Maybe Jason’s right, everything good in Gotham rots. Sometimes there are no good choices, no good answers.

He gives Jason his two hundred, in eight twenties, so it’s easy to break, tucks the lone fifty in his wallet over it and calls it a tip. Bruce Wayne may carry hundreds to give to the homeless like candy, but Batman doesn’t. He leaves it on the table beside the wrapper for a burger and when Jason goes to throw out his trash, he vanishes.

[miraclesnail]

Writer’s Month Day 21: Hope

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the olympians

Cont. of this (the fic I made in response to an anon who cried about me breaking up solangelo for willvis)

Also used the prompt ‘don’t stand up yet’ from x 

[Don’t stand up yet]

“Don’t stand up yet,” Will says, kneeling by Travis’s side. He presses Travis back by the shoulders. 

Travis, for what’s it worth, listen with only a soft groan as a complaint but Will is pretty sure that’s because he’s still too dazed to disobey. 

“He’s worse than me,” Nico remarks with a hint of disbelief in his voice, sitting cross-legged on the other side of Travis, like he can’t believe someone could be just as recklessly careless with his health. 

No one is worse than you. Will is about to say, but he bites his cheeks. 

Yeah, Travis tends to get into a whole lot of… mess. It’s normal for him to be overtaken with an impulse to snatch an item from a vendor stand or reach into a purse. It already happened a few times and a consequence of that was running from the cops. But they were all minor offenses. 

Travis is actually getting hurt this time around. Will actually needs to use nectar to treat his wounds when before it’s just little scratches and mild bruising. He’s gonna hit his godly food limit pretty soon if this keeps going. There’s maybe 5 ounces left before there's going to be side effects. 

Will has his powers yeah but they’re kind of like a last resort. If he uses his power, he’ll be out of commission for a few hours depending on the wound and if someone becomes injured again… then… 

It’s not a good scenario. 

Travis groans, rolling onto his side towards him. His eyes flutter open. His stomach tingles when Travis rubs a hand over his eye. He should be angry. Pickpocketing is bad. But how dare Travis be so adorable waking up?

“Will? Nico? What happened?” Travis says, pushing his upper body upright. 

“You tell him,” Nico says and turns away to look over the semi-full parking lot they’re in.

Will has this whole speech prepared but when Travis fix his (admittedly very good looking) blue eyes at him, everything short circuited and all he could think about is how Travis’s eyes are a nice ocean blue. Luckily for him though his mouth works even without his brain. 

“A cyclops hit you in the chest with a mallet.”

“Oh.” Travis touches his chest with his fingertips. “I’m surprised I’m not dead.”

Nico snorts. “Yeah, same here. You need to be more careful.”

Travis blows a raspberry at the son of Hades. “I want to hear that from the world’s best medic.”

And by reflex, Will says, “You need to be more careful.”

Then he process Travis’s words and there’s a warm buzzing in his heart. Best… medic… best… 

He couldn’t dwell on it for long though because Travis whirls to face him with fake hurt on his face. “Will, how could you? You’re supposed to take my side. We were supposed to gang up on Nico like we planned.”

“When did we ever planthat?”

“Back in Rachel’s cave.”

“I don't remember having any conversation about that.”

“Imagine we did then.”

Nico coughs. 

“The mission, guys. We need to focus.”

The mission. 

The darn fucking mansion. 

Will is pretty sure there is no missing pet and this is just Aphrodite having fun watching him suffer. 

See, he has a crush on Travis. 

He doesn’t know when it started. 

Maybe it was when they were both 10 and Travis tried to prank him but they were both caught in it and stay caught for three hours and rather than shame, Travis laughs it off. 

Maybe it was when they were 11 and Travis had a Spongebob phase where all his pranks had to be spongebob related.

Maybe it was when they were 12 and Travis traded his Spongebob phase for Naruto.   

Maybe it was when Luke left but Travis stayed. 

Maybe it was when Travis still held his head high even as Luke cause hell again and again

Maybe it was when Lee died and he fell apart and Travis made him hot chocolate. 

Maybe it was when Michael died and he really fell apart and Travis stole ice cream for him from the Camp store he later paid back. 

All he knows is that he likes Travis. 

And because he’s close knit with his cabin, he told them. And they told him to flirt. So he did. And through the power of observation, he determined Travis does not like him back. 

An unrequited crush. 

The one thing Aphrodite loves most. 

So, no, Will is pretty sure there’s no missing bird and this is Aphrodite just having fun. 

Still, Will played along as Nico led them first to Upper State New York in the Prius Chiron so generously lended. Hephaestus had a mansion up there he uses as a storage unit. They broke in (Travis broke in), did some recon, and found that Hephaestus have three more mansions. One in Oregon. One in Washington. And one in California. All three are on the west coast. 

At that point, Will would have called it quits and tell his companions that this whole quest is a sham but then Travis had to go and said, “Alright! A clue! Let’s go but we have to stop by the Golden Gate bridge first,” with a stupid adorable grin. 

It’s funny how quickly he gave in. 

They took the Prius and drove off. He and Nico switch off being the drivers every second hour or so. It’s them two that stuck to the shotgun seats while Travis remains in the back. Worriedly, Travis slept for most of the ride and only woke up for pit stops. Travis assured them he’s fine. That he gets really sleepy in cars. Which is a big lie judging by the pinching in his stomach, but no matter how much he pestered, Travis did not give them the honest answer. 

After nearly two days of unforgiving driving, they reached Washington. 

Only to discover the pet wasn’t there. 

(Surprise, surprise.)

Then on the way to Oregon, they lost their Prius to a monster and had to hitchhike to the mansion which! Also! Did not! have the bird. 

So now they’re off to California on this pointless trip. (South California to be exact. Why couldn’t it have been North California?)

They hitchhike most of the way there, banking on people’s generosity. Sometimes the hitchridee is super nice. Sometimes they’re super creepy. Sometimes they are cyclops but they’re dealt rather quickly. Sometimes they’re not dealt so quickly. Sometimes things go very, very wrong. Sometimes monsters notice that he’s not really fighting savvy. Sometimes that really screwed him up. 

Sometimes it means he needs to be protected. 

Which is how Travis got hit in the chest with a mallet. 

Guilt gnaws on his heart. It’s always been this way. Lee and Michael used to watch out for him. And after their passing, the responsibility seem to pass to Travis and Connor. It’s annoying to be honest and he’s going to prove himself one of these days that he’s capable.

But back to the mission. He is pretty sure the mission is a dud. 

Nico twirls his dagger in his hand. “We’re almost there. One more hour and we should be in the general vicinity.”  

“Let me hotwire a car,” Travis says with a wide smirk. “It’ll be safer, faster, funner.”

“And who’s going to return the car once we’re done, huh?” Will says exasperated. 

“We just tell a friendly policeman we found the missing car and leave it there,” 

“Travis, that’s a horrible—“

“It’s a great idea. Let’s do it,” Nico interrupts. 

“Nico, what—“

But Nico isn’t having any of it, standing and already heading towards a silver Toyata. He says over his shoulder, “It’s better than risking your life to stay virtuous.”

Travis stands, flashes a triumphant grin, before running after Nico. 

Flash forward, they found a car. The drove it to Los Angeles and after 5 close car crashes because Los Angelean drivers are fucking mean (not that New York drivers are any better…), they ditched the car to walk the rest of the way to the biggest mansion of the three units. 

To where yet again Travis got hurt. This time by a sledgehammer. 

3.5 ounces of nectar left. 

You tell him this time, he mouths to Nico when Travis asks what happened. 

He gives a mini spiel about caution that he knows Travis won’t heed. 

Travis stands and stretches and fuck. Will avert his eyes. Travis is all lean muscles and Will unfortunately have a thing for leanness. He wonders if Travis knows how handsome he is. Maybe he does and does this to torment him. 

Nico heads inside the mansion and Will follows after him with Travis closing the behind. 

Travis is a talker. 

He talks during meetings. He talks during dinner. He talks even during movies much to everyone’s annoyance. But it’s just one of the many endearing traits Travis have. 

So when he isn’t talking then it means three things. Either one, he’s asleep. Two, danger is present. Or three, he’s thinking about stealing.

Will looks over his shoulder to see Travis touring the mansion with this twinkle in his eye. 

He’s definitely thinking about stealing all these antiques.

Normally, he would let it go. All these antiques are humongous. There’s no way for Travis to pocket these. But Will is an opportunist and Will sees a big opportunity right before him. So he banters some, jest a little, before going for the big guns.

"I'm going to hold your hand to make sure you don't steal."

And before Will could convinces him not to do it, he takes Travis’s hands into his and waits. 

No reaction. No tugging of his hand back. No scowling. No grimacing. No awkward chuckle. No blunt, “what are you doing?” 

And Will presses his luck further by lacing their fingers together.

Again no reaction.

Except for Travis quipping he’s ambidextrous which of course he would be. Hermes children always have the handy gifts. 

Travis didn’t say anything about their hands so Will won’t either, instead continuing their conversation before Nico evidently had enough and scolds them to focus

Will untangles his hand from Travis and is careful to watch for any reactions. Sagging shoulders, wringing hands, itching the back of the head, anything to show relief. 

There’s none of that and Will wants to scream into oblivion. He doesn’t reciprocate. He doesn’t pull away. Is he unsure or is he just oblivious?

He’s oblivious, imaginary Connor says in his mind. Just ask him out. You gotta be forward, Will. 

“Travis, watch out!” Nico yells, pulling Travis back by the back of his shirt and saving him from falling into a pit. “You need to keep an eye out.”

“Woah, thanks Nico. This is the sixth time you save my life! I owe you.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “You can repay me by actually paying attention to your surroundings.” 

Affronted, Travis argues, “I do pay attention! I’m just not very good at picking up traps.” 

“Try harder.”

“I am trying my very best.”

The booby traps continue and Travis continues to be nearly killed by them. It wouldn’t be concerning if not for the frequency. Sure, Travis can be a bit careless but not this careless. Never this careless. And after Travis blatantly trigger the door trap even after they said it’s booby trapped, he has to say something (2.5 ounces of nectar left…) and it lead to one of the most unbelievable admission ever.

Travis. Has. A. Crush.

On a real, living person. 

An actual person.

An existent… tangible… person. 

He has a chance.

He has a chance! 

Travis is capable of romantic feelings! 

But as quick as the exhilaration comes, it left.

Travis has a crush.

But no sane person admits they have a crush to the object of said crush.

So Travis has a crush. But it isn’t him. He schools his features to show nothing but happiness for his friend. That is until another realization comes to him. Travis has a crush. But Travis is also remarkably gifted by his father. Enhanced agility… enhanced lie detection… enhanced lockpicking… plus his skill to hotwire any car, to pickpocket in any situation, to practically talk his way out of any punishment… 

They’re quite useful skills to have in life and Will can name dozens of campers who’ll want that at their disposal. 

So he asks, “What's his name? Which cabin? Do I know him? Who is he? How nice is he?"

Travis is taken aback by the questions and Will bites his lips. Cool it, Will. Cool it.

"It doesn't even matter if I tell you,” Travis says hesitantly, “He probably won't reciprocate my feelings."

Will hates himself for burst of relief that floods him. Unreciprocated want is painful. He should know with Travis sitting right there. He forces his face to be sympathetic, but it’s so hard. And when Travis admits his crush has a crush on someone else, the whole idea tickles his innards. He has a crush. Travis has a crush. His crush’s crush have a crush. Everybody has a crush and nobody is getting what they want.

That is, until Travis admits he’d ‘assumed’ his crush has a crush. 

And the hope that blossoms in his chest is grinded to nothing with a steel boot. 

Travis is not the best when it comes to recognizing romantic intentions. Connor said so. Annabeth said so. Even Chiron said so. Everybody that knew Travis since childhood said so. 

And Will had pompously toss aside their statements because come on, how dense can a person be?

He literally asked Travis to be his patient to practice first aid on when he has siblings right there to ask instead. He asked him to help with his medical abbreviations memorization when Athena’s children can probably help him better with that. He even asked for archery lessons even though everybody knows he already took thousands of lessons with Chiron and never got better. 

No reaction. No questions. Just “Wow, you’re incredible Will” or “You’re so studious, Will” or “You’re getting better!” which is a bold faced lie because he definitely did not get better even when he put all his effort into shooting right. 

Travis accepted his every request without a complaint.

And then when Kayla and Austin intervened without his consent and Travis’s continued dismissal of all flirting, it was the confirmation that Will took as a sign for Travis being uninterested in any romantic relationships. 

Gods, he’s such an idiot.

Travis is just an oblivious person.

Travis is an oblivious person. And fuck, Connor’s probably right about everything else too huh? Travis is bad at seeing love. Travis is bad knowing when people are in love. Travis is bad at seeing romance at all, according to Connor. 

Which means there’s a humongous chance Travis’s crush may have a crush on him. 

And Will couldn’t help the crushing wave of despair washing over him. 

Still. 

There’s a chance Travis might have a happy ending so Will sucks it up, straighten his back, and tells Travis to ask his crush out. 

And that’s exactly what happens a few minutes later. 

Except Travis himself didn’t confess but a magical talking bird. 

“Travis! Travis, wait! Don’t run out— and he’s gone.”

Nico comes back from the door exasperated. Will can hear Travis’s sneakers echoing through the mansion until his remarkable agility carry him too far to be heard. 

I love Will. 

“Damn it. This is bad.”

He likes me. 

“Come on, Will, we need to follow after him.”

He likes... me.

“Will?”

He … likes … me?

“Will, come on! We need to get him back.” 

And Nico shakes him by the shoulder. Will snaps back to attention to find Nico in front of him, staring with concern.

“Will, we need to go after him.” 

Right… right… Travis just ran out of here full speed. Hopefully, Travis is smart enough to run where they already set off all the traps but if he didn’t… 

Will doesn’t even want to think about that. 

And he doesn’t because Travis likes him. 

Unless he meant that in a platonic way. He loves Connor like a brother should… He admires Antman as the best superhero… And as far as he knows… cheeseburgers and poptarts aren’t romantic interests of his.

Oh god.

What if this just confirmed it? What if Travis just sees him as a friend? Had he just been friendzoned?

“WILL!” And this time Nico did more than shake him by the shoulder, jabbing him in the stomach lightly.

Will winces. “Ow, that hurts.”

“Stop lying,” Nico says, scowling. “We need to go after him.”

Then Nico runs out of the room and Will follows him. Will listen for the telltale sign of shoes, of Travis’s blabbering, of Ms. Fluffy life-changing chirps, but he hears none of that. And when they retrace their steps back to the entrance, Travis is nowhere to be seen which means he’s somewhere in this booby trapped mansion. 

Oh no. Oh no.

“Let’s split up,” Nico says, hands digging inside his pockets. “I’ll search the east wing. You search the west. You have nectar and drachma on you?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay, we’ll IM each other if we find him.”

Will snags Nico by his sleeve before he could leave. He needs a second opinion, someone down to Earth and honest. He can’t search with this on his mind. “Nico, do you think Travis only sees me as a friend?”

He never seen Nico look so done. 

“Will, he ran out of here like Mrs O. Leary was chasing him. What does that tell you?”

The bird that changed his life for the better is back to change it some more! He comes across Ms. Fluffy in the west wing in a narrow corridor. She insistently tugs on the strands of his hair and he follows her to a large ballroom with a high ceiling. Ms. Fluffy perches on his shoulder and sort her feathers. 

"Travis?" he calls out hesitantly.

No response. 

"Travis? You here?"

Still no answer. 

Ms. Fluffy coos and Will scowls at her. “Ms. Fluffy, I don't have time for sightseeing. I need to find Travis. Gods probably know he got into a trap or something."

Ms Fluffy’s hackles rise in indignation and she flies to the center of the room with a pitfall. His stomach fell when he sees it’s triggered amongst all the untriggered traps.

He walks to the edge, peers down into the dark pit, and prays to his dad that the dark shape he sees isn’t Travis. 

"Travis? Is that you?"

To his dismay, a voice flits from the bottom. "Will… hey… how you been?"

“Travis hold on. I’m coming.”

Travis is down there. He sounds awful. It’s a 30 feet drop… broken bones are possible if he landed wrong. Shit. Will reach into his backpack to pull out some rope. He ties it a sofa, tests the strength once, before descending down to the pit

Travis is on his right side, elbows propping him up. The position he’s in seems weird and Will finds out why when his eyes zero in the metal spike protruding from his calf. 

The barbs are laced with poison of course. Of course it has to be. There’s no way the universe couldn’t let it be a simple fix. The poison seems to be taking effect already. Travis face is red and he’s panting, with the very barest of shivers running up and down his back.  

Will kneels by the wound and shines a flashlight on it. 

It’s bad. Really bad. Probably worth the rest of nectar in Travis’s godly food allowance. 

His fingers accidentally graze the thigh too roughly and he winces when Travis whimpers in pain.

This is going to hurt big time. 

None of this is better by Ms Fluffy perching on his shoulder and revealing what he loves. 

Steak. Studying. Those mean nothing. But blue? Brown? Antman? 

As long as Ms. fluffy don’t start sprouting “I love blue because it’s the color of Travis’s eyes” or “I love brown because Travis’s hair is brown” or god forbid, “I love Antman because I originally look the man up to see what kind of person Travis likes and ended up actually liking the character because of his striking resemblance to the object of my crush.” As long as Ms. Fluffy doesn’t say any of that, there won’t be a problem. 

(Be forward, Will. You gotta be forward) 

But of course the bird don’t listen. Of course the world likes kicking him in the gut. First with his poor assumption that Travis isn’t interested and now by ruining the confession he has planned. 

Because as soon as Will took back the bottle of nectar (emptied), as soon as Will manage to stop Travis’s blabbering about his new career as a street magician, as soon as Will just barely finish explaining his motives, as soon as he did all that the bird said it. 

The fucking bird said it. 

"I love Travis."

“GO GET, NICO!” Will roars, dropping Travis’s face to wave at the bird still perched on his head. 

Ms. Fluffy takes off immediately without backtalk. 

Good. 

He wouldn’t know what he would have done if Ms. Fluffy stayed to sprout some more secrets. 

Will looks back to Travis, face still infuriatingly devoid of emotion. 

Until the slightest furrow of eyebrows and oh god. Will steels himself for being friendzoned. But Travis only whisper, “What?”

Is that shock? Disgust? The false realization that they mutually see each as ‘friends’ and only friends? 

“Ha… haha… did I hear that right? Did Ms. Fluffy said you … you like me?”

No, not shock. Not disgust. Just confusion. Will takes a deep breath and with Connor talking in his mind (“be forward. Just be forward and stop assuming”), he holds Travis’s hand with both of his and squeezes once. “Yeah. I like you. Like, like-like you. Like, ‘I-want-to-go-out-with-you’ like you.” 

Red creeps along his cheeks and climbs to his ears and Will thinks that’s a great sign. But then he takes a closer look and crap. 

He can see it. In the eyes. The skin. The beginning of nectar overdose.

Glazed focus, feverish skin, a soon to come uncontrollable trembling, and a warmth that’ll feel like it’s burning him away from the inside. 

Shit. 

Will was sure of Travis’s maximum intake. Did he consume some ambrosia or nectar before this? Damn it. He should have asked first. He should have checked before saying to drink it all. Shit. He messed up like he always does. They need to find a bathtub right away and fill it with lukewarm water. Ah, he’ll IM Nico to do that for him.

Will drops his hands but Travis snuck his back in and blurts, “Really? You’re not pulling my leg? You’re not lying to me? You’re not feeling sorry for me? You’re not saying that to make me feel better? You’re not kidding? You’re not—” Travis swallows, and Will can see anxiety in those blue eyes. “You’re not… disgusted?”

Will wrinkles his nose at the way Travis said it. “Disgusted? Why would I be disgusted?”

There isn’t even a second pause. “Because I’m a thief. I like to steal. I like to break into stores. I’m dishonest. I lie without a reason to. I’m not a good person. You deserve so much better than someone like me.” 

Will didn’t hesitate in saying, “You’re wrong.” 

“But it’s true,” Travis pouts, “You’re literally like Jesus and I’m just a lowly—”

“You’re wrong,” Will says again, fist clenching. “You’re wrong and I’m going to need you to stop putting yourself down like this because it’s not like you.”

Travis shakes his head. “I—”

And because Will is bossy. He’s bullminded. He’s a touchy-touchy kind of person, he cups Travis’s face in his hands (noting worriedly how warm it feels), tilts it up and squeeze them lightly. “I. Like. You. You’re funny. You’re sweet. You’re talented. Sure, you have bad qualities. Everybody has them. I have them too. I can be incredibly insensitive. I don’t understand personal bubbles. But people change. People can become better.” 

Travis’s head lowers and his shoulders shake, and oh boy, Will braces himself for crying but no, when Will places his hand on the back the skin feels burning hot even through the shirt. 

Oh, that’s right. The nectar overdose. 

“We will continue this conversation when you’re not in pain. Can you stand?”

Travis only slinks forward and Will catches him across the chest.

Ok. Alright. Stay calm, Will. You trained for this. Don’t panic. 

First things first, lower the fever. Will chants a hymn to cool the burning. It won’t be enough to cool it entirely, but it’s enough till Will can find the nearest bathtub. He slides Travis onto his back, wincing at the unbearable heat bearing down on him. He stands and groans at the weight before collapsing back down to the ground. He can’t carry Travis by himself. 

Wiping out his water bottle, he showers the air with water and toss his drachma into the rainbow. 

“Let me talk to Nico di Angelo in this building, please, Iris.” 

And as he waits for the connection to go through, he prays to his dad for everything to turn out okay.

Don’t combust into flames, Travis. Connor will kill me.

[sserpente]

Cool me down | Loki Summer Series Part I Imagine Tony Stark invites you all to spend a relaxing week in Greece. You insist that Loki joins you and after some agitated convincing on your behalf, he does. Sounds like a promising vacation, no?

A/N: Wow! Throughout several parts, this Imagine will literally combine six requests from four anons, @reebgirl13 and @thatcrazyfangirl100 and eleven of my own ideas. Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 2181 Warnings: aerophobia

“Who’s ready for a week in Greece?!”

“Wait, what?” Smiling, you looked up from your book and watched Tony Stark, aka the owner and billionaire of this massive building you were allowed to live in, dramatically enter the room with a sly smirk on his face.

The rest of the present Avengers, all of them occupied with their favourite activities, which included Captain America reading the newspaper, Natasha and Bruce sipping coffee and Thor abusing Tony’s X-Box, mimicked your reaction.

“Spontaneous vacation trip. You know. Summer, sun, sex on the beach…” He trailed off, wriggling his eyebrows. It sounded wonderful. The heat was killing you, a luxurious bathtub filled with cold water barely replacing a refreshing pool or the vast sea.

Tony often surprised you with pricey last-minute gifts. Obviously, with the amount of money on his bank account, a week in Greece was barely worth mentioning.

“That sounds amazing, Tony.”

But what sounded even more amazing was that you would get to introduce Loki to a typical Midgardian vacation. Unbeknownst to him, you had taken quite a liking into him. A mischievous god from outer space, outrageously handsome with a dominant villain complex… it all drew you to him like bees round a honeypot and now that he had changed for the better, healed a little and decided to help Thor save the world from Thanos… you had hopelessly fallen in love with him.

“When are we leaving?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Tonight. My jet will be ready in a few hours.”

Which meant you had to start packing right away and tell FRIDAY to order some sunscreen. What protective factor did Frost Giants need anyway?

“Alright. We can manage. Thank you, Tony. I’ll go and tell Loki.” You announced, putting your book down to stand up and making an effort to leave the room.

“Sorry, kid.” Tony replied unnerved. “I’ve only booked five suites.” That’s right. Clint was staying home with his family and with Bruce and Natasha sharing a suite, there were four left for Steve, you, Thor and Tony himself. His ice cold tone drove daggers straight through your heart. He had purposely excluded him then.

“What do you expect him to do, stay here and sulk away in your library?” It wasn’t like the God of Mischief had been doing just that the entire time already; leaving him behind like this, however, felt incredibly wrong. Had he not suffered enough? The Avengers had all promised to Thor to give Loki a chance. It certainly did not feel like that right now.

“Suites, you say? There’s still enough space then. Loki can stay with me.”

“(Y/N), no. I don’t want to spend my vacation with a would-be god with a ruling complex. Reindeer Games stays here where FRIDAY can keep an eye on him, period.”

“Stark, why not?” Thor tossed in, finally pausing his wrestling game. Had he… actually named his character Thor the Thunderer? “Loki has changed for the better, I don’t see why my brother shouldn’t join us.”

“Maybe it’s because he tried to kill each and every one of us at least once?” Natasha responded unsolicited. You rolled your eyes.

“If Loki is not coming, I’m not coming.” You stated, crossing your arms.

“Why are you defending him?” Steve had finally abandoned the newspaper on the counter and now faced you sternly like he did when he gave orders on a mission. He made you shrug defiantly. Frankly, you were not going to tell them you were crushing on the mischievous Trickster. Hell, not even Loki himself knew about that.

Tony faked gagging. “Fine. Take him. But he’s yours—and Thor’s—responsibility. Something happens, he’s acting funny or misbehaves, I’ll send him straight back and lock him in a cell.” Because that worked out so well the first time you did it, you thought. Or the second time.

Rolling your eyes once more, you nodded and finally left the room, seeking out Loki in the billionaire’s library. He looked like a statue as he sat there on the windowsill, raven hair hanging into his face and blue eyes focused on the many letters in his book. A silent sigh escaped your lips.

“Loki?”

He looked up in an instant. Surely, he must have noticed your presence already but you often came here to read in peace as well, he did not expect you to come in because of him. He frowned in a surprised manner.

“Yes?”

“Tony is taking us on a trip to Greece for a week.”

The Trickster lightly shook his head, raising his eyebrows and pouting a little as he said— “Well, have fun then.”

“Oh but you’re invited too.”

Now, you had really confused him. Loki shut the book he had been reading, his entire godly body turning towards you. You gasped inaudibly—you hoped.

“Is that true?” He asked mockingly, a barely visible but irresistible smirk playing on his thin lips.

“Of course! It’ll be fun?” You offered friendlily. But this time it was Loki who rolled his eyes.

“No. I do not like the heat, besides, I would much rather spend my time here, surrounded by books instead of these self-proclaimed superheroes.”

“Your brother is one of them.” You shot back, shaking your head irritated. “Please, Loki. Come with me. We can swim in the sea, eat ice cream, jet-ski… please?”

The God of Mischief took a deep breath. Blue eyes boring intently into yours, he seemed to consider for a moment. “No.” He concluded disgusted. But you were not going to give up just yet.

Grinning to yourself, you approached him and unceremoniously sank down on his lap to wrap your arms around his neck, enjoying how his soft hair felt against your forearms. He did not complain.

Loki had grown quite used to your hugs after a while. You loved being affectionate when it came to him, knowing that he could use the occasional cuddle, for you insisted that even if he did not show or pretended not to be fond of it—he rather liked the closeness.

“Are you trying to manipulate me?” He teased, fighting back another smirk.

“Maybe? Is it working?”

Loki chuckled darkly, the sound sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine and then, straight between your legs. You shifted inconspicuously.

“No.” He was going to say something else. You knew when he sighed. “I’ll come. Just this once.”

Squealing, you hugged him even tighter.

A couple of hours later, with your suitcases packed and your sunscreen (and a brand-new pair of sunglasses because you could not resist) at the ready, you found yourself in Tony Stark’s private jet and sank down on the soft leather seat next to Loki, immediately fastening your seatbelt even though the engine wasn’t even on yet.

Yes. This was one disadvantage of travelling—aerophobia. Taking a shaking breath, you dug your nails into the leather and closed your eyes for a bit to calm down. Fortunately, you usually didn’t get sick but the fear was always there.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked quietly. So quiet in fact, that none of the other boarding Avengers were able to hear it. You flinched when the engine hummed to life and started rolling along the landing strip to take off.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just… a little fear of flying… or much rather, of crashing and bursting asunder into a million pieces.” You admitted. You never realised you had grabbed Loki’s arm for support—his dark leather armour replaced with light green clothing revealing his pale forearms—and holding on to him for dear life.

His smile was genuine, warming your heart as he did not pull away and instead, put his hand on yours. His touch cooled you down and heated you up at the very same time. Your heart jumped. Well… that way, twelve hours would pass in no time.

And fortunately, they did. You fell asleep quickly to wake up in Santorin, Greece. The spot Tony had chosen was isolated from the many tourists destroying the peace. The sea was blue, the typically Greek buildings hovering into a cloudless sky and when you landed, the hotel was beyond anything you had expected from the billionaire. High ceilings, ornamented with golden paintings and decorated with chandeliers, ancient carpets and a smoothly polished marble floor…

The receptionist handed you all your keys—heavy golden metal pieces with a beautiful pendant. You turned to Loki when you received yours.

“We share a room, if that’s alright?” You began, realising now you had not yet told him you were going to be staying in the same suite. “They didn’t have any more suites.” You lied, adding a silent Actually, Tony wanted you to stay home but I queered his pitch.

“I shall promise not to stab you in your sleep.” Loki mocked jokingly, making you grin and blush at the very same time. Perhaps you could already consider him a friend. He never joked around like this with anyone else, expect for Thor maybe. It almost seemed like he knew something you had not quite figured out yet.

So, as soon as you had dropped your hand luggage and admired the luxurious suite as well as the view from your balcony, you got changed into more comfortable clothes. Given it was around six pm in Santorin already, you could barely wait to browse the streets and markets—and to take Loki with you, of course.

“Are you ready?” You asked excitedly, finding Loki leaning against the balustrade of the balcony, blue eyes fixed on the sea. Honestly, the colour of his eyes was more beautiful than the Med.

The God of Mischief frowned. “Where do you want to go?”

“Out. Exploring a little.” You shrugged. “Maybe we’ll find a nice restaurant.” You had taken some money with you, of course and you were ready to spend it on some delicious local food. Joyfully, you smiled when Loki nodded.

Five minutes later and without telling Stark where you both had gone, Loki and you were strolling down a small market offering food, toys for children, souvenirs and jewellery. You resisted the urge to reach for his hand and hold it, unsure of how the Trickster would react if you did. You had the entire week to get closer to him, after all.

Then, you nearly collided with his broad back when he suddenly stopped to admire some pieces of jewellery in a glass cabinet. There were diamonds in all colours of the rainbow, decorative golden and silver rings, earrings, necklaces and bracelets. One of them shone out in particular—it was a golden necklace, twenty carat, and equipped with a beautiful green diamond. Was it an emerald?

Your fascinated gaze instantly caught the beautiful piece of jewellery. It reminded you of him. Loki chuckled when he noticed.

“Would you like to have it?” He asked, ignoring how the seller of the jewellery stand joined you both with a mumbled Kalispéra.

Shocked, you looked up. “Oh, no, no. It’s beyond beautiful but that’s way too expensive for my budget.”

Loki smirked. A green shimmering of light coated his hand for just the fraction of a second and then, suddenly, he was holding a very thick bundle of banknotes. The seller’s eyes widened but so did yours.

“Wait, where is this money from?”

The God of Mischief shrugged. “I took it from Stark’s wallet.” Your jaw dropped. Perhaps you should be mad at him for stealing from the billionaire, yet on the other hand it posed the perfect payback for him refusing to take Loki to Greece. You giggled.

“Consider it a gift. You were the only one who wanted me to join this vacation, were you not?” You sighed. He was perceptive beyond your comprehension. So this was what he had known this entire time. Smiling and fighting back tears of affection, you nodded and bit your lower lip as you watched Loki point at the golden necklace for the seller to take it out of the cabinet. He handed to him, named the price (a price that made you gulp) and Loki paid him with scrutinising eyes, with you realising then his magic had not only conjured money but also the correct currency.

As soon as the seller had left again, the God of Mischief smirked. “Turn around.” He demanded softly. You obliged, goose bumps spreading on your skin when he brushed your hair to the side, fingers ghosting over your sensitive neck. Painfully slow, he put it on you.

You looked down. It looked absolutely breath-taking. “Thank you, Loki.” You whispered, feeling the cool gold caressing your skin as you reached for it to feel it with your fingers. Wearing his colours now, you felt like he had just claimed you to be his. You wished, desperately, that it were true.

“Let us go down to the beach for a bit.” He suggested then. You nodded. This time you did not hesitate to simply hold his hand. Loki did not pull away. This week was going to be amazing.

Part II can be found on my masterlist!

 If you like this story, would you care to support me a little by buying me a cuppa? I would appreciate it so much! ko-fi.com/sserpente

[coffee-scribbles]

A Kingdom of Ash

Chapter Two, Hearts in Contrast

(also on Ao3)

“And that thing you did with the flip? That was amazing!” The farm boy who had stood up for himself —she had learned him to be named Clark— continued to ramble. Eyes alight with excitement and awe as he paced in front of where Diana was being treated. The woman tending to her, Martha Kent, a short elderly woman with a certain fondness to her, chuckled mildly. Her blonde hair tussling slightly as she shook her head, smiling to the boy’s actions as a younger woman handed her bandages.

Diana focused on her breathing, in and out, of the musty, sun-soaked air as she held her forearm steady for the elder, Martha, to bandage.

She was gentle as she dabbed at the newly clean, sluggishly bleeding wound. Diana hissed lightly as the soreness and sharp pain intermingled, as, with a slow sort of grace, Martha wrapped the soft linen bandages around her wound.

“And how you snatched his knife with the whip? That was so cool!” Clark rambled, his voice was excited, yet somehow soothing. Though he was surely wearing a trail in the floor at how he paced.

“And-and how did you learn all those fighting moves? Oh please, you’ve got to teach me!”

The older woman, Clark’s mother, shook her head with a slight titter forming. She waved off her younger aid in a fluid movement, and the young girl was quick to stumble from the room. Quite clearly shaken, likely from their encounter that morning.

Martha stood slowly, pausing for a moment before raising her hand and ruffling Clark’s hair, a motion he helped by tilting his head down.

“Now now sugarplum, don’ get too excited. The lil’missie needs ‘er rest,” Martha tutted at her boy, who pretended to pout. The sheer maternity of the situation filled Diana’s senses, and she found her heart longing for home, and though Martha acted nothing like her mother, queen of the amazons, built of strength and immortality, this stubby, sweetheart of a woman reminded Diana of home.

Of her sisters.

Of a family with which she was no longer welcome.

“Ms. Diana…? Are you okay? Is your wound acting up?” Clark was by her side in an instant, startling the warrior. She hadn’t heard him approach.

Martha watched her, and when Diana was a bit too quick to shake her head and insist that she was fine, her once fond smile twitched to a frown.

Diana stood, grabbing the knapsack which Mr. Kent had insisted she use to store her things, and throwing it over her shoulder with maybe a bit too much force.

“I should be going,” Diana spoke, not noticing how Clark’s eyes went wide and brow furrowed, “it’ll be dusk soon and-“

“Yes, it will be dusk soon.” Martha stated, voice firm and tone eerily similar to the one her own mother would use when Diana was about to do something indescribably stupid.

“And that is exactly why you’re staying.”

The room itself paused. The only movement, that of a slow wind and the darkness of an approaching storm, fluttering through the curtains and the trees. And somewhere in the distance, there was thunder.

“Clark, be a dear and fix up a room for-”

“Already on it ‘Ma,” Clark smiled, rushing from the room with a spring in his step.

“I admire your open hospitality, but I really must be on my way.” Diana tried to move toward the door, only to find the doorway blocked by Martha’s determined form.

Diana blinked a bit.

“When you’ve healed, maybe.” Her words left no room for argument, and despite herself, Diana slowly felt the fight seeping from her bones.

She was so tired.

“I wouldn’t wish to intrude…” It was a last ditch attempt really, and she didn’t even really mean it.

Martha seemed proud of her victory, and smiled, then instead of simply moving aside like Diana had expected, she opened her arms.

“Come’ere,” she beckoned, and Diana could only nod and carefully embrace the shorter woman.

There was a pause, Diana’s breathing slowed as the tightness in her chest slowly melted. A dusty scent like fresh dough and dried herbs, soft and sweet, embraced her just as tightly as Martha’s arms did; and Diana found her stomach twisting and pressure behind her eyes tingling as she forced herself to stay steady and to stop thinking about a home that was no longer hers.

To stop thinking about the months she had spent, wandering, lost, devoid of all care and contact.

“Please darlin’, stay as long as you need.” Her embrace was so unlike Diana’s own mother, a woman of tight muscle and godly strength. While Martha’s was soft, like hugging a warm pillow, Diana breathed in her warm apple butter and cinnamon scent.

The arms that encircled her were frail, but no less comforting as they slowly slid, holding Diana by her biceps before one hand lifted to grasp her cheek.

Diana bent down as to make it easier for her.

“You saved my boy,” she smiled, and the expression reminded her of home. Of white sand beaches and the warmth of the sun, and suddenly she felt the need to be outside, to flee the confined space and feel the sun on her skin.

“I’ll stay,” Diana finally allowed, her voice a hoarse whisper.

“Good,” Martha smiled, patting her on the arm.

As if on cue, Clark knocked on the doorframe with a smile.

“Pa says it’s almost supper time, and wants to know where you put the-“

“Bread’s in the left cupboard hun,” Martha called, Clark shouted a short thanks before echoing it back to his ‘Pa’. Diana smiled for a moment as Martha shook her head fondly and rushed to the kitchen herself, smiling as she was greeted with a peck on the cheek from her husband, who’s arms bore the missing edibles.

"Thank ya sugar,” he smiled, a loving expression. Diana, despite having yet to be formally introduced to the trim, aged man, assumed him to be Clark’s ‘Pa’.

“Now you two head over to the hall, while yer’ pa and I pack the food for the potluck,” Martha ushered them both out, ruffling both Clark and Diana’s hair without hesitation.

Clark smiled and laughed into the action, making a joke that Diana couldn’t quite process, far to lost in the sensation of the kindness so readily offered to her, even though in another time, she would have killed them without hesitation.

They had only taken a few steps out the door, Clark in the lead, before he realized something was wrong, and slowed his pace to walk beside her. It was not the easiest task to do without trampling the wheat that grew from the earth around them, but he managed; even plucking one of the wheat stalks and chewing on the end.

“Hey, ya alright?” Clark asked slowly shifting between looking where they were going and watching Diana as they padded down the dirt road.

“How do you mean?” Diana hadn’t thought she’d been displaying any emotions besides thoughtfulness.

Clark, however, seemed to disagree.

“I dunno, ya just… seem down.” Diana paused as Clark wrapped an arm around her shoulder, a careful, kindness in the gesture.

“Jus’ wanna let you know I’m here if ya need a friendly ear,” he smiled, chewing mindlessly on the stalk, causing the end to bob ever so slightly.

Diana felt ashamed that her first instinct was to flinch at the contact, even after they had helped her, bandaged her wounds and gifted her a place to rest, the stories of Man’s world’s barbaric tendencies were ingrained deep into her mind.

And yet, as Clark pulled her just bare inches closer, she couldn’t help but think of the only other man who had ever held her so sweetly.

Diana shook her head, as if to forcibly dispel the intrusive thoughts of Steve from her mind.

“M’kay?” Clark asked, eyes narrowed in the sun, but sharp in their concern.

Diana blinked, taking a moment to remember what he had last said.

“Apologies, I… didn’t mean to worry you,” Diana affirmed, the villagers here had already done so much for her, she wouldn’t want to cause them unnecessary stress.

Besides, it wasn’t like it mattered anymore.

“Naw, it’s no fuss.” Clark waved his hand dismissively, but smiled at Diana anyway. The expression was somehow… reassuring.

The feeling coiled in her stomach like guilt.

“Jus’ lettin’ ya know that if you wan’, you can always tell me what’s on yer mind,” Clark assured.

Diana let out a dwindling sigh, and their pace slowed further as they made a turn, dawdling such as to have a more private conversation.

But the closer they got to ‘the hall’ as Martha had called it, the more people loitered around, chatting with each-other or just generally moving toward ‘the hall’.

“I suppose I am a bit… homesick,” Diana muttered, eyes downcast.

Clark paused mid-step, backtracking a few before pausing, surveying the area.

Diana blinked as the farm-boy lead her off the side of what seemed to be another home, sturdy wooden planks with a straw roof, similar to the Kent’s cottage, if a bit smaller. He leaned up against the wall, bringing her to do the same; his arm still weighed heavy, though pleasantly warm, around her shoulder.

“Oh?” Clark spoke prolixly, not looking at her, not as though through shame, more... a kindness, knowing with his gaze he brought the pressure to answer. Instead, he simply watched forward, voice calm as he spoke again, a tone with which one would assure a forrest doe.

“Is that where yer headin’?” Clark asked, eyes distant across the open distance of fields, hemmed with trees and gentle brush.

Instead of answering, Diana watched the man for a moment.

Clark, a farm boy, muscular and tall, chewing on the end wheat stalk and looking so, uncannily... unnatural. His personality married to the warm, kind, sun-soaked atmosphere, scented of dry grass and fertile earth.

And yet, there was also something… off.

About him, the way he stood just a bit too attentive, the way his gaze seemed so far off, distant, like looking for something greater.

Clark, she realized, though not consciously aiming to compare, looked absolutely nothing like Steve.

Her breath caught at the thought, and the small sound seemed to snap the farm-boy from his revery, turning to face her. His face, impossibly close, his breath warm and cautionary, tickling the tip of her nose.

That distance in his eyes glittered up close, Diana stared deeply into his eyes, that distance was closer now, physically. And yet.. an asymptote. Closer and closer and closer still, but somehow still impossibly far, her finger tips grazing the eternity.

It was so unlike the blond-haired, brown-eyed martyr she had once... cared for. And so unlike anyone else in the quaint little town.

Clark, with his mid-length, dark curly hair, hidden from view by frayed a straw hat. Clark with his strong, clean-shaven jawline of tanned skin, gentle accent, and slightly musty scent, like oats and wheat and open fields.

Clark, and the fact that he was absolutely nothing like Steve, and yet, when he smiled...

Hera damn his smile. Lopsided and familiar, she knew in her heart that the gods forged his damn his smile the exact same way.

And it was killing her, slowly.

"Diana?" Clark asked, voice tepid and caring. Not entirely unlike the warm gust of air that fluttered the tan dress Martha Kent had gifted her.

“Hm?” Diana hummed, she really needed to stop getting lost in thought.

He seemed to take this as an answer to his question, as he gave a slightly flustered laugh and rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Well... I jus’ assumed ya were headin’ home, ya seemed in a pretty good rush,” he defended.

Diana's stomach plummeted, she looked away.

“Oh… no. I’m not- I can’t really go back,” she paused, taking a deep breath and settling into the silence once more.

Only for it to be broken moments later.

“Why?" Clark asked, "if ya don’ mind me askin’."

Diana swallowed heavily, taking in another deep breath, so heavy she could almost taste it on her tongue. The scent, of dry hay and wood in the air, dull and nearly unnoticeable, but it stood out because it wasn't of burnt flesh, nor of sulphur or ash.

It was the scent of good because it was like nothing even went wrong.

“I was a bad person, did some… bad things.” Diana wrapped her arms around herself, pausing, waiting for the warmth of his arm to be torn away, for him to drop the conversation and realize her truth.

“Ya were,” Clark said. It was not a question, nor a confirmation.

It was like he was expecting her to understand something about her sentence, something she couldn't quite see.

It was all she could do to nod, their faces still gently close, but Clark was back to watching the distance, even though his gaze continued to flicker between her and the verdant horizon.

“Ya were, that there’s a past tense,” Clark said again, as if expecting her to get it.

Whatever 'it' was.

“So," he paused, as if scrounging for the right words, "ya wouldn’t do wha’ever bad stuff ya did then, now." He paused,  right?”

“…Yes?”

Diana was officially confused.

“Well Pa says the past’s behind us, and tha's where it's meant to stay," Clark smiled, just a twitch to the edge of his lips.

Diana watched him intently, and sure enough, he explained further.

“See," he gestured with his free hand, "if ya keep thinkin' ‘bout the past, you'll never see the good ’n the future, so you'll never move on ta’ see the good person we can be.”

There was a rather sizable pause after that, and Clark, though he could never prove it, would bet the farm that Diana nuzzled just an inch closer after that, and smiled.

“Your father is very intelligent, for a man.” Diana said, still smiling, ever so slightly.

It was a warm, comfortable expression, even if Clark could only get glimpses of it due to not wanting the other to feel awkward at their proximity.

“Er, thanks?” Clark asked, laughing a little bit.

Diana nodded in acceptance, and Clark was sure this would make one heck of a story.

I TOLD Y’ALL IT’D BE LATE!! again, sorry ‘bout that. But, as always, credit for the au goes to the beautiful, the talented *drum roll* @causeimanartist!!!! She’s amazing! her art is the best!!

But anyway, pls reblog, i am sad and smol. thank.

[og-lacksubstance-studios]

Do You Remember? - Part 6

Summary: Can you recall the first time you ever loved someone? Someone who made you challenge yourself and learn all the unexpected feelings? Sometimes you forget, but then the unexpected happens and you find yourself back to the beginning.

Seeing Sage again brought up a tension that neither girl wanted to rehash again, but Embry knew was impossible to ignore. The closure wasn’t closure at all and the lack of self-blame was nonexistent. Embry didn’t want to believe she was the only person at fault for everything turning to shit. She wanted Sage to be by her side, equally taking the heat and she wasn’t.

Embry nurses her cup in hand as she sits on the bleachers, looking at the illuminating football field. She didn’t think coming here would omit so many memories she desperately wanted to never reopen, but she sat here and everything was flooding back like an unannounced tsunami. It’s overwhelming and a big part of her wants to leave, and never come back.

But the other part of her is—

“I figured I’d find you here.” Embry looks up to see Sage casually walking towards her with her hands in her pockets. “Well it was either this or the art room, so I just took my chances,” she adds smiling slightly. Embry gives her a sad smile in return then casts her eyes downward to her cup.

“Why did you come here?” Sage asks forcing Embry to look up ready to defend herself. “I mean, you’re acting like you don’t want to be here, so why come?” Sage explains and Embry’s defensiveness dissipates almost immediately.

“I did want to come, but the last time I was here things were messy and difficult,” Embry says sadly. “I lost everything.” Tears sit on the brim of her eyes as she recounts mentally how damaging everything became prior to graduation.

“You didn’t lose me,” Sage says pointedly and Embry meets her eyes again as Sage shifts to rest against the railing of the bleachers. “You let me go, remember?”

“I didn’t want to hold you back or make you deal with all the shit that was coming my way,” Embry says and Sage shakes her head slightly, looking down and sighing like it should’ve been obvious to the other girl.

“I was equally to blame for it all and you believed you had to protect me from the bullshit,” Sage says, walking over to kneel in front of Embry to get her to keep her eyes on hers, hoping it’ll resonate with her. “But I would have fought for you and alongside you, but you wouldn’t let me. Instead, you decided you deserved the brute force of it all, leaving me to just watch on the sidelines.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Embry breathes out, tears streaming down her cheeks. Sage reaches up to cup her cheek and run her thumb along her skin to wipe the tear from her face.

“I know, but you didn’t have to break my heart to do that.”

YEAR 2008 - 4.5 MONTHS TILL GRADUATION

Embry straddles Sage’s hips, running her hands up and down her clothed chest as the two of them sit on Embry’s bed. The door locked like there is a secret while her mother is downstairs and her father at work. Embry lived in a very conservative household. If her parents found out she was upstairs not working on her nonexistent project, but instead making out with her secret girlfriend, Hell would run hotter than Satan’s ass on a summer day. Her father was a pastor after all, so they ran their home in tip top Godly shape.

Sage slides her hands under shirt sending shivers down Embry’s spine as her fingers dance along her back. She lets her lips trace down her neck, nipping slightly against the skin, determined to not leave a mark easily exposed.

Embry pulls away and looks at Sage, eyes bright and full of adoration for the girl in front of her. “What’s on your mind?” Sage asks, running her hands up along bare sides.

“I wish I can kiss you at school,” Embry says.

Sage smirks, pulling Embry closer to nuzzle into her neck. “Not like this, I hope.” Embry laughs and grovels at the feeling of having Sage this close and loving on her like she is the most important thing to her.

“Not exactly, but just be able to kiss you before I leave for class, have lunch together like a couple, and just be open about us,” she says and Sage leans back as Embry remains rooted in her spot on Sage’s lap.

“You still have a boyfriend,” Sage reminds and Embry’s shoulders slump at the thought. When it’s just Sage and her, she forgets all about Greg and then he pops up at school and it’s like a reminder that he still exists. She hates the fact that when she gets close to doing something about it, her parents remind her his family attend the same church and the hopes of ending things turn complicated again. She’s explained all this to Sage, but she knows Sage isn’t thrilled with the excuses, but she tolerates it. The fact that Embry is even willing to only keep their relationship strictly school and church, showed Sage that Embry really didn’t care about the relationship, so she supposes that makes it easier to handle.

“You know that it’s complicated,” Embry says and Sage sighs deeply, frustration setting it as she presses her hands on Embry’s side to lift her off her to sit up. “I’m sorry okay,” Embry says as she watches Sage fix herself.

“Look, I told you.” Sage turns to face Embry on the bed, begging her with her eyes to stay. “I don’t care if we have to hide the relationship, but I didn’t want to share you. I want you completely, even if it is in secret, but you’re still so hung up on appeasing your parents and Greg’s parents that you can’t even give me your all,” Sage explains and Embry shakes her head immediately.

“I am!” Embry yells, but not loud enough for her mother to hear downstairs. “I am doing the best I can Sage. I can’t help that I am some inexperienced whatever the hell my sexuality is, but I know that I want you and I want only you,” Embry explains and Sage sighs once more.

“Then prove it.”

A knock sounds on the door and Embry gets up, walking past Sage who folds her arms around herself as the door opens to reveal Embry’s mother. She smiles widely unaware of what is happening entirely.

“Sorry to interrupt your studying, but I was wondering if Sage would like to stay for dinner?” Embry immediately panics at the thought of Sage and her parents, and her the table having dinner, and quickly Embry goes to tell her mother some form of a lie to get both her and Sage out of a possibly awkward situation.

“I’d love to.” Embry turns her head in shock, eyes wide as Sage merely smiles politely at Embry’s mom. “Thank you so much for inviting me,” she adds smiling widely and Embry’s mother laughs followed by a wave of her hand.

“Oh, it is no trouble honey,” she says. “Well, I better let you girls get back to it.” She shuts the door and Embry turns back to Sage.

“Are you insane?” Embry stands in front of her with fear etching at her.

“I thought it’d be inappropriate to turn down the offer and besides, it gives me the chance to get to know your parents. You talk about how self-righteous they are, I thought it was time I see it for myself,” Sage says nonchalantly.

“They will chew and spit you out alive,” Embry warns.

Sage walks closer to Embry, her breath hitting her lips. “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

“This dinner is amazing Mrs. Greene,” Sage says in between bites as Embry looks on curiously. Sage is acting like she’s been part of this life for her entire life and her parents, mother especially, is eating it up.

“Oh, well thank you Sage that is kind of you to say,” she smiles happily as she gathers more greens on her fork.

“So Sage, you’re a senior too, I presume?” Embry’s father asks as he directs his focus to Sage who just finished her bite.

“Yes sir,” she says with a smile as she looks down at her plate to gather more food for another bite.

“And what are your plans after high school?” He asks and Embry rolls her eyes at the interrogation. She knew it was coming and she warned Sage of what her father does when he meets any other people around her age. He essentially goes into the conversation with a low expectation, when they meet that expectation, he berates them in the nicest way possible, gloats about her plans that aren’t even hers, and basically looks at them, daring them to find a better comeback.

“I plan to attend college. My passion is photography currently, but I like to believe one doesn’t have to have it all figured out prior to entering college,” Sage says as she looks up to meet Embry’s father’s eyes.

“My assumption is you’re planning to attend college for something that is more of a hobby?” He asks and Sage continues to stare slightly challenging.

“Not necessarily, it is an art form, but one that could make someone a lot of money—,” He cuts her off.

“—could being the objective word.” He points his fork out to her with a slight smirk.

Sage blinks slightly and Embry internally screams that she keeps her emotions in tact. “Anything can make you broke too, it just depends on how good you are,” she retorts and he smirks slightly.

“And are you? Good, I mean.”

Sage merely smirks, glancing over at Embry, then returns her attention to her father. “Yes sir, I’m very good.”

Embry walks Sage out to her car that is parked a good distance away due to the limited parking in Embry’s neighborhood.

“I’m sorry about my dad,” Embry says as Sage strolls quietly along the sidewalk, her hands sitting comfortably in her pockets.

“I can handle it,” she smiles, glancing at Embry. “I worry about you though.” Embry stops and Sage does the same, meeting her gaze. “He’s a shark Em and he is killing you with each bite, and before you know it you’ll have nothing left because you’ve bled out. I don’t want that for you.”

“What do you want for me?” Embry asks and Sage shifts on her feet awkwardly.

“I want you to do what you love and what would make you most happy,” she says and Embry sighs, feeling like it’s easier said than done. “I know art is your passion, but I know they will never support you going to art school.” Embry remains silent because she knows Sage is right. “And I know I make you happy and they’re holding you back from being open with me.” She’s right about that too.

Embry lets out a shaky breath. “So what do I do?”

Sage steps closer to Embry and leans forward, kissing her deeply, making her immediately melt into it. Embry hums in contentment at the feeling of her pressed against her. Sage pulls away and continues to stay close. “Do what you think is best.” Sage steps back. “I can see my car from here, so I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says before walking off to head further down the sidewalk, leaving Embry in thought.

She stands there a little while longer before finally letting out a deep breath, and taking her phone out.

Greg:

Hey, I think we need to talk. Come by school early, so we can address things.

She locks her phone and turns back around to head home, hoping her parents have already finished cleaning up from dinner. She didn’t want to see them as nerves coil inside of her about tomorrow.

[ladysmaragdina]

So remember how that ramen joint was opening up across the street from me today? Yeah, me neither.

In other news, HOLY SHIT GUYS, I FIXED MY RAMEN RECIPE. HOLY. SHIT. I’m gonna post it here so that a) I remember how I tweaked the base recipe next time and b) last time I posted about ramen I got about ten requests for this, so here you go.

This is a nice, straightforward, miso ramen. It’s not a super-creamy 18-hour+ tonkotsu ramen. I’m not that godly yet. (I’m also a white person who is not even trying to be authentic)

Okay.

BROTH

(Cook/prep time 7+ hours, can be made in advance)

Until I figure out how to get shit to render properly in a slow cooker, this is a day-long cooking endeavor.

The recipe I’m basing this off of calls for four pounds of pig neck bones, one whole quartered chicken carcass with the breasts removed, and one pig trotter. I don’t have a stockpot big enough to deal with that and am intimidated by pig trotters (and chicken necks, and chicken feet, and other things I probably SHOULD be using), so:

- A couple pounds of pork bones

- A couple pounds of chicken wings

- One onion, chopped

- About ten cloves of garlic

- About a two-inch piece of ginger, peeled and chopped

- One or two carrots, peeled and chopped

- A handful of dried shiitake mushrooms

- One or two sticks of celery, chopped

- Instant dashi*

* Yes, I could make my own dashi with kombu and bonito flakes and such, but fuck that.

Toss your pork bones in a large pot, cover with cold water and bring to a boil. Hold it there, skimming scum off the top, for 20-30 minutes or until scum stops rising. Pork bones are weird; this keeps your stock from smelling funky. One time I didn’t blanch and it was Not Great.

While that’s going, chop your veggies and, optionally, brown your chicken wings.

When the bones are done blanching, dump the water, rinse the bones, rinse out the pot if you’re still using the same one. Toss everything except the celery and the dashi in a large stockpot. Cover with water by an inch or two (if you wanna replace some of the water with a can or two of chicken broth, go for it). Bring to a boil, reduce to the smallest of simmers, and cover. 

Let this go at a bare simmer for at least six hours. I let mine go for ten. You’re not leaving the house today. 

DON’T FUCKING STIR. 

When there’s an hour or two to go, add the celery (DON’T FUCKING STIR).

When it’s done, carefully strain, discard the solids, and add the dashi at a ratio of about 1/2 teaspoon/cup. I save this for last since a) dashi doesn’t like sustained high heat and b) I’m never sure how much liquid I’ll end up with. Incidentally, two cups of broth is about one (very generous!) individual serving, and I’ve got little tupperware containers that hold that much; I’ll dump a teaspoon of dashi into each one and ladle the broth over.

This stuff freezes real well. I usually get about 5-6 bowls of broth out of one batch.

Your broth is gonna taste kinda shitty. It has no salt! Read on.

TARE

(Cook/prep time 15ish minutes, can be made in advance)

Tare = flavoring. I’m still tweaking this part, but today is the first day I feel like I maybe got it right.

I should probably reduce this recipe by a third or so; it makes a FUCKTON of tare (but if you’ve got extra tare left over once your frozen broth runs out, you can half-ass the broth with canned chicken broth, dashi, and whatever aromatics you’ve got floating around. It won’t be as rich, but hey. No pork bones or gristly chicken bits = no collagen to render = no need for a 6-hour cooktime!).

- One cup white miso

- One cup red miso (yes, you want both types. BOTH types. I’ve done this with pre-blended red-and-white (awase) miso, but for some reason it’s not as great)

- At least two or three tbsps soy sauce

- One tbsp sesame oil

- One or two tbsps tahini (if you don’t have tahini - I opened mine today and found it was moldy - double or maybe triple the sesame oil)

- One or two tbsps rice wine vinegar

- At least six cloves of garlic, grated

- About a two-inch piece of ginger, peeled and grated

- Half an onion, grated

- Sichimi togarashi to taste (a teaspoon? half a teaspoon?)

- Salt and/or - gasp! - MSG to taste

Mix it all up into a paste. Taste it. Is it salty as absolute fuck? If not, add more soy/salt. Then a little more to be sure.

This also freezes real well.

FAT

(Cook/prep time 30ish minutes + however long it took you to accumulate the bacon grease, can be made in advance)

This is TOTALLY OPTIONAL, but! It’ll give you that nice shimmery aroma-trapping film of fat on the top of the bowl.

- Grease from maybe one package of bacon (if you’re not straining and saving the grease from whenever you cook bacon, SHAME. You can also just buy lard - but. BACON.)

- The other half of your onion, chopped

- Some more ginger, peeled and chopped

- Maybe a dozen cloves of garlic

Cook the onions, garlic and ginger in the fat until golden - maybe half an hour? Strain, discard solids. Now you’ve got garlic-ginger-onion infused bacon fat. Congratulations.

This keeps in the fridge real well.

TOPPING: CHILI-GARLIC STUFF

(Cook/prep time 15ish minutes, can be made in advance)

This isn’t a recipe so much as “shit I threw together at the last minute because I realized that miso ramen goes well with spicy things.” Take some minced garlic, vegetable or sesame oil, a lot of sichimi togarashi, and whatever else (sesame seeds? Sugar?). Saute until the garlic is blackish and sticky. If you’re feeling less lazy than I was, puree. Toss that shit on as a topping because, since you made it, it’s fancier than sriracha. Yaaaaay.

TOPPING: MARINATED EGG

(Cook/prep time 6-8 hours, CANNOT be made in advance)

Soft-boil an egg! Bring a pot of water to a boil, dump in an egg that’s still cold from the fridge, and boil for six minutes; your margin of error here is maybe thirty seconds each way. Shock in icewater. Peel, carefully. Marinate in a 3/2/1 ratio of soy sauce, rice wine vinegar, and sake (you can skip the sake, or add other things like ginger or extra sugar, or whatever), folding a paper towel over the top to soak up the liquid and ensure the top off the egg soaks too.

Marinate for six or perhaps eight hours, definitely no more than ten. Too short in the marinade, and you won’t pick up much  flavor (you’ll still have a nice soft-boiled egg, though). Too long, and your egg will start getting weird and rubbery.

NOODLES

Noodles

(does... does Amazon seriously have these listed for $25 a pack? They’re like $3 at my local Asian market. Good lord.)

Seriously, if you’ve read this far... don’t use instant noodles. Fresh noodles are amazing. I buy Sun Ramen’s frozen miso ramen kits and toss out the flavoring packet. (Lowball the cooking time. The miso noodles say to cook for 2:15; I give them maaaaaaybe two minutes)

All this shit (minus the egg) fucking freezes, and fresh noodles are no exception. Give them a day to thaw in the fridge before using.

ASSEMBLY

The fucking GREAT thing about ramen is that ALL THIS SHIT FUCKING FREEZES and you can just heat it up later. So:

- Thaw/heat up your broth, heat up your water for the noodles.

- While that’s going, dump about a tablespoon of your infused fat and an ice-cream-scoop of tare into your bowl (honestly, I add tare to the point of saturation). Prep any toppings you want - take the egg out of the marinade, chop green onions, whatever. Set the table. Pour your drink. Do all that shit now.

- When your water and broth are both boiling, dump the noodles in the water and start a timer for them. While that’s going, dump your broth into your bowl and wisk until the fat melts and the tare is incorporated (don’t forget to give the noodles a stir or two during this so they don’t clump). 

- Drain the noodles, briefly shock under cold water, and dump in your bowl. Quickly. Fresh ramen noodles are WEIRD. If you don’t shock them, they’ll keep cooking and go mushy; if you don’t get them from boiling water to bowl in less than ten seconds, they clump like fuck. (I have never tried to time the noodles for multiple servings of ramen for multiple people. I am vaguely terrified to)

- Toppings

- IT IS FOOD

And there you go!

...You’ll notice I’m missing a recipe for everyone’s favorite topping: chashu pork. Honestly, I live alone, this is SO MUCH FOOD that chashu pork feels excessive. Don’t let me stop you. Go do what I cannot.

[soworthloving]

Temple

By Maddie Young

As I sit here staring at the screen I'm filled with aggravation and pain. I've written countless blog posts and journal entries but this is by far the hardest thing for me to write about. Part of me doesn't understand. I don't understand how I can write about a tornado and trauma with my father but can't even think to begin to write about this. It feels like it shouldn't be this difficult. I've been hiding from the truth practically my whole life.

All I can think about is an alcoholic reaching for his next cold one regardless of the situation or time of day. That's how I feel with you, ED. You're far worse than an abusive relationship. You're there when I wake up, when I'm happy, when I'm sad or anxious, when I'm trying to go to sleep. You're there every minute of every day. Quite frankly, you're exhausting. It's always one extreme or the other. I eat too much or I eat way too little or not at all. I spend over two hours in the gym or don't do anything at all. There's no in between. You make me so mad. I feel like I've done everything yet still can't get rid of you. I want to blame it on my father since that's when it seems you decided to first come around. I was so young and so vulnerable. There would be weekends with no food or water. What kind of parent doesn't care to properly nourish their own child? Anger arouses. The enemy had swooped in and already taken control.

Then I begin to think how could anyone allow themselves to skip meals and in turn lay on the bathroom floor crying because it felt like they were going to be sick? But I allowed it. It was a coping mechanism. ED, you teamed up with the enemy and filled my mind with lies. My heart hurts and filled with cheerlessness.

I've allowed other people to walk all over me because of you. I believed that I was ugly and fat and can barely look in a mirror now because of it. The people I love the most and look up to would ask, “Are you really going to wear that?” Or “Do you think you should eat that?” Now I hide in dark, looser clothes because I'm embarrassed and broken.

Hopelessness and fear. Anger and jealousy. Sadness and pain. Regret and shame. Restraint and burdens. I feel trapped and a failure. All strong and powerful feelings and thoughts swirl in my mind as I begin to allow myself to experience something that I've never done before. It's completely outside of my comfort zone and honestly, I don't like it.

The figure and shape on the outside can't even begin to represent the person I am on the inside. There's this picture in my head. A tall, beautiful girl dancing freely and confidently in fields of sunflowers and wildflowers. She radiates desire and grace. That's who I long to be.

I've prayed and continue to pray. I know that I can only experience complete freedom through Jesus. Without Him the enemy and Ed will continue to tear me down. I am reminded in 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 that my body's a temple and won't magically be built overnight. He has placed Godly women in my life to speak truth and wisdom over me when my mind begins to trick me into thinking I can't overcome this. As badly as I wish that my fairy godmother could wave her magic wand and all of this mess would magically be fixed, I am beginning to accept the challenge and time that it'll take. I've faced many challenges in my short life on earth and with each step I've grown in my faith and relationship with Jesus. I've watched one sister fight Ed and is now living out life in freedom. This is a gleam of strength and hope. I will continue to be vulnerable and trust that my Heavenly Father continues to take care of me. It's time for a new season in my journey. I know it won't be easy. It'll be hard. Very hard. But I've fought like hell to get where I am and I don't plan to stop until I can finally say I've broken up with Ed. With Jesus and sweet sisters by my side, I will overcome this.