#it's not free technically. but all my art stuff is stuff that's over five years old that I got as gifts. it was free for me

[neverendingford]

sequel to my last piece because my mood did its swing back again.

[the-east-art]

IDK if this counts as a Hagstone ask, but what is Hagstone? Could you give me the rundown? Or do you have a post where you explain the basics already?

Yes!!! It definitely counts!!! Let me tell you about my OCs and their story!

Hagstone is a story that I've been working on with @browniefox on and off for about seven years now! We've made at least one or two complete drafts of the first book, and I'm currently going through and rewriting the first book for (hopefully) the last time! and then it will be done! Hagstone is intended to be a duology, so just two books long.

enjoy this seven year old art when I was first developing the characters! The tag is Hagstone, but to find ALL the art I've ever done on it check the tag wtgp - it had the temporary title of 'Way to go Paul' for like... four or five years, referencing a Vine which I can't remember why we did that haha. There aren't any characters named Paul in it.

The story is about Kyle - a recent college dropout - who has to find new housing after an Event at his old place. He moves in with the eclectic Eldan - and over the course of the book gains new housemates (none of who are actually human) and discovers a dark danger lurking under the town.

(are by @browniefox) The story itself focuses on themes of struggling to let go of the past and face the future, dealing with grief, depression, and combatting loneliness.

One of the reasons I wrote this story was that I was really tired of stories that constantly have a 'normal' character who later realizes they're Secretly half witch or a fea or whatever so a big part of the story is the fact that Kyle is a very Human person with no magical abilities and how he interacts with the magical world.

The main characters are Kyle (of course) an anxious, depressed, and self conscious guy with a special interest in bugs and anger issues.

Eldan - the oldest living Fae who always seems to know more than everyone else and has been reportedly 'in a funk' (didn't leave his house) for many decades leading up to the story.

Marion - An acerbic vampire only a century or two old with trust issues and a secret soft side. He has been ostracized by the local vampire covens for reasons not yet known.

Ollie (Oleander) - Hailing from a family of monster hunters, Ollie is a sweet boy who can transform into a giant beast. His family are technically a line of Gargoyles but many centuries ago Eldan blessed them, hence the furriness of the transformation and the lack of being made of stone. However, something has happened recently causing him to go to Eldan on behalf of his family for help.

and Jonah! - Jonah is the ghost that haunts the house with few memories of his time alive whose death is connected to the darkness that lurks under the town.

(if you look you can see that Jonah and Ollie were recently renamed. Ollie was originally Leander but that read and wrote too similarly to the name 'Eldan', so we changed his name to Oleander and have him go by 'Ollie'. But THEN that was too close to the name Odon, so we changed Odons' name to Jonah. I'm much happier with these names and I think they are now distinct enough from one another, but it may be confusing if you're looking at old stuff)

That's the basic so please feel free to ask questions about the story, the characters, or if you want to meet some of the side characters in the story!

[dinosquad-central]

Alright, after running this blog for over a year I've decided to make an actual pinned post—complete with a guide to my tagging system.

First off, who am I?

I am the sole moderator of dinosquad-central, obviously. You may call me Dino Mod, and I use any pronouns, including neopronouns that do not begin with x or z.

My Favorite characters are Caruso and Buzz. I don't actually know that much about dinosaurs in general; I just think they're neat. I'm the event coordinator on the Dino Squad discord server. And I love getting asks! (Although sometimes it takes me a day or two to answer them)

I tag posts with #dino mod to indicate that they are either original posts from me, or things I've reblogged wherein I added something to the body of the post, rather than just the tags. So if you want to browse my thoughts on the show, that's the tag to do it.

Now that you know who I am, what's Dino Squad and where can you watch it?

Dino Squad is a 2007 cartoon about five teenagers who can turn into dinosaurs, and you can watch it for free on YouTube. The first episode is called "The Beginning", but the series is episodic, so the order you watch doesn't really matter after that. If you want to watch in in order, there's an episode list on IMDB.

In the immortal words of my original pinned post, reblogged from @/deerlyloved: "Dinosquad is so bad please watch it forever 😌"

If you already know Dino Squad and want to hang out with other fans, we have a discord server! Anyone is welcome to join.

Is there anything else you should know?

Yeah, a couple of things, actually. But this is already getting long, so I'll continue under the readmore.

Firstly, I need to give credit where credit is due, and make sure y'all know that the person who made the banner I use for this blog, which is also the quintessential "there's like five of us" dinosquad fandom meme, is @scoutbot. Everyone say "thank you, scoutbot!"

My profile pic, on the other hand, is lifted from official Dino Squad promotional material, but if anyone wants to draw me a new one, I'd be willing to trade you a fic for it—DM me if interested.

Secondly, there's one type of tag I don’t list in the tag guide, and that's the type I use to fawn all over everybody's Dino Squad posts. In such a small fandom, every time someone makes something new for it, they do so knowing it won't get much engagement, so I want to make sure they get at least one person who with enthusiastically give a kind, thoughtful, personalized comment on their post. Creating for a small fandom can feel thankless, but I want to mitigate that as much as possible by saying thank you thank you thank you for hanging out with us and participating in our fandom.

I'll mention it a few times in this post, but as long as you tag a post with #dino squad (as one word or two) I am basically guaranteed to see it, and I'll reblog almost anything in this fandom. So if you want more of the stuff you like, I strongly encourage you to create it! I love to see new takes and new faces in this fandom, and I will always lift you up.

I think that’s it.

Wait, didn't I say something about a tagging guide?

Buckle in, because my tagging system is extensive and thorough.

Lets start with Basic Tags.

Every post about the show (which is 99% of what I post, since this is a Dino Squad blog) is tagged with both #dino squad (two words) and #dinosquad (one word).

In most other tags that feature the name of the show, I use the one word version, for consistency. More on that later.

Posts that are not about the show, usually either dinosaur/paleontology related posts, or occasionally technical information about this blog itself, are tagged with #not dinosquad. For cool dino fun facts and art, this is the tag to explore.

Every post on this blog contains at least one of these tags.

Next, how about some Character Tags.

Whenever a character is mentioned or very strongly implied in a post, I tag it with their full name, similar to AO3's character tags. You can follow any of these links to read every post featuring that character.

#Victor Veloci—That's his name, don't wear it out!

#Joanne Moynihan—AKA Ms. Moynihan, beloved mentor of the squad

#Rolf Maxwell—AKA Max, the squad's fearless leader

#Fiona Flagstaff—The Girl™

#Rodger Blair—Smartest kid in school

#Neil Buzzmati—AKA Buzz, the one who likes "punk stuff"

#Erwin Caruso—Yeah, his first name is Erwin

#Peter (Veloci's Assistant)—Remember him? Appears once in the first episode and never again?

#Rump (dinosquad)—The squad's pet dino-dog

#Liam (dinosquad)—Fan favorite autistic character

#Terri Flagstaff—Fiona's sister

#Winifred the Snake—Buzz's pet python

Obviously, some of these characters are going to have more posts in their tag than others, simply because people like and post about some characters more than others. If you want more post about your favorite character, Make Them. As long as you tag your posts with the fandom, I can basically guarantee I'll find them and reblog them to this blog.

That's not all, though, because there are also a lot of original fandom characters, and I tag for those, too.

If you want to see all of them, I use the tag #dinosquad oc on every post that features one, but I also tag them with the OC's name, in case you're curious about a specific one.

#Vega Veloci—Teenage transfem lesbian clone of Victor Veloci, created by @prometheus-adam

#Violette Veloci—Another female teenage clone of Vitor Veloci (though which one of them is trans is left to interpretation), created by @ufolvr

#Valentino Veloci—Male teenage clone of Victor Veloci, created by @al-gay-tor

#Iggy and Chloe—A pair of OCs by @musekicker who will be given individual tags when they have full names

#Gyrian Maelstrom—Buzz's dad who works for RaptorDyne and is also a dinosaur, created by @ufolvr

#Moss 'Rat King'—RaptorDyne employee self-insert, created by @hotratking5592

#Thysbe Ginko—RaptorDyne employee favored by Victor Veloci, created by @boysiinberry

#Miss Disma and Mouche—Head of PR at Raptordyne and her assistant, created by @boysiinberry

#Kalyeen—Raptordyne grunt, created by @boysiinberry

A lot of people seem to think that Veloci would be into cloning—can't say I would argue with them lol. On the discord server, people have shared way more OCs than this, but I can only reblog the ones that get posted about on tumblr. I anticipate this list will grow.

Ship Tags are a subset of character tags

Like with characters, if a ship is explicitly mentioned or strongly implied in a post, I will tag it with a ship tag in the format of characterA x characterB where A is the character whose surname comes first alphabetically. Posts about ships are also tagged with #Shipping.

#Rodger x Max—Those who like this ship often cite S1E2 "Growth Potential" as one reason

#Buzz x Caruso—Those who like this ship have cited S1E12 "Not so Great Outdoors" as one reason

#Moynihan x Veloci—A ship that is much more popular on the discord server than on tumblr

#Peter x Veloci—Remember Peter? Appears once in the first episode and then never again?

#Fiona x Vega—Ship between Fiona and @prometheus-adam's OC, Vega Veloci

#Caruso x Max—Those who like this ship have cited S2E10 "Scents and Scents Ability" as one reason

#Ginko x Veloci—Ship between Victor Veloci and @boysiinberry's OC, Thysbe Ginko

Most of the ship tags are pretty lightly populated, some only have one post. Suffice it to say, shippers are a minority in this fandom, but I still dutifully tag ships when they appear. If you want to see more of your fave ships, or have an idea for a ship not on this list, Create for it! I will happily reblog any ship for this fandom.

Now, let me tell you about my Categorical Tags

If you're looking for a specific type of post, for example, if you just want to scroll through all the headcanon posts, or all the fanart, that's what the categorical tags are for. These tags are usually accompanied by the word 'dinosquad' somewhere in there, and many of them are listed as featured tags on this blog as well.

#Ask—Someone sent me an ask to which I decided to post a public reply

#Character Analysis—These posts will always be tagged with the character being analyzed as well

#Crossover—These posts will always be tagged with both the other fandom in the crossover, and the primary character(s) from the other fandom that feature in the crossover

#Dinosquad AU—Posts about the Dino Squad characters or concepts in an alternate universe, whether it's completely different, or just minor canon divergence

#Dinosquad Fanart—Also tagged with #art and #fanart, in addition to the fandom specific tag

#Dinosquad Fic—Fan writing, typically, but not always, in the form of a link to Archive of Our Own

#Dinosquad Headcanons—Posts containing either a single headcanon, or a list of headcanons regarding the characters or world of the show

#Dinosquad Meta—Posts about the technical aspects of the show, like animation or writing, as opposed to the plot/characters/etc.

#Dinosquad Theory—Theories about the show, both in regard to the plot/characters, and the production (but usually the former)

#Episode Review—Posts in which a specific episode of the show is being analyzed, summarized, or otherwise reviewed

#Incorrect Dinosquad—Also tagged with #incorrect quotes, in addition to the fandom specific tag

#Poll—Posts that have at least one poll in them

#Prompt—Idea(s) meant to inspire the creativity of the members of this fandom. General prompts are distinct from the Dinosquad Monthly Prompts in that anyone can post them at any time. (more on the monthly prompts later)

#Rereblog—Posts that have been on this blog before but I'm reblogging again, either because something new has been added to them, or because there was nothing new for me to post, so I picked some old favorites to pad my queue. This tag stands in the place of all the things I originally tagged the post with, so when I use it I'll only add tags that apply to the new reblog

Most of these tags are self explanatory. Many have sub-categorical tags, which I've included either in the descriptions above, or in the Content Tags section.

After that come the Content Tags

Content tags tell you what's in the post, aside from characters, obviously.

#From the Dinosquad Discord Server—Posts containing content which was screen-shot or copy/pasted from the fandom discord server

#Dinosquad Monthly Prompt—The monthly prompts are part of an ongoing, year-round event hosted by the fandom discord server. Posts in this tag include not only the monthly prompts themselves, but also art and fic created to fill the monthly prompt. Members of the fandom server can DM me on discord to suggest prompts.

#Dinosquad Secret Santa 2022—We did a fandom holiday gift exchange in 2022 and posts with this tags are the gifts created for it

#Digital Art and #Traditional Art—Two self-explanatory sub-categorical tags for Dino Squad fanart

#Feathered Dino Forms—Posts wherein the characters' dino forms are described as or drawn having feathers

#Overheard at RaptorDyne—Posts about working at RaptorDyne, mostly incorrect quotes.

#Max Gets No Respect—Posts about the squad disrespecting Max, also mostly incorrect quotes

#Morally Gray Ms. Moynihan—Posts talking about the possibility of Ms. Moynihan keeping the kids dinosaurs on purpose, or similar theories/headcanons/AUs/etc.

#Trans Buzz—Posts regarding the popular headcanon that Buzz is a trans man

#LGBT+—Posts containing queer content, such as sexuality/gender identity headcanons for characters

#Trans—Same as above, but for specifically trans-related content

#Screencaps—Posts containing screen captures from the show

#Memes—Posts containing memes either related to the show or otherwise

There are probably a few more character-specific ones that I have forgotten, but I'll keep updating this tag guide continually as needed.

There is no #Gay Caruso tag because... well... Caruso. That would be every post about him lol. Maybe one day I'll go through his character tag and add it to every post where it's relevant but it'll have to wait until I'm really, really bored.

Lastly, I have Warning Tags

I don't really have warning tags for things that were in the show, like I'm not gonna have a warning tag for sharp teeth or carnivorous eating habits, because... well... it's a show about dinosaurs. If you had a problem with that kind of thing, you probably wouldn't be here. I also won't use the CW tags for passing mentions—my thinking is that if something's not really in the post I don't really need to tag for it.

#Cursing—I know most people don't have a problem with explicit language, but this blog is technically for a kids' show, so there it is

#Blood CW—For posts containing depictions or descriptions of blood

#Injury CW—For posts containing depictions or descriptions of one or more injuries

#Death CW—For posts containing depictions or descriptions of death

#Body Horror—For posts containing depictions or descriptions of body horror (excluding dinosaur tranformations)

#Long Post—For posts that are more than two screen-lengths on mobile. I will not tag something as a long post if it has a readmore, unless the part before the readmore is longer than 2 screen-lengths.

If there is anything not on this list you would like me to have a warning tag for, or if there's a post you think should have one of these warnings, but I forgot to add it, just shoot me a DM, or an ask, and 99% of the time, I will gladly add a warning tag.

Well done making it to the end! GOOooo GO DINO!

[rose-of-pollux]

Book Quiz thing

Tagged by @carriagelamp

Tagging @belphegor1982, @threephantomrey, and anyone else who wants to do this!

How many books did you read this year? Too many to keep track of...

Did you reread anything? What? That's All Folks: The Art of Warner Bros. Animation--this was a book on the history of the original Looney Tunes/Merrie Melodies that I first read as a kid when it was in my elementary school library--it was way, way, way over elementary school reading levels (it's a grown-up nonfiction coffee-table sized book about the history of the WB cartoons and all the technical stuff) and I honestly have no idea what it was doing there aside from someone looking at it and going "Oh, Bugs Bunny? That's for kids, right?" But no one stopped me from reading it then and I was a high-level reader--though some stuff went flying over my head, but when I found the same book at a used book sale earlier this year, I got it to see what I might've missed back then.

What were your top five books of the year? The Writings of Paul Frees: Scripts and Songs from the Master of Voice -- Paul Frees You’d Be So Nice To Come Home To: The Letters of Paul “Buddy” Frees and Annelle Frees -- Paul & Annelle Frees That's All Folks: The Art of Warner Bros. Animation -- Steve Schneider (hey, I enjoyed that nostalgic reread, especially now that I could understand all the intricacies...) Not Dead Yet -- Phil Collins Andy and Don: The Making of a Friendship and a Classic American TV Show -- Daniel De Vise

Did you discover any new authors that you love this year? If by "new," you mean "new to me," then, yes--Paul Frees! Yes, he's an amazing voice actor and the best Ghost Host ever, but he's also a great writer!

What genre did you read the most of? Nonfiction

Was there anything you meant to read, but never got to? *laughs and then cries*

What was your average Goodreads rating? Does it seem accurate? Don't have that

Did you meet any of your reading goals? Which ones? I don't really set any goals, I just read when I can.

Did you get into any new genres? Nope

What was your favorite new release of the year? Shadecursed by @chaoskirin

What was your favorite book that has been out for a while, but you just now read? The Writings of Paul Frees: Scripts and Songs from the Master of Voice

Any books that disappointed you? I started Wicked since I love the musical, quickly realized it was not what I wanted and bailed.

What were your least favorite books of the year? I didn't remember anything I didn't like--if it didn't do anything for me, I bailed after the first chapter; I only remember Wicked because I sought that out.

What books do you want to finish before the year is over? It's December 31, I'll never make it 😅

Did you read any books that were nominated for or won awards this year (Booker, Women’s Prize, National Book Award, Pulitzer, Hugo, etc.)? What did you think of them? Don't think so...

What is the most over-hyped book you read this year? Wicked

Did any books surprise you with how good they were? I knew I was going to enjoy Paul's writings, but I was underestimating just how much.

How many books did you buy? ...A Lot 😅

Did you use your library? Sadly no; I should remedy that.

What was your most anticipated release? Did it meet your expectations? I wasn't really anticipating anything.

Did you participate in or watch any booklr, booktube, or book twitter drama? No, but I watched ReviewGate from afar.

What’s the longest book you read? Andy & Don. I think.

What’s the fastest time it took you to read a book? One day.

Did you DNF anything? Why? Anything that didn't capture my interest, plus Wicked.

What reading goals do you have for next year? Not setting any, whatever I read, I read.

[theygotlost]

2023 book log/year in review!

here is a comprehensive of breakdown of every book I read this year!!

Terry Pratchett's Discworld

this was THE YEAR OF DISCWORLD for me. I read more disc books than non disc books. I'm probably gonna take a break from the series for a few weeks to get my breath back. I read my first ever disc book, Going Postal, in december of 2022 so it doesn't technically count as being part of this year, but here's every one that I read starting in january, in the order I read them:

Making Money

Raising Steam 

Guards! Guards! (x2)

Men at Arms (x2)

Soul Music

Feet of Clay

Mort

Jingo

The Fifth Elephant

Night Watch

Wyrd Sisters

Faust Eric

The Wee Free Men

Witches Abroad

Thud!

Monstrous Regiment

The Truth

Lords and Ladies

Hogfather

Rereads

The Fourth Bear is kind of whatever but rereading all the others has cemented them as some of my favorite books and I'm really glad I got to experience them again because I hadn't read them in years 😁

The Fourth Bear by Jasper Fforde

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

How I Killed Pluto (and Why It Had It Coming) by Mike Brown

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams

The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul by Douglas Adams

Other Books

It's kind of embarrassing to see how this list pales in comparison to all the disc books but I WAS reading other stuff I swear!! look!!

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami

Sacrifice by Mitchell Smith

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin

20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne

The Lost Future of Pepperharrow by Natasha Pulley

I Am Legend by Richard Matheson

Did Not Finish

Some of these I got through more of than others. the really bad ones I dropped only after 50 pages or so. im sorry women.

Closing Time by Joseph Heller

Early Riser by Jasper Fforde 

The Real and the Unreal, vol. 2: Outer Space, Inner Lands by Ursula K. Le Guin

A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin

Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann

Total Stats

Books started: 36

Books finished: 31

Books finished that I hadn't read before: 26 (19 Discworld, 7 not)

I PROMISE I'm not trying to be one of those "30 books in 30 days!" type booktok people, I wasn't aiming for any specific number. I only read this many books because i genuinely really loved them and couldn't stop reading them!!!!!!!

Reading List for 2024

I have an even longer list than this with a bunch of books that I saw or were recommended to me and I thought "oh that seems interesting maybe I'll check it out" but who knows if I will actually get to them. this list below is basically a new years resolution, books that I fully intend to read this year:

Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr (already currently reading this one, just need to finish it)

Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Facing the Wave: A Journey in the Wake of the Tsunami by Gretel Ehrlich

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel

The Watchmaker of Filigree Street by Natasha Pulley

The Bedlam Stacks by Natasha Pulley

The Half Life of Valery K by Natasha Pulley

Fun Home by Alison Bechdel

Maus by Art Spiegelman

Discworld Reading List

Yes, I am keeping this one separate. I don't necessarily intend to get to all of these by the end of 2024, just some time in the future (I probably will end up reading them all next year anyway LOL). Once I finish these, only the Rincewind and Tiffany Aching series remain. I'm not as interested in those based on the small sampling I got of them, but I'll probably read them all at some point just for the sake of completion.

Moving Pictures

Snuff

Reaper Man

Pyramids

Small Gods

Equal Rites

Maskerade

Carpe Jugulum

it's kind of scary to think that this is all thats left..... idk what im gonna do after that man..... kill myself? start over from the beginning? I guess ill just have to cross that bridge when I get to it ☹

happy new year everypony!!!!

[karmic-vibes]

If I Can Dream

11 - Blow Away the Doubt and Fear

art credit: @lazylittledragon on tumblr and lazyjunebug on twitter

cw: gender dysphoria

Year: 1988

Eddie’s due date was quickly creeping up on the couple—they often found themselves in a panic, realizing how much they had to do. From moving into their new home, to painting the nursery, to the nightmare that was assembling the crib, to trying to throw together a baby shower (mainly to get free things for the baby).

Technically, Eddie wasn’t due until mid-November, but during the last week of October, he started to feel off. His back was killing him, he was constantly getting quick, sharp pains in his abdomen (presumably from Bonnie moving around), and there was constant pressure on his pelvic floor.

Needless to say, he was miserable.

While Steve was making dinner one evening, Eddie stood up from the couch, only to quickly fall back down. Steve poked his head in when he heard Eddie grunt in pain, concerned for his husband. He lowered the temperature on the stove and walked in, kneeling down next to Eddie.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” he panted.

“Okay, breathe, Ed. What happened?”

“I got up to use the bathroom and some stuff came out of me and now the couch and my pants are all wet.” Steve’s eyes bulged before whispering shit and fuck to himself repeatedly. “What? What, Steve?”

“Your water broke…”

“Holy shit, holy shit! What the fuck do we do?”

“Stay calm, labor usually takes a while with your first kid. Let’s try and get some food in you because once you’re there, they won’t let you eat.”

“Okay… okay…” Eddie breathed, hand resting atop his bump.

“Let me know when you start feeling contractions, alright? I’ll time them and when they’re like four or five minutes apart we’ll head to the hospital. Sound good?” Eddie frantically nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna finish dinner and get you some water. Sit tight.”

Steve rushed to finish making dinner for the two of them. He tried getting Eddie to eat as much as possible before they headed into the hospital, because lord knows how long this was going to take. Eddie’s contractions gradually started to appear, becoming more and more painful as the time went on.

Initially, he barely noticed them, thinking it was mild cramping, but about two hours in, he wanted to rip his whole uterus out. His back felt like there was a knife in it while someone was twisting and turning the blade. His pelvic floor felt like an elephant was standing on it, putting all the pressure in the world onto it.

Nearly five hours in, Eddie’s contractions were four minutes apart. Steve had already set up the car seat and packed their overnight bags, along with outfits for Bonnie. Steve slung Eddie’s arm around his shoulder as Steve kept his around Eddie’s waist. The two took baby steps to the car, Eddie whining in pain with every few steps.

With complete [dis]regard to traffic laws, Steve managed to get Eddie to the hospital in seemingly record time. Given the time of night, they had to be admitted through the E.R.—they could not get rid of Eddie fast enough, so in ten or so minutes, he was transferred to labor and delivery.

His team of nurses and midwives got him set up on their monitors, recording his vitals, and setting him up to monitor the baby’s heart rate. After about an hour, they noticed his labor was slowing down, so they allowed him to get up and walk around.

He found himself hunched over the hospital bed, with Steve gently rubbing his back. During each contraction, Eddie frantically reached for Steve’s hand and squeezed the life out of it. As much as it hurt, Steve knew better than to complain about the pain from it.

“Hey, do you–“

“Mmm…” Eddie hummed in pain, head resting on his arm on the bed.

“Do you maybe take the rings off… for like five minutes‽” Eddie glanced up at Steve, sweat pouring from his forehead—if Eddie’s look could kill, Steve would be six feet under. “What if I just…”

Steve started taking his rings off when the contractions passed. Eddie continued glaring at him, wondering where his husband got the audacity to remove his rings. Once they were all safely tucked away in the overnight bag, the doctor headed in to do Eddie’s hourly dilation check. He got settled back in the bed and firmly held a grip on Steve’s hand. The doctor squirted the gel onto Eddie’s abdomen and did a final sonogram check.

“How’re you feeling, Eddie?” Dr. Griffin asked, still staring at the screen.

“Oh, just peachy. You know, there’s a tiny person trying to crawl its way out of me.”

“Actually, she’s not.”

“What?” Eddie and Steve asked.

“She’s breech. There’s a lot of risks with her being in the position she’s in, and a lot of risks for you too.”

“Like what?” Eddie asked.

“You would be risking hemorrhaging from tearing, possible heart dysthymia from trying to push, among a few other things.”

“And for our daughter?” Steve whispered.

“Well, depending on how she works her way out, which, as of right now, it looks like her behind will be first, you risk her head getting stuck, shoulder dystocia, or getting wrapped in her cord, which could cause harm to the placenta.”

“Christ,” Eddie cried, burying his head in his hands.

“Now, if you still want to try pushing and having a natural delivery, we can do that, but I do highly recommend we get you in the O.R. and perform a c-section.”

“Stevie…” Eddie whispered. “What do I do?”

“Whatever you want to do, Eds. But, if I’m being honest, I would feel more comfortable if you got the c-section. I just feel like it’s safer for you and Bon.”

“C-section it is then,” Eddie sighed.

“Okay, I’ll send anesthesia in to get you set up, then a nurse will be in afterwards to prep you for the procedure. Mr. Harrington, we’ll have a CNA take you to get scrubbed in shortly.”

“Thank you,” Steve said.

Before they knew it, Eddie was numb from the neck down and Steve was in hospital scrubs. The procedure went well with no complications—once the umbilical cord was cut, she was held up for Eddie to see. He burst into tears and a smile was plastered across his face.

“Hi, baby girl,” he sobbed. “We love you so much… so glad you’re okay.”

“Hi, Bonnie,” Steve cried. “You’re so pretty, honey, yes you are.”

“We’re going to get her washed up,” a nurse said.

“I’ve never seen you cry before,” Steve said.

“Shut up,” Eddie sniffed. “So… we’re dads…”

“We are dads,” Steve chuckled as he wiped his tears away.

“What the fuck do we do now?”

“We’ll figure it out.” Steve kissed Eddie’s forehead and smiled fondly at him.

“Alright, Ed, we’re gonna stitch you up.”

“Uh, wait,” Steve said.

“Wait? What do you mean wait?” Eddie hissed. “I’m wide open here, Harrington!”

“Can you um… as long as it’s okay with my spouse, can you guys do a full hysterectomy? You know, just while you’re already there?” Steve said.

“Wait, Steve… are you sure?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah… I’m sure.”

“But… you want more kids?”

“The one we have is enough… I promise.”

“Thank you,” Eddie cried.

“Eddie, are you okay with that? If we perform a full hysterectomy?” Dr. Griffin asked.

“God, yes! Get it out of me!” he chuckled as he sobbed. “Steve, fill out whatever paperwork you need to. To anyone listening, he can do it on my behalf.”

“Do you even want to know the risks or what’s going to happen?” Dr. Griffin asked.

“I don’t care about the risks and I know to expect fatigue and hot flashes and an increase in testosterone. Now let’s go, get it out.”

“Alright, we’ll have anesthesia increase your current dose. Mr. Harrington, if you would like to de-scrub and join your daughter in the nursery you are more than welcome.”

“Thank you.” He leaned down and kissed Eddie. “I love you so much. I’m proud of you. Good luck.”

“I love you too. You can handle Bonnie’s paperwork, right?”

“Yeah, I got it, don’t worry.”

“Okay… tell her I love her.”

“I will.”

Several hours later, Steve was sitting in Eddie’s postpartum room, cradling Bonnie against his chest. Eddie gradually woke up, extremely groggy, to find his husband smiling fondly at their daughter.

“Don’t you two look cozy,” Eddie mumbled.

“You’re awake,” Steve whispered.

“Sorta,” Eddie quietly chuckled.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Tired, but fine. Can I see my girl?”

“Of course…” Steve stood up and gingerly passed the newborn over to Eddie before joining his husband on the bed.

“Holy shit… holy shit… holy shit, dude, we made this!”

“Yeah, we did…” Steve grinned. “Are you crying?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup… god, she’s beautiful.”

“She takes after her dad,” Steve beamed.

“Yeah, she does,” Eddie teased. “That shit hurt a lot, by the way. She better be cool.”

“With you as a dad? She’ll be just fine.”

“We’ve got this… right?”

“Yeah… we’ve got this.”

“Mister– oh, Eddie, you’re awake. How’re you feeling?” Nurse Abbey asked.

“A little groggy, but okay overall.”

“I just came in to check your stitches and give you all of your daughter’s paperwork.”

“Oh, okay. Wanna take her, Steve?”

“Yeah, I got her.”

“Support her head, she’s very tiny and fragile.”

“I got her, Eds, don’t worry.” Steve held his daughter in his arms as Abbey changed out Eddie’s bandages and took his vitals.

“Wonderful, I’ll be back in three hours. Ring your call-bell if you need me sooner for anything.”

“Thanks.”

“And here’s the paperwork.”

“I’ll take that,” Steve said, taking the legal envelope from her hands. “Here you go.”

He handed Bonnie back to Eddie so he could gush over her some more. Steve removed the documents to make sure everything was in order.

“Uh, Ed.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t be mad.”

“Why?”

“Um…”

“Why, Steve?”

“Look…”

He showed his husband the copy of the information sent in for the birth certificate, along with her commemorative copy of said certificate with her footprints. Eddie read it over several times before laughing to himself.

Name: Bobby Judas Harrington

Date of Birth: October 31, 1988

Time of Birth: 06:06

Height: 19.2in

Weight: 6.3lbs

“Why’re you laughing?” Steve asked.

“They messed up her name,” Eddie continued to laugh.

“The person taking down her information must’ve misheard me.”

“It’s alright.” Eddie shrugged and smiled. “She looks more like a Bobby anyways.”

[goldenraeofsun]

A/b/o + celebrities and/or coffee shop 👀

Thanks so much for the prompt, Julesy, and I'm so sorry for the long wait! Part II should be up in the next few days, but hopefully this beginning 7k will satisfy for the time being 😘

Castiel is elbow-deep in suds when Jo plunks a medium to-go cup on the edge of the sink. “Thank you?” he says, bemused.

“It’s not for you, doofus,” Jo says, rolling her eyes. “There’s a customer out back,” she jerks her head towards the service exit that leads to the alley where they dump their trash and Ruby takes her furtive smoke breaks. “I need you to take this to him.”

“Out back?” Castiel repeats dubiously, craning his neck to catch sight of their on-site baker, Benny, who is busy kneading focaccia dough for tomorrow’s sandwiches. Benny, full of southern politeness, doesn’t give any indication he’s eavesdropping.

Jo gives Castiel a short nod, her alpha scent flaring with irritation. “I’d take it out there myself, but he always talks my ear off, and Kevin still can’t draw a latte art that doesn’t look like a dick, so…”

Castiel frowns but nods, and Jo’s expression eases once she doesn't hear a challenge to her request. Still, he has to ask, “But why doesn’t he order at the counter like a normal customer?”

Jo takes a step back towards the door. “You’ll see. Just… don’t make a big deal of it.”

“A big deal of what?” Castiel calls to her, but she’s already disappeared out to the front of the cafe.

Castiel sighs and wipes his hands on a dish towel. He picks up the drink, sniffing curiously.

He nearly gags at the strong aroma of brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and apples all on top of espresso and milk. They definitely don’t serve that on the menu. Admittedly, Castiel hasn’t memorized the list of hot drinks they serve at Hunter’s Cafe, but this is an assault on anyone with a nose. He’s been their busboy and dishwasher for six months since his second year as a graduate student began, and Jo has only let him mind the counter three times, all as far from peak time as she could get.

But a job is a job. Holding the drink, he shoulders open the back door.

“Hey - oh, you’re not Jo,” a familiar voice says.

Castiel stops dead in his tracks because, despite the sunglasses, the baseball hat, and hunched shoulders, Dean Winchester is unmistakable.

Away from the limelight, Dean apparently favors soft-looking flannels over worn tee shirts and jeans. In one hand, he holds a half depleted sheaf of french fries. Stunned, Castiel doesn't immediately hand over the reason for his appearance.

“Whatever, is that mine?” Dean demands, zeroing in on Castiel’s cup.

Still beyond speech, Castiel dumbly hands the affront to coffee over.

After a muttered thanks, Dean takes a long drink. “Christ, this tastes even better than normal.”

Castiel inhales a surreptitious breath. It’s not every day one gets to catch the scent of Hollywood’s omega darling.

Not that anyone would know Dean's secondary gender just by looking at him. Dean stands a few inches taller than the average male omega - he has nearly an inch of height on Castiel, and Castiel is the dictionary definition of standard alpha physique.

While Castiel might not be Dean’s most knowledgeable fan, he hasn’t been living under a rock for the past five years. It was all over the papers when Dean was cast in his first alpha role. Dean wasn’t the first omega actor to do so, but he was certainly the most prominent. Castiel’s sister, Anna, an actual fan, spent a memorable dinner ranting about how all the prejudiced reporters on the press tour. Apparently they only asked Dean about the diet and exercise routine that transform into a “real” alpha, while, in the next round, his alpha castmates fielded questions about their characters’ moral code and complex development.

But, in the alley behind Hunter’s Café, Castiel’s nose is completely overwhelmed by the fryers of the fast food restaurant next door, the set of dumpsters directly to his right, and the almost offensively apple coffee Dean is currently drinking like his life depends on it. Dean could smell like old gym socks for all Castiel can tell.

“Where’s Jo?” Dean asks once he resurfaces. He jams a few fries in his mouth. Before he's finished chewing, he sucks down some more latte in an unholy taste combination.

“Busy,” Castiel replies. “We have a new hire, and so far Kevin can only draw genitalia on lattes instead of flowers.”

Dean guffaws, nearly inhaling his drink. Swearing unrepentantly, he takes his sunglasses off and rubs at his temple with his free hand. “Christ, I’m too hungover to laugh like that.” He squints over at Castiek before sliding the sunglasses back on his face.

Castiel stares. “If you’re hungover, why are you here at -” he checks his watch “-seven in the morning?”

Dean slurps at his fruity latte before he answers. “Got a meeting at nine. This,” he says, brandishing his mostly empty cup, “and a large fries are the cure.” His hands occupied, Dean ducks his head to fish a single fry out and holds it like a cigarette between his lips.

“That sounds disgusting,” Castiel says, aghast.

Dean inches the rest of the fry into his mouth. “Don't knock it ‘til you try it,” he says with a wink.

Cas blushes.

“Hey,” Dean says, a new thought coming to him, “What’s your name?”

Taken aback by the question, he answers, “Castiel.”

Dean mouths his name once, his brow furrowing at the new syllables. With a small shrug of capitulation he says, “Well, Cas, thanks for the drink.” He toasts him one before tipping the cup all the way back, draining it.

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

Dean grins. “I couldn't tell if you recognized me or not.”

“I did,” Castiel says, clearly unnecessarily.

Amused, Dean throws him a long, considering look. “You’ve got one hell of a poker face.” He unceremoniously shovels the rest of the fries in his mouth and balls up the wrapper. He tosses it with practiced ease into the waiting dumpster.

“Thank you?” Cas says, nonplussed.

“Thank you,” Dean says, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. “You’re the one who saved my hide.” He sidles forward and shoves a bill into Castiel’s slack hand. Without another word, he takes off out of the alley and onto the street.

Once he’s out of sight, Castiel unclenches his hand. Dean tipped him ten dollars.

* * *

“How is this even more pungent than last time?” Castiel demands, nose wrinkling as he sets a now clean muffin tin back on the shelf. It’s been a week since he met Dean Winchester, and hadn’t gotten so much as a whiff of apple pie since then.

He is alone with Jo in the kitchen, since Benny’s early morning shift ends at eleven.

“I added a caramel drizzle,” Jo says, her scent rising with her self-satisfaction.

Castiel stares at her in horror. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“’Cause I’m trying to see what his limit is, and so far - nothing,” Jo says, shrugging. “Get to it. He’s real grouchy if you make him wait too long.”

“And why aren’t you taking it to him?” Castiel says, eyebrows rising. “Kevin’s moved onto multiple hearts now. Admittedly, his first one looked like a labia, but he’s gotten much better.”

“But Ruby didn’t show up, so we’re short staffed,” Jo says shortly. Outside, Kevin yells something indistinguishable though the kitchen door, and Jo winces.

Castiel takes the latte.

Just like last time, Dean is waiting, wearing a different flannel but the same jeans with the hole above the left knee. He abandoned the sunglasses, since the clouds overhead cast the whole alley in shade. They’re hanging from the vee of his shirt collar, pulling the fabric down a tempting extra inch.

Unfortunately, the fast food restaurant next door must have just taken out the trash last night, since the alley reeks of stale bread and rotting fish patties.

Castiel lets the door slam behind him, unable to hold back his corresponding smile as Dean lights up as he sees him.

“Thank god,” Dean says as he reaches for the latte. “I was starting to think Jo was gonna stiff me.”

“We’re short staffed at the moment,” Castiel says apologetically, “so you got me again.”

Dean eyes him over the lid of his cup. “Not a downside from where I’m standin’,” he drawls.

Castiel has no idea how to respond to that, so he doesn’t. Dean can’t mean it like Castiel thinks he does. He’s an actor, feeding people lines is the dictionary definition of his job. Instead Castiel asks, “No french fries this time?” because he’s not nearly ready to leave yet.

“Already ate ’em, while I was waiting,” Dean says dismissively.

Castiel shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry.”

“No harm, no foul,” Dean says with a little grin. “I got my caffeine fix eventually, and that’s what I really care about.”

“You look remarkably more put together than last time,” Castiel says as he leans against the doorway, watching Dean sip at his drink.

“Didn’t drink as much,” Dean says with a grin. He tips back his cup and takes a long pull. “Fries can only get you halfway there. Christ, that’s the stuff.”

Castiel can’t help but make a face. The latte smells horrendous; it can’t taste that much better.

“What?” Dean asks, eyes narrowing.

Castiel probably shouldn’t tell Dean what is exactly on his mind. Castiel has found very few people appreciate his default brand of honesty - Hunter’s Café customers, especially. But Dean isn’t technically his customer - he’s Jo’s - and Castiel has reached the point in his life where he doesn’t need to hang onto people who don’t like him and vice versa. Dean isn’t even providing extra publicity for the establishment, since he’s getting serviced in the alley behind the kitchen.

Technically, Castiel needs a celebrity acquaintance as much as he needs a free bag of cat food (he doesn’t have a cat).

But he does like having one.

A celebrity acquaintance, that is. Cats are inherently suspicious.

Reluctantly, Castiel says, “I can’t imagine that latte tastes very good.”

To his surprise, instead of demanding Jo bring him his coffee from now on, Dean laughs. “Not a fan of apple pie?”

“Not in my coffee.”

Dean takes an obnoxiously loud slurp. “I think it’s delicious.”

“I think your taste buds must be severely incapacitated.”

Dean waggles the near empty cup in front of Castiel’s face in what must be an enticing manner to someone with no sense of smell or taste. “Wanna try?”

Castiel valiantly holds back his recoil. “No, thank you.”

But Dean’s genial expression doesn’t waver. “‘M feeling pretty much human again, so it’s up for grabs.”

“I’d sooner lick the dumpster,” Castiel blurts before he can filter himself.

Dean whistles, rocking back on his heels. “Harsh.”

Castiel sighs. Honesty was a mistake. He mutters, embarrassed, “I’m just not a very big fan of sweets.”

“No?”

“I’ve been living with my cousin while in graduate school at Columbia,” he explains, his tone apologetic for his earlier comment, “and he has a horrendous sweet tooth. I don’t think he’s ever seen a carrot that wasn’t in a cake first.”

A wide grin splits Dean’s face. He laughs.

What Castiel wouldn’t give to scent Dean’s joy for himself. “He would probably love that latte,” Castiel continues wryly.

“Probably,” Dean agrees. He taps his fingers against the sides of the cup as he asks, “So you’re in school? For what?”

“Do you really want to know?” Castiel asks seriously. He’s had too many conversations with strangers and casual friends who have asked the exact same question and regretted asking it almost immediately.

Dean ducks his head. “I don’t know any graduate students, and I,” he breaks off, his cheeks going pink, “I never went to college, so I have no idea what it means.” He sucks on the dregs of his latte, gaze dropping to the vicinity of Castiel’s knees.

“Oh,” Castiel says, feeling lighter. “In that case, I’m studying ethnomusicology.”

Dean’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Are you fucking with me? That doesn’t sound real.”

“It’s a legitimate area of study,” Castiel assures him. “I research music as it pertains to culture and diverse elements of social life. Ethnomusicology focuses not only on the music itself, but music as a social process, as a medium for humans to relate to each other. In short, it examines how music functions in a particular society.”

To Castiel’s surprise, Dean doesn’t get the glazed-over look most people do when he explains his field of study. “So what kind of music are you talking about?”

Now it’s Castiel’s turn to flush. His colleagues, while they respect his academic reputation, have nearly all looked down on his chosen object of study. “One of the main tenets of ethnomusicology is a global perspective on music-”

“What, like Tibetan throat-singing?” Dean interrupts. At Castiels’ stare, he explains quickly, “Sammy had a phase.”

Castiel chuckles. “Yes, I do know a professor at Cornell who is studying just that. But my focus is much closer to home. I study,” he inhales a small breath, “tribute bands.”

Dean’s mouth twitches. “What.”

“Tribute bands offer a fascinating definition of the nature of performance, the difference between authenticity and identity,” Castiel says, already on the defensive. He can already hear his voice trying to fall into his usual academic patterns, and tries to rein himself in, “and historical consciousness in popular music. Here -” He pulls out his phone.

Dean listens in complete silence to Yellow Dubmarine’s cover of I Want You.

“Anyway,” Castiel coughs, embarrassed he made Dean sit through all that, “I also teach Rock and Roll from the 1950s to 1980s. There is a great deal of crossover with my specialty since most tribute bands recreate acts from the 60s to the 80s.”

“Dude,” Dean says in a rush, “if you think that makes you less interesting, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Castiel blinks.

“What bands are we talkin’ about?” he asks eagerly. “More Beatles? The Stones? The Who?”

Castiel nods. “I’m hoping to go to a Lez Zeppelin concert next month.”

“Led Zeppelin?”

“Lez,” Castiel says, emphasizing the ‘z’, “an all-female Led Zeppelin tribute band.”

Dean frowns. “They have a gimmick?”

Castiel shakes his head. “They’re completely sincere, I assure you.” He smiles wryly. “I interviewed Misstallica for a paper I’m writing on diverse, for lack of a better word, musicians in the tribute world, and they felt right at home with the long hair and tight pants. I’ve never met people who more adore the songs they perform.”

“Huh,” Dean says, rubbing his chin.

“Except maybe Air-O-Smith,” Castiel adds, “an American all-omega tribute band of Aerosmith.”

Dean’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

“My favorite all-omega tribute band, though, is Omega You Eight One Two,” Castiel muses, “a Van Halen cover band.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean says faintly.

“Their lead guitarist, as you can imagine, is phenomenal.”

Dean shakes his head, his expression going slack. “Wait, seriously? That’s a thing? All omega acts?”

“Of course,” Castiel says. “That’s one of the most compelling aspects of tribute bands, when they flip the traditional male-alpha dynamic of the original, and how they translate that into their own act while keeping the whole performance authentic to the creators. It’s a fascinating process to watch and study.”

“I bet,” Dean says fervently. “Hey, d’you think-”

The back door opens before Dean can finish his sentence.

Jo pokes her head out, looking askance at the pair of them. “Are you still out here?” She glares at Dean. “Stop complaining about your diet, and let Castiel come back to work.”

Castiel’s mouth purses. “You’re on a diet?”

“Not on cheat day,” Dean tells him, lifting his empty cup. He turns to Jo. “And I wasn’t complaining at all. Cas was actually telling me about tribute bands.”

“Really?” Jo asks, her nose wrinkling.

Dean tosses his trash in the dumpsters. “They sound awesome.”

“I like them,” Castiel says lamely, off-footed now the conversation is clearly wrapping up.

Jo rolls her eyes, alpha irritation practically radiating off her. “Good for you.”

“Alright, well, I’ll let you deal with Joanna Beth on your own,” Dean says as he pulls out his wallet and hands Castiel a folded bill. He gives a mocking salute as he takes a step back, “Good luck, dude.”

“Thank you?”

“Come on, fanboy,” Jo growls once Dean’s disappeared from view, “back to work.”

* * *

“Can’t you take it?” Castiel asks, his tone verging on pleading, as Jo follows him back into the kitchen. It’s too early in the morning for another meeting, closer to first time Castiel met Dean at seven am compared to their last meeting at a little before eleven.

This past weekend, Castiel went down a spiral of Dean Winchester content. He read up on all of Dean’s recent projects, scanned headlines about rumors of his next film - some action thriller that Castiel presumes is the reason for Dean’s diet, and watched interview after interview. Dean on Stephen Colbert. Dean on Good Morning America. Dean on some very confusing show where they forced him to eat spicy chicken wings, which just seemed like an exercise in pepper-based sadism.

Castiel didn’t really understand the Saturday Night Live skit where Dean played one half of a demon-hunting brother duo, but the live studio audience laughed uproariously at multiple points.

Jo all but slams Dean’s latte on the ledge above the sink. “You know the health inspector is here. I can’t let Ruby near the guy, and you know how Kevin gets around figures of authority.”

Castiel sets down his tub of dirty dishes. “He nearly peed himself when he had to tell you he dropped a tray of scones over the floor last week,” he says flatly.

“Exactly,” Jo says. “Benny is busy,” she says, tipping her head to where Benny is adding more flour to a huge bowl.

“Cheers, darlin’.”

She turns back to Castiel. “So, you’re it today, champ.”

“Great,” Castiel grumbles.

“What?” Jo asks, her hands on her hips. “You seemed to get along with Dean. I actually didn’t know you could talk that much before I sent you back there.”

Castiel carefully transfers the dirty plates to the sink. “Getting along with him isn’t the problem,” he says darkly.

“Getting along with him too well is the issue?” Jo asks, her eyebrows rising.

Castiel scowls at her observation. Her emotional intuition is what makes her an excellent café manager, so he can hardly fault her for that. He doesn’t respond to her question.

“Take it to him,” Jo says, her tone softening. “He likes you.”

Castiel raises his head to stare at her. “How do you know that?”

Jo pulls her phone from her back pocket and waves it in his face. “We talk,” she says. “How do you think he orders every time? He’s not getting those lattes for free, not after I spent so much time getting them exactly right.”

Castiel can’t hold back his grimace. The latte still smells awful, like a vat of boiled candied apples.

“Look,” Jo says, lowering her voice, “Dean’s famous, sure, but he’s actually a very private person. He runs his mouth to anyone who’ll listen, but he never really says anything important. So he doesn’t really connect with a lot of people. If he says he likes you, I’m gonna say that’s a good thing - if you tell him I said this, I’ll kick your ass - and make you his designated errand boy.”

Castiel bites his lip. “But I don’t -”

“Dude, don’t make me pull the boss card,” Jo says, just the barest hint of threat in her words.

“Fine.” Castiel snatches the latte off the counter. “But I want a raise.”

“You can get a free sandwich.”

Castiel glares daggers as he shoulders open the back door.

But the alley is empty.

Castiel breathes through his mouth as he steps out. The overflowing dumpsters carry the odor of moldering cheese and more rancid fish, and the fryers next door are still going strong. He doesn’t find Dean lurking behind the trash for some strange reason, and he’s about to head back in and dump Dean’s latte down the sink when a shout makes him turn around.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean calls, jogging in from the brightly lit street.

“Hello, Dean.” He hands over the latte.

“Thanks - sorry.” Dean rubs the back of his neck with his other hand. “Some fans caught me sneaking in here, and wanted a selfie.”

“Oh,” Castiel says for lack of anything better to say.

Dean tips back his cup, his expression falling into pure bliss. “Christ, that’s so much better when I’m not hungover.”

Castiel stares. “You’re drinking that with all your capacities intact?”

“Ain’t no better way to enjoy pie,” Dean says, grinning widely.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “That’s not pie.”

“It’s as close as I’m gonna get at eight in the morning on a Thursday,” Dean says with a shrug.

Silence falls between them, and Castiel can’t help glancing over Dean’s shoulder, tentatively scanning for the people who caught his attention earlier. Plenty more would have approached Dean if he didn’t have Jo’s latte waiting for him; Castiel would bet his job on it.

Dean is a celebrity.

Castiel is a grad student who can’t even afford to support a guinea pig on his stipend and café salary.

After a long beat, Dean asks, a touch hesitantly, “So, what’ve you been up to?”

Stalking you on the internet.

“Nothing,” Castiel lies. At the slight fall in Dean’s expression, he adds, “I cleaned my kitchen over the weekend.”

Dean chuckles. “You’re a weird dude, you know that?”

Hurt, Castiel takes a step back. Jo probably needs him for… something.

“Not in a bad way!” Dean says quickly. “Shit,” he swears under his breath, “please don’t stop giving me coffee.”

Castiel hesitates. “Why is it weird that I cleaned my kitchen?” He frowns. “I suppose you employ someone to do that for you.”

Dean seesaws his free hand back and forth as he sips at his latte. “Not always,” he lowers his voice, “I actually like cleaning - it helps me relax and shit. There’s nothing like blasting some tunes and scrubbing out that stain on the counter that’s been annoying you forever.”

Castiel lowers his voice too. “Is this a secret?”

Dean grimaces. “Not really. But, you know, it’s one of those omega things.”

Castiel doesn’t know. Well, he knows it is a stereotypical omega trait to like housework, but he has no idea why Dean would whisper it in a back alley like he’s confessing to defrauding an elderly relative. “And that is bad because…?”

Dean takes a long pull from his cup. “I don’t want to hammer the omega thing home too hard, alright?”

“But you are an omega,” Castiel says, feeling a little stupid for saying it out loud.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs, “but if I lean into it, I’ll stop getting alpha roles.”

“You only want to play alphas?” Castiel asks curiously.

Dean’s mouth twists. “They’re the better parts. Omegas are always the damsels in distress or get killed off first for the plot.”

“I’m sure not all films are like that,” Castiel says. God knows, Anna made him sit through enough films with an omega protagonist that did not fit the typical romantic comedy restrictions.

“Most.”

“The last movie I saw,” Castiel says, hesitant because Dean must know more about this than him, “my sister recommended it, it had an omega lead who led a team of paranormal investigators. A sort of horror-comedy.”

Dean’s face loses some of its hostility. Almost intrigued, he asks gruffly, “D’you know who wrote it?”

“Not off the top of my head.” Castiel pulls out his phone to look it up. He reads aloud, “Ghostfacers, directed by Ed Zeddmore, written by Harry Spangler. Starred Maggie Zeddmore and Alan Corbett.” He pauses, trying to remember the details. “I think they both were omegas. I’m sure there are more films like Ghostfacers out there for you to make.”

Dean sips at his latte. “A few. None with big enough names attached to really get on my radar.”

“Well, if you signed on, wouldn’t there be a big name attached?”

“Yeah,” Dean says in a tone that clearly conveys he’s thought of this possibility before. He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just - what if I take one of these roles, and it gets all this attention just ’cause I’m in it, and it flops?”

Castiel tilts his head. “That would hardly be your fault. Most failed films are hardly the work of one person. Usually, it’s a combination of a bad story, bad production, and bad acting.” He levels Dean an appraising look. “Right off the bat, you control two of those elements - pick a good script and act as well as you always have.”

Dean blinks. “You’ve seen my stuff?”

Castiel’s brow furrows. “I thought I already said I knew who you were?”

“Yeah, but,” Dean says, his voice petering off with embarrassment, “that didn’t mean you liked my movies.”

“The majority of America liked your last movie, Dean,” Castiel says dryly. “Either that, or you have a very hardworking and wealthy mother who poured a hundred million dollars into ticket sales.”

“I mean, Mom’s a fan, but not that big of a fan,” Dean says, chuckling. “I’m pretty sure she’d rather get a twenty-minute call from yours truly than sit through a two-hour flick with my name on the poster.”

Castiel hands over his phone. “Here,” he says, tilting it so Dean can see the summary of Ghostfacers.

Dean brightens as he reads through it. “The Alpha dies first?”

“He thought he could deal with the ghost on his own.”

“Typical alpha macho,” Dean snorts. His head snaps up as he gives the phone back. “No offense.”

“No offense taken,” Castiel says easily. “With my lifestyle, posturing is a waste of time. I’ve long ago resigned myself to not being the primary breadwinner in any future household.”

“Really?”

Castiel throws him a look. “I’m in academia, Dean. Tenure is hardly a guarantee. Even so, there isn’t a wealth of money out there for ethnomusicology grants.”

Dean tips his head in acknowledgement. “It’s awful big of you.”

“Just logical,” Castiel says evenly. “It shrinks my dating pool considerably, but I’d rather do what I love than compromise that much for any potential partner.”

Dean inhales a deep breath, his eyes unfathomable. “I get that.”

“If it means I can’t afford to mate a house-omega, I’ll just have to keep cleaning my kitchen myself,” Castiel finishes with a shrug.

Dean grins. “I mean, if you spot me a six pack and don’t tell my trainer about it, I’ll clean your kitchen.”

Castiel turns bright red. He can’t bring himself to respond to that offer, so he changes the subject.

* * *

Castiel doesn’t even bother pretending to protest as Jo barges into the kitchen, the telltale scent of sugary apples wafting around her like a palpable shield. Castiel already set himself for heartbreak where Dean Winchester is concerned. He might as well take advantage of every interaction he has left.

He went to sleep late last night, watching one of Dean’s earlier movies. He was slimmer and younger, but he still shone with his signature charisma and talent. For the first time since Castiel started the morning shift at Hunter’s Café, he snoozed his alarm.

Hurrying through his morning routine, Castiel couldn’t help resenting Dean just a little. If only Dean hadn’t chosen a profession where his literal job is to be whatever his audience wants him to be.

As Castiel pushes open the door, Dean is waiting outside. Dark sunglasses shield his green eyes, and a violet bruise blooms over his left eyebrow. As the door slams shut behind Castiel, Dean winces. His left hand holds a half-empty paper container of french fries.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says. “You don’t look good.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean says darkly. “Gimme.”

Castiel pauses. “Did your hangover eliminate your manners?”

Dean flushes bright red. “No,” he mutters. “Sorry, Cas. I just feel like shit.”

“You look like shit,” Castiel says frankly as he hands it over.

“Thanks,” Deans says, his voice sour as old lemons. “I told Charlie tequila shots before Monopoly was a bad idea, but did anyone listen to me?” He gestures to his face. “Next thing I know, Jo’s throwing Charlie’s bag of DnD dice at my head.”

“You got that playing Monopoly? Wait, Jo did this to you?” he demands, gesturing to the cafe behind him. “Jo Harvelle?”

Dean just glares over the rim of his coffee cup. “Yeah, Katniss got me good.”

“God, why?”

One corner of Dean’s mouth lifts in a distinctly smug smirk. “’Cause she was going bankrupt, and she had to sell her last property to me.”

“So this was because of Monopoly,” Castiel says dubiously. In his experience, a board game has never led to actual violence.

Dean shrugs. “Game nights get intense. Why do you think I’m always bangin’ down your door the morning after?”

Castiel can’t believe it. “You’ve been getting this drunk at a game night? Every time?”

“So what?” Dean shoves four french fries in his mouth. “Whaddya think I was doin’?”

“Partying?” he suggests.

Dean snorts. “Maybe six years ago when I was doing B-level flicks and trying to meet as many people as I could. Now I have a back-to-back shooting schedule and hangovers if I don’t pace myself.”

Castiel watches Dean polish off his fries at a truly impressive and horrifying speed. He can’t help asking, “Why was Jo at your game night?”

“’Cause she’s a menace who knows how to pick locks?” Dean heaves a weighty sigh. “I’ve known Jo since we were kids. She and her mom - who started Hunter’s Café - were my neighbors.”

“I had no idea.”

Dean gestures to the alley with a wry hand. “Jo likes to keep it under wraps.”

“I see why Jo keeps making those drinks for you,” Castiel says, nodding at the half-finished latte in Dean’s hand.

“You didn’t make it?” Dean says, and does he sound almost disappointed?

Castiel shakes his head. “Jo is keeping the recipe close to the chest.”

“Probably worried everyone’ll want one if they get the taste.” Dean tips the cup back.

Castiel can’t help his noise of disgust. At Dean’s sharp look, he says aloud, “She’s probably worried everyone will never come back if they try it.”

Dean’s laugh cuts off with a wince. He raises a hand to his head. “Christ, last night was a mistake.”

Castiel surreptitiously scents the air for a better gauge of how discomfited Dean really is, but, as always, all he gets is trash and fryer oil. “How are you doing? Apart from the injury, headache, and general hangover-related malaise.”

“Oh, apart from that?” Dean echoes mockingly, but his words lack any heat. He crams a few fries into his mouth. “I asked my agent to send me a few more scripts with omega roles,” he mutters.

Castiel smiles. “That’s great.”

Dean hums his agreement. “Hopefully, she’ll pick out a decent one, and I can get something set up for after Two for the Show wraps.”

“Is Two for the Show the reason for your diet?”

Dean huffs. “Yeah. I have a bunch of shirtless scenes, so that means three months with the diet coach from hell.”

Castiel makes a noise of sympathy. After a moment, he asks, “Is it worth it?”

Dean chews a fry, scowling between bites. “Not really,” he says in a low voice. “Sammy’s the farmers market maniac in the family.” Wistfully, he continues, “Give me a good cheeseburger deluxe every day for the rest of my life with a side of pie, and I’ll die a happy man.”

“I didn’t think apple pie came as a side.”

“Not for you, maybe,” Dean says with an obnoxiously loud slurp of his latte.

Castiel doesn’t bother holding back his smile.

Dean sighs, rubbing his temple with the heel of his hand. “It’s just like, I don’t look like a traditional omega, so I figured I might as well try for the alpha roles.” He swallows. “’S a win-win situation. I look the part and the characters are better - what’s the downside?”

Castiel cocks his head. “Other than your restricted diet and inadvisable levels of drinking?”

A humorless smile pulls at Dean's mouth. “Not pullin’ the punches this morning, huh?”

Castiel colors, his face heating with shame. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well.” An inadequate excuse, but it’s not like he can tell Dean the real reason for his more uncharitable thoughts.

Castiel has never been one to lean into his alpha instincts. Possessiveness, aggression, arrogance - Castiel has had his (mostly regrettable) moments, but they hardly define his character. But over these past few weeks, he’s had to repeatedly tell himself that he can’t solve Dean’s problems. Dean is a wildly successful adult with millions of fans, while Castiel can’t even handle Hunter Cafe's front counter during the morning rush.

Dean would hardly welcome a nobody little alpha telling him to just… do what he wants and damn the consequences because he deserves to be happy with his life and his work.

Dean plucks out the rest of his fries and balls the wrapper against his hip. He lobs it in the dumpster. “No, I get it. I’m complaining about things that most people would kill to have.” He glances towards the mouth of the alley, his mouth set in a thin line.

But before Dean can leave, Castiel says quickly, “That’s not the way I see it. Your specific frustrations aren’t universal, but hardly anyone’s are. Society is inherently unfair, and it’s understandable to be angry about it.”

God knows Castiel railed enough about the unfairness of Dean Winchester to Gabriel enough over the past few weeks.

Even now, hungover and bruised, Dean is beautiful.

Castiel steels himself. “And, for what it’s worth, I don’t think not looking like a typical omega is a bad thing.”

Dean turns to him in surprise, and Castiel would give up that free sandwich Jo offered him to be able to scent what exactly Dean is feeling. But, after a second that stretches into an eternity, all Dean gives him is a quiet, “Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel nods, chastised by Dean’s reaction. “I should get back to work,” he says awkwardly.

Dean mutters something that might be a swear underneath his breath. Raising his voice, he says, his tone apologetic, “’Course. Sorry for keeping you.”

Castiel shakes his head. “It’s alright. I,” he pauses, “always enjoy talking to you.”

Dean’s mouth lifts into a small smile, and it’s like the sun rising through the early morning fog. “You too, man.”

* * *

After his next shift, Castiel asks Jo to show him how to make Dean’s apple pie latte.

Castiel’s first attempt is a disaster. He burns the espresso and adds too much nutmeg. Jo makes him try it anyway, as a non-monetary payment for her time. As Castiel gags, a smirking Jo dumps the bitter, weirdly savory mess down the sink.

“Passable,” Jo declares at Castiel’s second try. “You need more of the apple concentrate, though.”

“It’ll be too strong,” Castiel protests even as he shakes more powder in and gives it a stir. He hands it back to Jo for evaluation.

“You could barely taste it!” Jo says. She raises it to her lips. “Mm, that’s the stuff.”

“It is?” Castiel asks hopefully.

Jo nods and pushes the cup towards him. “That’s what it’s supposed to taste like.”

Castiel frowns as the overly sweet apples hit his tongue. He can barely taste the coffee underneath all the other layers.

“Trust me,” Jo says, flipping her hair behind her shoulder as she sets Castiel up for a third cup. “Your scent’s getting in the way, but it tastes exactly like an apple pie.”

“My scent?” Castiel echoes, baffled.

Jo throws him a look as she pushes a clean coffee cup into his hands. “Yeah, you already smell, I dunno, crisp but sweet? A little like apples. Makes you think the latte dials it up to eleven when it’s more like a nine for everyone else.”

Castiel hadn’t thought to put those pieces together, but it makes an astonishing amount of sense.

He brings his last apple pie latte home to Gabriel, and his cousin makes him write down, step by step, how to make it. In between actual licks into the cup to get the dregs, Gabriel swears to visit him at Hunter’s Café more often.

When Jo next ducks her head into the kitchen to tell Castiel that Dean will swing by in fifteen minutes, Castiel gets to work. He awkwardly sidles behind the front counter and maneuvers around Ruby and Kevin, nearly knocking Kevin’s elbow as Kevin attempts some elaborate leaf pattern.

Castiel draws a rudimentary apple on top of Dean’s latte, and if it looks more like a misshapen mango, nobody will see it but Dean.

For the first time, Castiel heads out to wait for Dean at the mouth of the alley.

Dean doesn’t keep him in suspense for long. He makes his way down the street, shoulders hunched, and head bowed. Gaze fixed on the dirty sidewalk, Dean doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as he turns the corner.

Dean isn’t even wearing sunglasses or a hat to hide his face, but everyone walks straight past him.

It’s the most riveting performance Castiel has ever seen.

A few steps away, Dean catches sight of him, and it’s like some magic switch is flipped on, and he is Dean Winchester again.

Smiling brightly, he jogs the rest of the distance and follows Castiel as he slinks further back into the alley. Dean wrinkles his nose as they get closer to the dumpsters and the smell of an entire rancid fast food menu hits him. “Hey, Cas,” he says as he takes his latte. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Castiel says, tipping his head.

Dean stares down oddly at the demented pear and takes a sip. Face going slack with a bliss Castiel doesn’t even need to smell, Dean groans.

Castiel freezes and sends up a silent prayer of thanks for the apron covering his lower half over his pants. “It’s good?” he tries futilely because Dean is clearly beyond speech.

Dean just gives him a thumbs up as he lowers the cup. He licks his lips, chasing the taste, and Castiel has seen pornography less graphic.

“I might have to tip Jo this time too,” Dean says, staring at the latte in his hand in wonder.

Castiel coughs. “I - I made this one, actually.”

Dean chokes on his next mouthful. “Are you serious?”

Castiel nods because if he opens his mouth he’s not sure what exactly will come out. Probably something highly embarrassing.

“This is the best one I’ve ever had,” Dean swears.

Castiel’s whole body heats with the force of his blush. “Thank you. I asked Jo how to make it, since it seems like I’ve taken over your delivery duties.”

Dean grins. “You’re a lot more fun than Jo,” he says lightly, “so I’m not complainin’.”

Castiel didn’t think he could get any redder, but here he is.

After an awkward beat, Dean says, “I think I found my next movie.”

“Really?”

Dean shrugs, but his eyes glimmer with anticipation. “It’s a World War II biopic about an omega who sneaks into the army, disguises himself as an alpha, and rescues a unit trapped behind enemy lines.” He taps his fingers against the side of his half-empty cup. “A little on the nose, but the script is good.”

“It sounds very promising,” Castiel agrees.

“Their biggest problem was the budget - historical pics aren’t cheap. But they think if I sign on early, they can leverage my name with the studio.” He smiles shyly. “Get the movie done right.”

“That’s fantastic,” Castiel says, a delightful warmth filling his chest - still a pale reflection of Dean’s excitement.

“Thanks to you.”

Castiel’s eyes widen in surprise. “Me?”

Dean throws him a funny look. “Yeah, you. You told me to get my head outta my ass and movies I actually like doing-”

“Not in so many words-” Castiel interjects, alarmed.

“’Cause the whole point of doing these stupid macho alpha flicks was so I could get the clout and money to do the stuff I actually liked,” Dean continues. “And I kept thinking, can’t do it yet, not there yet, until some rando tells me, fuck yeah you can.”

“I definitely didn’t say that-”

“It was implied,” Dean says blithely, waving off his protests. “So I figured, if this dude who doesn’t know me from Adam-”

“I’ve seen several of your films.”

“- tells me to go for it - it being something I’d thought of doing for years - is there any real reason why I shouldn’t?”

Castiel just stares at him, stunned.

Dean beams. “I’ve got a meeting with the director next week.”

“That’s wonderful,” Castiel says sincerely.

“Anyway, yeah, it’s partially thanks to you,” Dean says, tipping his latte in Castiel’s direction. “I also want to talk about romantic B-plot since I think it’s stupid.” He shakes his head, scoffing. “True mates, bullshit.”

“You think true mates are bullshit?”

As far as Castiel saw online, Dean’s never spoken on the record about true mates or any mates at all. Entertainment news sources reported rumors about him and a one-named alpha singer, Amara, early in his career, which he denounced thoroughly. A few months later, someone published revealing photos of him and an older alpha actor, Fergus Crowley. When asked about it, Dean refused to give details.

Dean makes a face. After a pause, he says, “My parents said they were true mates, but it wasn’t… pretty. No Hollywood romance between them.”

“I’m sorry.”

“’S fine,” Dean says in a tone that clearly says it isn’t. “Whenever Dad took off for a few days, I’d get to watch as many movies as I wanted, and - well, the rest is history.”

“I don’t know anyone who’s found their true mate,” Castiel says. His parents had a cold, distant marriage. A few times over the years, he wasn’t sure his mother even liked his father’s scent. Anna happily mated another omega last year, and Gabriel avoids all romantic entanglements like the black plague.

Castiel’s dating history can best be described as dismal. During his last visit to his pediatrician, his doctor called him a “late bloomer” which Castiel eventually realized just meant socially awkward. In the decade since, Castiel’s slept with a grand total of three people. And, to his supreme regret, none of them managed to bring his rusty people skills up to par.

But, in college, Castiel found music and his calling. And all his faults didn’t matter nearly as much.

In the crowd of a concert, people are so far outside the ordinary conditions of life, and so conscious of the fact, that they free themselves from individual concerns and devote themselves wholly to the collective. All their fury, their joy, their hunger for what they can’t have, is sublimated into the music.

Castiel has never felt more connected to humanity than in the middle of a crowd.

Truthfully, none of his past relationships ever measured up. None of his past partners ever managed to get Castiel out of his own head - not like the music.

Castiel shakes his head ruefully. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a true mate even if I had one.”

“Have a lot of super sappy sex with the lights on?” Dean offers, laughing.

Castiel frowns. “I wasn’t aware that kind of intercourse was restricted to true mates. I’ve done that in the past since I've always shared an emotional connection with the people I've slept with.”

“Oh,” Dean says, reddening. “Were you mated? Jo didn’t say.”

Inordinately pleased that Dean had asked Jo about him, Castiel shakes his head. “No, I’ve never been mated.”

Dean drains his latte. Swallowing, he says, “Me neither.” He throws the cup in the open dumpster and turns back to Castiel. “I haven’t dated in a while, actually,” he says in a low voice. “Couldn’t risk being seen with an alpha and remind everyone of what I’m not.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “Surely people can’t be that close-minded.”

“’Course they can. Most are,” Dean says, his voice full of assurance.

Castiel’s mouth twists. “That sounds like a negativity bias to me.”

“Huh?”

“Negative information sticks with us longer and more strongly than any positive counterpart,” Castiel says with a shrug. “It’s something I always keep in mind when reading my course reviews after the semester is over.”

“So," Dean says, eyes dancing, "you can take the nerd out of the classroom, but you can’t take the classroom out of the nerd, huh?”

Castiel smiles wryly. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Dean laughs. “Look,” he starts, his expression turning a fraction more serious. “I might be fucking up a good thing here, but do you want to go to a Lez Zeppelin show next week?”

Castiel’s mouth falls open as Dean reaches out and pulls out his phone to show him a ticket confirmation email.

“It’s no big if you don’t want to,” Dean says awkwardly into the silence.

“I - I do,” Castiel says, stumbling over the words. “You do?”

“Uh,” Dean throws him a bemused look, “Yeah? I bought the tickets, dude.”

“I’m just surprised,” Castiel says honestly.

Dean stares at him. “This is seriously comin’ out of nowhere for you?”

“A little,” Castiel says defensively.

“Seriously?”

Castiel shrugs helplessly. “You’re … you. You’re famous. Why would you ask me?”

“Because I like you?” Dean says, nonplussed. “You’re nice in a way a lot of the alphas I know aren’t, and,” he breaks off, reddening, “you said you didn’t mind that I didn’t fit in with other omegas, looks-wise-”

“I don’t,” Castiel interrupts. “I think you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

Dean gapes. “Did you seriously -” he breaks off, apparently unable to voice the rest of his thought. His face turns an impressive shade of crimson.

Castiel shoves his hands in his pockets. “Should I not have said that?” he asks, brow furrowing. This can’t be the first time Dean has been complimented on his looks. As Castiel understands, good looks are one of the main precursors to acceptance in Hollywood.

“No - I mean, maybe - never mind,” Dean fumbles, more out of sorts than Castiel has ever seen him. “It’s that nobody just out and says that, even to me.”

“I just did.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean says, but he’s smiling. “You should look in the mirror sometime, though.” He winks, and Castiel’s brain nearly fritzes out. “So that’s a yes?”

Castiel nods, an all-encompassing warmth filling his chest and exploding out to the tips of his fingers and toes. “I’d love to.”

“It’s a date.”

Read Part II here!

[redwinterroses]

RIIIIIIIIIGHT SO.

I just finished chapter 13 of Dog At The Door and holy hot cross buns batman if you're not reading this fic you NEED to. It's literally one of the best written fics I have ever read in my life and I've been reading fanfiction for over 15 years, lol.

I went back and reread the entire fic to lead up to chapter 13 and I decided to treat it like I used to treat things I had to read in college so I took notes as I went and please I am warning you this post is incredibly long. Almost 3k words. PLEASE do not hit that "read more" button unless you're good with having to scroll past it all and also spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.

~*~

Rereading Dog at the Door reactions (spoilers, obviously):

· Doc finding Ren’s body to be cold and for a second thinking he’s actually dead—my heart

· “That’s Ren, alive and kicking.” Oh…no, Doc. No it’s not.

· The first “Where is my hand?” hits different the second time through

· Gah the ice and winter imagery ALL over the place—my English degree brain wants to watch and see if that shifts to warmth at any point as we go? Thoughts for future Red to think.

· It’s fascinating to me to see Doc constantly thrust into the prey role. This is a guy who is very much not that person normally, but something about the Red King is beyond anything he’s really encountered before—or at least not since Dinnerbone—and it pushes him into an entirely new role that he clearly chafes in

· “I should get back to work on your new arm soon,” he says, making a mental note to add claws to the fingertips. Honestly Doc why tho. XD

· “It feels like something Ren would want him to do.” </3

· Side note: I just watched Doc’s freaking hour long shulker farm vid, and that’s making it a lot easier to hear his voice in this fic

· I’m more curious about the hand.” New Ren laughs a bit at his own words, as though there’s something funny about that phrasing. I MISSED THIS LINE THE FIRST TIME THROUGH

· The bead curtain being cursed hippie treasure XD

· The fact that Doc just so quickly accepts that Ren is gone—maybe not permanently, but at least for now—is kind of heartbreaking. Because you know he hasn’t really accepted it, he’s just… deciding not to feel anything about it. Just nod and move on and pretend you don’t need to stop and cope with the possible/probable death of your best friend and the fact that Someone Else is wearing his skin. That’s so sad.

· “high-fiving the finished hand with his own metal hand.” Aww… Doccy.

· “He shoos away the images of New Ren holding him up by the throat supervillain-style and turns around.” Hmmmmmmm want that fanart. Scary New Ren/RK is good stuff. (post-chapter-13 Red popping in with a WHAT THE HECK)

· “that makes him seem like a ghost in Ren’s body.” YA KNOW. LIKE HE IS.

· Okay side note time: why is the Red King here? Ya know? Like – in 3rdLife the idea of a possessing spirit of bloodlust makes some sense. But why stick around? Was RK trying to escape the 3L server, or was this not deliberate? At what point did he take over from Ren—at Black Heart Altar? In which case, was the whole idea Ren’s to begin with, or was he influenced? Maybe it happened the first time Ren died? The Red King took over then—or at least started to? Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts…

· Wait more theories—what if RK is connected to the ????? entity that spoke to Martyn when he died? In which case, cMartyn said he was considering making that canonically a Watcher (he ended up not doing it, but he also didn’t do anything that contradicted it either). I’m not saying RK is a Watcher… but boy he sure does stare a lot, don’t he.

· Holding the screwdriver like a dagger—mmmm

· Okay funny thought: all this frost, RK’s gonna need to be real careful about rust lol. And straining the metal, tbh, all that freezing and thawing is going to have an effect but the rust idea is making me laugh

· Until I realized it would look like blood and it’s not funny anymore

· “Renbob is in the beanbag stuffed next to the driver’s seat” right so is this where Renbob sleeps because I have been wondering—

· “something about having two people look like Ren when neither of them are makes Doc stop to take a shaky breath” *sob*

· “Renbob clears his throat, looking up at Doc with a smile that is so obviously fake that it hurts.” Ugh the LOT of you stop repressing everything you’ll give yourselves a collective hernia

· “he’ll probably have to break the news to the other hermits, too, Iskall and False and all the others.” All these painful lines I somehow missed the first time through

· Awww warm air comes in when Renbob opens the door—with the flowers and everything, Renbob is so easily associated with spring, I love this contrast.

· Aaand there it is, yup, RK is shocked to see his face on Renbob, and Renbob is shocked to see that this is so clearly Not Ren.

· They both recover pretty quickly, though. Survivors, both of them.

· RK calls Renbob their “ferryman” and I’m not sure if I was supposed to get “crossing the river Styx” vibes from that But I Did. (does RK think he’s dead? That they’re all dead?) (post-chapter-13 Red here with a little bit of wordless screaming.) (and also a bit of pride that I picked up on this.)

· “And what a help you’ve been! Fixing me up, replacing my hand.” Hi yes, 911? there’s a dagger stabbed into my feels.

· “he’d rather remember rage than see another person’s heart break.” Dang that’s such a raw line. Oof.

· ”the Red King says, his voice hoarse with tears.” Really interesting that this blood deity can feel such emotions—like, anger or even fear, I can get. But to see this entity upset to the point of tears is fascinating.

· “There is a crown on Doc’s workbench.” Right, yeah so like—is RK unwillingly manifesting these artifacts? Because that’s wild, man. …how long before he manifests an “enchanter”?

· “I’ve never seen it [the crown] clean before.” Okay that definitely implies that maybe RK didn’t come around until after Black Heart Altar?

· “The Red King has the crown in his lap when Doc turns back around, claws gently tracing over the engravings, leaving frost patterns behind.” I really wish I had art skills because there’s this image in my head of a drawing of the crown held in RK’s hands, with his face (one eye glowing, one in shadow) reflected in the surface, and frost patterns following behind a claw that’s daintily tracing the surface. But I can’t draw so—

· RK asks for a change of clothes. What was he wearing when they rescued him, I wonder? The Red King outfit with the fur capelet? Or Ren’s Stargazer outfit? Which begs the question: where does Stargazer fit into all this? Was Ren’s return to Hermitcraft RK free, but when he came so close to dying to Sith, RK found that as a gateway to take over? (Post-13 Red here, Looking Intently at this note.)

· Awww… the image of a one-legged RK clutching new clothes to his chest and hopping down to change in the bathroom… That’s weirdly endearing. He’s less menacing when he stands up somehow. Less lurking, maybe.

· Oooohhhhh he messed up his back sleeping on the floor. Gotcha.

· Doc keeps telling himself (and RK) that saving him and working on these parts is “the right thing to do” and while he’s not WRONG I just want to see him realize that it’s not only the right thing, it’s realistically the only thing, because if he didn’t, then he’d have to deal with the fact that he’s lost his best friend and we can’t have that.

· “I don’t need to eat” ummmmmm no hold on this definitely implies that RK is possessing a dead body and I’m not okay with that where is Ren

· LOLOL “I can’t stand to see [you do] this” is such a raw line to be about watching Doc eat cereal with his hands

· “The voice doesn’t belong to who he thinks it does.” Ugh, Doc. This isn’t the first time he’s lost a close friend to Something Else, something otherworldly.

· “All of them are waiting for him, waiting for him to do something more, something better—” aaand there it is. Doc’s characterization in this fic in a single sentence.

· Doc waking up and thinking he’s seeing Ren and RK’s hesitation and the gentle “I’m not Ren”—OH MY HEART

· RK’s coffee = Renbob’s friendship bracelets

· Randomly can I just say that I love how RK’s dialog is all in italics? It concerned me at first because I thought it was going to keep pulling me out of the narrative, but instead it really just feels right. Also I’m looking forward to the moment when he says something and it’s not in italics because it’s REN and oh my lands please give this to me I beg you (post-13 Red here with a bit more mindless screaming)

· “watch your tongue with me, Atlas, because I’m the one person you can pass the sky to.” Okay okay okay—English studies brain coming out. This suggests that there is a burden RK and Doc can share: something Doc is currently struggling against that only RK can help him with. In the moment, I don’t know if this is really fair of RK to say—after all, Doc does technically have Renbob too, if we��re just talking about Doc’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. In fact, if that’s the context, then Renbob is a much better fellow-Atlas because he and Doc have known each other much longer and they’re both dealing with the loss of Ren. BUT, knowing about the upcoming conversation where Doc and RK both realize that they’ve lost someone (Ren for Doc, Martyn for RK) this line suddenly has a lot more weight. Again, I don’t think that in that moment RK quite has the right to pull this zinger. But in later context, it turns out to be true after all. They are the only two with this particular shared pain.

· Doc upset with himself because he can’t get over his “stupid hang-ups” DOC MY LAD. “I’ve lost my best friend, you’re in his body, and I don’t know how to process any of these emotions” is not a “stupid hang-up” PLEASE stop blaming yourself for everything!?

· “I’m so tired” in the middle of his nightmare—oh my gosh. That hurts so much for some reason.

· I also very much wish I had the ability to draw the image of Doc with tears on his face, staring dead-eyed down at his workbench while RK looms over from behind, pinning his wrists to the table with one metal arm and one frost-bitten one, a look of exasperation and concern on his face. Why can’t I draw the things

· “How do you know Etho” “I watched him die.” OW ow ow ow ow

· Doc takes this as calmly as only someone used to living in a world where death has low consequences can. Oh. Oh—that means… huh. Doc isn’t used to losing people permanently on any basis, especially not death. So no wonder he doesn’t know how to process Ren being gone (I can’t bear to write “dead” there). He literally doesn’t have context for it… and what context he DOES have is like—I mean, Etho and Bdubs came back. Ouch.

· “Twenty-five.” The Red King makes the number sound like a threat. Yet another banger line I missed the first time through. Imagine waking up and thinking you’re in 3rd Life again but instead of 14 players there’s almost twice that many and you think you don’t know any of them.

· I still don’t quite understand the “when was etho added/should have known there was something different” bit or why RK is so emotional about it… but I have trust that it’ll make sense at some point. (post-13 Red: ...is this something about the fact that he thinks he's dead...so he thinks Etho has died before? Like, that 3rd Life wasn't Etho's first hardcore? ...I feel like I'm almost grasping this but I'm missing an element somewhere.)

· And now a sword. RK. My man. You need to stop manifesting things—especially when they scare the ever-living daylights out of you.

· I absolutely adore the in-universe lore that Fire Aspect is a PvP enchantment because it threatens dropped loot, and yeah I very well might steal that. (Along with something I read at one point who-even-knows-where that Knockback is a coward’s enchantment, because I love that too.)

· He really shouldn’t. / Doc picks up the sword by the scabbard and hands it to him, hilt extended. Doc you already trust this guy so much and you don’t even know it—but is it just because you still subconsciously trust the face he wears? Or is it something deeper?

· Ugh, the “I was supposed to kill someone for him” conversation/scene is SO FREAKING GOOD

· “I don’t want it. Not like the crown.” Why, though? Why doesn’t he want it? Because it’s more to do with death than kingship? OH. Oh, I hadn’t even considered that. I’ve been thinking of RK as this like, god of blood and vengeance but maybe he’s not. Maybe he hates the bloodshed (“the blood! It’s drippin’ in me eyes… I’ve been blinded by the violence…”) just as much—more?—than Ren did/would have. Huh. That’s a new facet.

· Oh my heart the “have you ever lost someone and it was your fault” line. Dagger to the feels. Dagger to the feels.

· This like… “I’m on a roll and even though I know I should stop I really don’t want to” mode? Man. That’s relatable. Especially when you’re working to avoid dealing with something else.

· “Not making it for you—it’s for Ren” oh ouch ouch ouch the denial suddenly breaks through it’s okay, Doc I’m with you on this

· The second time reading through it’s far clearer that Doc has a blind panic attack here—when he starts rambling that Ren’s coming back, he’ll be there for season eight and RK goes to…do whatever he was going to do and Doc just blanks out. The manic productivity should have been a warning sign, the poor guy is crumbling.

· “Doctor” and “he’s not sure he deserves that title right now” UGH Doc needs a hug someone please hug him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. Someone please hug me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.

· “his hand on his throat” over the scar from the Red Winter axe? </3

· “I did do that. I have done that.” RK admitting to it actually having been him in Doc’s nightmares?

· Okay sorry the conversation about beating Dinnerbone will never not be funny to me

· RK mentions that people used to call him m’lord or Ren, and then mere minutes later you have “Ren. You couldn’t save him because of me, could you?” He knows exactly what’s going on here. Not maliciously, but he’s no dense-head, he’s put the pieces together. (post-13 Red: MOST of the pieces. Most of them.)

· Watching Doc slowly stop fighting his nightmares—like, the first time, he fights. The second time, he accepts it but still struggles. And this time… this time he gives up before it even starts. That hurts, man.

· Good grief the whole “get my head chopped off” / “you really don’t want that” bit. O.O I’m not sure what emotion I’m feeling but I’m Feeling An Emotion.

· “Snow’s new. Dream’s not.” </3

· …Doc’s not gonna be a fan of snowier-snow after this trip…

· "Dr. M77" Actually he’s Doc Monster, RK, but we’ll let it go. XD

· OKAY BUT THIS EXCHANGE? The “how are you feeling” / “better” / “you’re a bad liar” / “I said better not great” that’s such a good exchange and I don’t know why every other time I’ve ever seen it used they stop at the lying accusation? Doc with the snappy comebacks, man.

· Aaah, Doc and RK, two establishment bros bonding over a shared disdain for hippies.

· The bit about the fella who wore an iron helmet and called it a powdered wig—fear is in my heart. *shoves Scar into an obsidian box and blocks it closed*

· “Who was Ren to you?” </3

· Doc is more than willing to spread the flames, to sear his loss into RK’s bones. / The king’s face stops him. Ren’s face stops him. Holy CRAP is that a good set of lines. So much going on there, and ALL of it good.

· Again. I wish I could draw. I would draw RK sitting on the edge of the bed, gently hugging a collapsed-in-on-himself Doc. </3

· “And I hate the devil that forced us apart, that mixed my blood with his.” *adds another layer to Scar’s obsidian fort*

· OKAY STARTING CHAPTER THIRTEEN I made the mistake of logging into Tumblr earlier and saw people screaming so I’m sure I’m not ready for this but here we go

· Oh no RK has been hippie-ified

· “You started a paramilitary organization because you have hay fever?” *dies laughing*

· Ugh I need to go back and watch s6 I’ve only seen the tail end of Mumbo’s side of things and there’s so much I don’t know.

· HAHAHAHAH I do know the trident bit though—

· Wait he said Scar

· PANIC

· “Kingslayer. bloodthirsty. Time King. The coward. And the mastermind behind it all, the loyal soldier to the very end, the whole damn reason either of us are in this mess.”

· HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY—

· “Is this the afterlife I deserve? After everything, this is the hell I’m going to endure?” I AM SCREAMING

· Doc pinned to the wall with ice, struggling to breathe—I CAN’T WHAT IS HAPPENING

· ((You know I’d get through this a lot faster if I stopped pausing to write reactions—))

· “A break in the ice. A whisper of spring.” Symbolism. Symbolism.

· “Ren was dead when I found him again,” NO I REFUSE TO READ THIS

· “don’t use the hand I built you to hurt yourself” DOC. SIR. MY HEART.

· RK don't run, RK get back here—what are you—

·

·

· I

· JUST

· ACTUALLY

· SCREAMED

· AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

· *several long moments of just breathing*

·

·

·

· *rereads*

· Holy crap on a garbage cracker with an extra serving of what-the-heck sauce

· REN

· REN

· Okay lol okay hahaha calming down

· I literally threw myself back in my chair away from the computer reading that last paragraph. I don't usually... physically react to things I read. LOL. Heh. I’m. Ah. I’m not emotionally invested in this or anything.

· Holy crap.

· Okay. Okay. Okay.

· Um.

· Great chapter, guys. Awesome stuff. Really good. I’m absolutely okay right now and it’s all totally fine.

· …please enjoy your break and get lots of rest and I very much look forward to the return of this fic you have no idea.

· I need to go breathe for a little bit.

EDIT: no, you know what--I'm not going to be a nice polite fangirl over here and quietly hope y'all see this I'm straight up tagging you, @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands. THANK YOU but also how dare.

[peaches-writes]

seven hundred and one

description: seven centuries and you always seem to bump into hyunjin at least once in every one of them member: hyunjin genre: fluff, childhood friends to lovers au, slow burn (technically it is), historical au, vampire au (vampire!skz, implied incubus!hyunjin idk yall decide), witch au (immortal!reader), a sprinkle of established relationship towards the end, implied fem reader word count: 10.3k warning: explicit language, mentions of blood, murder, death, trauma, arson, suggestive (i turn 19 & suddenly i get brave lmao) note: hyunjin playing a thousand years on his post-mucore vlive that happened to fall on my birthday did things to my feelings + took a lot of liberties w the history & nature or vampires if that’s okay + if the narration is confusing just tell me lmao + established relationship au’s in detail makes my head spin ew cheesy stuff

zero

You have always been a traveler even in 1319 when you were still twelve and mortal. Being born and raised into a coven of witches at a time when witchcraft and other non-conforming practices were punishable by death, you naturally had to be for your own safety. Growing up, you had to move from village to village with your family, helping villagers in secret as your main source of income then leaving before word would inevitably and uncontrollably spread; thus leaving you with little to no room to grow intimate attachments with people who are not kin.

Not that you minded the last, anyway, because your mother would always remind you that you can always go back after some time. Korea was vast, then, but there were only a few places you could go to in a cycle. Then, you met Hyunjin.

Hwang Hyunjin has always been a prince, but especially in 1319 when he was still twelve and human. Besides his undeniably regal looks and naturally graceful disposition, he was also a noble in King Taejeong’s court. Of course, you’ve already forgotten his exact title at the time after centuries of living but you do have an inkling of a memory wherein he mentioned something about being related to the king somehow—this said memory being the first time you met him.

You don’t remember all the specific details now but you’re quite certain that you moved to the capital Hanseong in the first place because your mother’s services was requested by the king himself to treat one of his daughters, the only time the monarchy acknowledged you. You can also faintly remember being allowed to wander on your own at the marketplace right outside of the palace courts on the day you arrived only because you competed with your cousins over who can unpack their belongings the fastest and won.

Even now, over seven hundred years later, you’re still thankful that Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong somehow forgot some of their bags in your carriage that day or else you would’ve missed bumping into Hyunjin completely.

He was receiving his chosen bouquet of carnations from a flower stall at the market entrance when you approached, the bright colors of the display chrysanthemums initially catching your eye. As you asked the stand owner about the blue flowers, you noticed that Hyunjin didn’t seem to have any intentions of paying, prompting you to stop him from walking away to ask, “Aren’t you going to pay for that?”

Hyunjin momentarily froze in his steps before turning around to you with raised eyebrows, his head slowly turning from you to the pink flowers in his hands. After this brief pause, you then heard him laugh in amusement for the first time, confusing you further in the moment. “I, uh, I don’t have to. It’s—it’s free for me.”

Ever the curious child, you then asked next, “For you? Why?”

Hyunjin would confess to you later on, some time when you briefly met at an art exhibit in 1880s Spain, that he only entertained you because no one has ever asked him such question in a long time when you did. Because of his status, people both inside and outside the court would leave him alone to do whatever he wants and so he thought it was refreshing that you did otherwise when you first met. He also mentioned something about finding you cute in the fashion of your time but you always dismiss this in embarrassment. You were only seven, for crying out loud.

And so, taking a step closer to you, he then lifted the bouquet up to the level of your faces after he leaned down to your height and, with a mischievous smile, loudly whispered to you, “I’m from the palace courts—an important person to the king!”

Hyunjin still insists at present that he did tell you exactly what his title and relation to the king was but every time you challenge him to tell you what he said, he would clumsily steer the conversation away to something else. Besides this, you have always agreed that you furrowed your eyebrows deeper at him in response and replied, “Still, you should pay. Earning money is difficult these days.” which piqued Hyunjin’s interest in you further.

“I will,” He assured you smoothly, bringing the bouquet down after and turning to the stand owner. Gesturing to the chrysanthemums you’ve been eyeing, he then continues, “if you let me pay for your chrysanthemums. The reason why I couldn’t pay is because my money right now is too big, anyway.”

You protested against his offer politely, reasoning out that you had no intention of buying, but with Hyunjin’s status as a noble also came a persuasive charm to him. “Didn’t you just move here? I can tell with the travelling hanbok.” He pointed out to you, already gathering the best-looking chrysanthemums before he could even hear you say ‘yes.’ You started showing signs of giving in after some five minutes of friendly banter, prompting his optimism. “Consider this as a welcoming gift!”

You had no choice but to accept the flowers in the end with the promise of giving him something in return when you meet again around the palace courts after briefly mentioning your reason for moving to the capital. Holding your bouquet on your left hand to mirror Hyunjin’s bouquet on his right, you then extended your right hand to him before you could part ways. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” You then introduced yourself, already too focused then on thinking of how to repay Hyunjin. “In case I forget and you want to look for me.“

“Hwang Hyunjin. I would definitely not forget but really, you don’t have to repay me.” He smiled as he took your hand in his, reluctantly letting go only when older passersby gave you curious looks. “I just hope you have a good stay here in Hanseong!”

You then made a bracelet out of one stem of the chrysanthemums almost a month later as payment, preserving the petals inside transparent beads with an enchantment that would prevent them from losing their vibrant blue. By this time, you have been seeing Hyunjin almost every day around the palace grounds and with this, he has been slowly piecing together the entire reason for your court presence. With the bracelet, you indirectly confirmed your true nature to him and he wholeheartedly accepted you with a hug behind the hallway pillars.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

You‘ve been best friends ever since, even when you had to leave two years later. At present, Hyunjin still wears the bracelet—even when you insist in making him a new one.

“I like it.” He always tells you whenever you would bring it up. “I liked it then, I like it now, and I’ll like it forever.”

“It’s ancient.” You would scrunch up your nose in response. “You could literally sell it at the local museum.”

“Well, that says a lot about your age, doesn’t i—ow! Ow, I won’t say that ever again just sto—ya, stop hitting me!”

seven

Your family briefly returned to Hanseong five years after your stay to attend one of the elder princesses’ wedding, the same princess your mother has been tasked to treat when she was hired by the king. You were eighteen and almost ready to part with your coven in the event that your mother will ask when you turn nineteen in the fall, having grown particularly proficient in brewing potions after you first left the capital. Hyunjin, on the other hand, became a more prominent public figure in the courts at nineteen as talks of the king appointing one of his sons as crowned prince become more frequent, thus initially making your first reunion awkward.

“Should I address you as Your Highness?” You asked between your teeth as you carefully curtsied back at Hyunjin, glancing on the corners of your eyes in case the passing servants were sparing you looks. “I don’t really know how these things work.”

“No, no need, I don’t think anyone really cares.” He chuckled with a shake of his head as the two of you then simultaneously stood up straight. Looking around the two of you after, his grin then grew wider when he looked back at you before he engulfed you in a hug, startling you— even more when he lifted you up slightly from the ground and spun you once. “Oh, Y/N, I missed you!”

“Y-Ya! Hyunjin, p-put me down, someone could see!” You scolded him instinctively while frantically looking around for any signs of his or your relatives. “Hyunjin!”

“Don’t mind them!” He countered back at you, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a deep inhale after putting you down. “I missed you. You haven’t written since late Spring!”

You shrugged, feeling strangely cold when he pulled away after. “I’ve been—well, we‘ve been busy. It’s the summer so a lot of people are asking for us and most of my cousins, um, parted with us after my last letter.”

“Oh.” He frowned, having thought of it negatively at first. “I’m sorry about that.”

You remember distinctly shaking your head reassuringly at him over his apology, waving your hand dismissively in front of him at realizing that he misinterpreted. “No, it’s alright. When you turn nineteen, you’re given the choice as tradition—most of my older cousins just so happened to choose parting ways with us.” You then explained, even giving him a small smile. “It’s nothing personal. It does give us the younger ones more work, though, hence why I couldn’t write.”

With your explanation, Hyunjin then smiled. “Oh, oh, I see.” He muses. “Then, I’m glad we meet again after a long time! I really was starting to worry you were taking longer to reply!”

“Well, we’ll be staying here for two weeks—that should be enough time to catch up.” You then matched your smile with his, following him to the palace gardens when he offers you to, ‘for old time’s sake’ he reasoned. “Then at the end of the week, we get to attend a wedding! Honestly, I’m really excited, I’ve only ever seen weddings from afar when my aunt would perform rituals for good weather.”

“Then you’ll be in for a great time! Weddings are absolutely lovely, especially here in court!” He promised you that afternoon before proceeding to recall to you the countless weddings that have happened within the confines of the palace courts in his life.

Only, the wedding somehow ended in catastrophe when the day actually came because of a group of hired assassins who managed to get to nearly every one of the royal family in attendance including Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin!” You cried for him amidst the stampede and the fire that has somehow started from one of the guest tables, Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong tugging you in the opposite direction by your arms and waist waist and preventing you from running back to his bloodied body. “Hyunjin!”

“Y/N, no, we have to leave!” Chaeryeong scolded you countless of times that night, tears streaming down her own face in fear as your mothers and aunts ushered your entire coven to retreat back to the woods. “We have to go!”

“B-But Hyunjin!” You insisted in between sobs every single time, your attempts at escaping your cousins’ grasps becoming weaker and weaker until they eventually managed to reunite you with the rest of your coven after. “We can still save him—I can save him! He’s still conscious, for God’s sake!”

Hyunjin received two fatal stab wounds to his chest and stomach that night as one of the assassins’ last few victims before fleeing because of the fire, pushing him on his stomach to the ground in his own pool of blood. Even with the fear and panic coursing through your veins and your blurry vision as you navigated your way through the chaos, you knew that you could heal him quickly with the right enchantments and potions and that you could carry him with you all the way to the forest where your needed herbs could possibly be available but your cousins wouldn’t listen to you, forcing you to abandon your friend that night for your own sake.

You remember vividly, even to this day, this particular image of Hyunjin seemingly dying on the ground, eyes pleading you to follow your cousins as he clutched his chest and choked on his own blood, because it still gives you nightmares every night despite the assurance that he was eventually saved. Hyunjin laughs at you over this now but whenever you would scowl and hit him in the arm for making it seem as if he thinks of his human death as a joke, he would immediately pull you into his embrace and apologize.

“I’m sorry.” He always whispers in your ear at present, stroking your hair and hugging you significantly tighter each time. “It’s just that it’s all in the past now and I’ve let it go way back. I just hope you do too because I’m still here—and I’ll always be.”

“I don’t think I can—not in a hundred more years, I think.” You would frown in response, also recently acquiring the habit of gathering fistfuls of his shirt in the process. “It’s too—it’s too—“

“I understand. Shh. I’m sorry, again...”

nine

In the event that a family member turns twenty-one, your entire extended family gathers to perform a ritual on the full moon after their date of birth in order to grant them immortality which can only be broken by willful death. It was an ancient and seemingly controversial tradition unique to your family, the elder generations were close and wanted to be close with everyone in this fashion.

When you were younger, with your innocent sense of adventure, you’ve always looked forward to being the recipient of this particular ritual at the thought that it would give you more time to explore both in and, hopefully, out of Korea. But when it came to the first full moon after your twenty-first birthday, you felt nothing but dread throughout the entire night.

“I just think it’s meaningless!” You cried into Chaeryeong’s shoulder once you’ve managed to return to your lodgings, pulling your knees closer to your chest as the two of you sat in your bed. “Why should I continue living when I have nothing to look forward to anymore? When someone else deserved to live?”

Chaeryeong still feels guilty about it even at present, often apologizing to Hyunjin whenever she would come across him, but she felt this feeling the heaviest in this moment hundreds if years ago as she stroked your back comfortingly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N...I know anything I can say right now wouldn’t make you feel better or make what happened right but I’m so sorry. It was you or him and Chaeyeon and I had to make a choice.”

“But w-we could’ve—we could’ve s-saved him!”

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry...”

“Hyunjin, my best friend—“ You sobbed until morning despite Chaeryeong’s pleas for you to sleep. “My Hyunjin, he’s gone because of me.”

And until morning, Chaeryeong kept an eye out for you in case you did something to yourself as you mourned. “None of it was your fault. If anything, it was mine.” She told you over and over again until you fell asleep at sunrise. “Y/N, please...”

Chaeryeong and Chaeyeon ended up watching over you closely for the two months that followed, wary of your actions until you confronted them again about it and assured them that you weren’t thinking about doing something else that could potentially harm you.

You then completely parted ways with them after.

eighty-eight

You have already travelled the entirety of Korea on your own once when you unexpectedly meet Hyunjin again. Eighty-one years after his supposed death and with a new king already on the throne, you‘ve almost forgotten all about your childhood best friend because of the passing time that it completely startled you when you saw a glimpse of his face in the crowd of a village somewhere in Pyongyang.

He smiled at you from afar in the brief second your eyes first met, even subtly tipping his hat as he walked towards you from the opposite direction which effectively froze you in the middle of the street.

Shaking your head in thought, you frowned and look away at the seemingly random remembrance of the past. You’ve always thought then that you’ve already forgotten most of your childhood, especially those that ended in tragedy, and so you instantly felt a wave of disappointment in yourself at suddenly seeing a familiar face of the past in the crowd.

But when you looked up and see that Hyunjin has already reached you on your spot, your breath got caught in your throat and your eyes began to sting in the moment as tears threatened to fall at the sight of seeing your best friend’s smile again in person. You then instinctively held out a hand to touch his hanbok. “Y-You—y-you’re—“

“I-I’m alive...” He stammered out almost in the same fashion as you, his grin only growing bigger after the longer you stood frozen in front of him. When you don’t respond immediately in prolonged shock, he then lifted you up in a hug, planting your feet right on top of his this time as he pulled you impossibly closer to him. “I missed you, very, very much. I thought I’d never see you again.”

It took you a long moment to hug him back, making some passersby look. “I thought I—I thought that I’d never see you again.” You reply once you find your voice again, warily lifting your hands up to his shoulders as if he might disappear. “How are you—h-how are you alive?”

Pulling away briefly to examine his face, you then added, “A-and you look the same...”

At first, Hyunjin only shook his head at you, still overwhelmed at finally seeing you again to care about explaining. “I’ll, uh, I’ll explain everything later.” He whispered to you, pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes as he sighs in relief. “Please, just...let me hold you for now.”

After this scene in public, Hyunjin then took you to the lodgings where he was staying at with his friend, Seungmin, whom you would eventually came to realize was the vampire who saved him that night along with the fact that your best friend was now a vampire himself. “I was passing by the palace grounds on the way to a safe passage to the next village.” Seungmin elaborated further on Hyunjin’s story over a cup of tea and buckets of crying. “When I saw the fire, I got curious and approached then I saw Hyunjin trying to crawl out to safety so I helped him up, took him to the forest, and turned him.”

Seungmin would also tell you much later on, when you meet again by chance centuries later in 1930s Thailand, that he also didn’t know first-aid at the time so his immediate alternative was to turn Hyunjin in panic, having seen another friend of his, Chan, do it in a similar extreme emergency situation. Hyunjin also laughs at this at present, especially when he first found out, and you’d let yourself giggle occasionally but you always make sure to thank him sincerely after, even when he always assures you that it’s nothing. “You helped me reunite with my best friend.” You would tell him, your voice always low enough so only Seungmin would hear even with Hyunjin’s enhanced hearing. “You didn’t just saved him that night, you saved me too—just eighty-one years later—so thank you.”

And so, you ended up travelling with the two for almost a hundred and fifty years, eventually meeting Seungmin’s other nomadic friends while helping Hyunjin adjust better to his new lifestyle and developing skills. You only had to forcibly part ways after because your mother sent you a letter all the way from Xinjiang, China, requesting for your presence at a family member’s funeral.

“The mourning period for our family is is fifty years,” You explained to the two on the morning you had to leave them. You were staying in Beijing during this time in 1657. “and she was my mother’s favourite sister, I have to be there for her, especially.”

Hyunjin had a slight frown in his face until you left on a horse-drawn carriage that day but he straightened it out into a thin line and pursed his lips once: when he came to hug you goodbye as you were packing, wrapping his arms around your waist in a back hug. “Write to me, please?” He pleaded over your shoulder. “If we really have to be apart again for a long time, then at least write to me.”

You nodded at his request, swiftly turning around to prperly hug him back. “I will, promise, just tell me where you’ll be next.” You instructed him, pulling away after to hug Seungmin goodbye. “Please take good care of yourselves and always be careful.”

“We will.” Seungmin assures you sincerely, having grown fond of you in a familial way over the years. “You take care, too.”

“I’ll see you again very soon!”

Hyunjin received a letter from you almost two months later, thus beginning your hundred years long correspondence. 

three-hundred eighty-eight

When the fifty-year mourning period for your family ended, your mother asked you to stay with her longer, prompting you to write to Hyunjin that you’ll have to extend your time away before being free to meet him again. Simultaneously, Hyunjin began writing to you about his and Seungmin’s adventures with Chan, Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin around Asia, especially the possibility of him and his friends of the same nature forming a coven amongst themselves and how he had somewhat developed a vampiric gift, the latter of which he couldn’t write to you about explicitly until you accidentally met again in person a month before your extended stay was over.

Well, you’re still not sure at present if you really did meet in person at the time because, besides some subtle inaccuracies in the memory itself, there would be times at present when Hyunjin would insist that you did and times when he would deny it completely in embarrassment. “You know, maybe you were just fever dreaming me up, then!” Hyunjin would tell you now whenever he feels like denying it as a slight blush creeps up his cheeks, coughing awkwardly in between and making sure to run as far away from you as possible. “Or maybe—ha!—did you have a crush on me as early as the 1600s? You know, they do say that distance makes the heart grow fonde—ow!”

But dream or not, this memory is still burned at the very back of your head even hundreds of years later and it’s embarrassingly awful that all of your telepath and clairvoyant friends either joke or complain to you about it from seeing fragments of it replay in your thoughts often.

In this memory, you met Hyunjin in your house at Xinjiang while your mother was away to run errands. You consider this as one of your biggest hints that this was a dream since Hyunjin and his friends were in Laos until you met with them halfway later on along with the fact that he appeared in your bedroom of all places when you have long made it a habit of placing all kinds of protective charms in this particular space of yours.

“H-Hyunjin?” You called out for him when you saw his reflection in the mirror as you worked on your desk, glancing over your shoulder with a fond smile on his lips. Turning around, you then jumped up from your seat and right into his arms, laughing in disbelief when you felt him encircle his arms around your waist. “Hyunjin! When did you get here? How did you get here? I thought you’re in—”

His laugh that followed still echoes at the back of your head occasionally, even more the feeling of his lips pressing a feathery kiss on the fabric draped over your shoulders. “Doesn’t matter, I’m here.” He dismissed with a sigh, pulling away from the hug after in order to gently cup your face in his hands. Tilting his head down slightly to level with your eyes, a smirk then formed on his lips as he studied your features carefully and added, “I missed you. You look even more beautiful than when we last met.”

Hyunjin insists that you’re exaggerating this part but his closest friend and current roommate, Jeongin, is a mind reader and the poor boy accidentally sees through your thoughts that it isn’t every time he brings it up, making everyone in the vicinity feel awkward and embarrassed. It also doesn’t help that, in this memory, you’re quite sure that Hyunjin surprised you with a kiss after, urgently crashing his lips onto yours and backing you up to your desk.

You always make sure to keep it in a part in your thoughts that Jeongin can’t read but, besides your genuine shock, you initially didn’t pull away from the kiss because of the feeling that the gesture somehow affirmed your previous doubts on your almost four hundred years-worth of feelings for your best friend. You didn’t kiss him back with as much force as he did, even when he almost drew blood from biting your bottom lip or when he smoothly slipped his tongue in your mouth as his hands took hold of yours on the sides of the desk, but you thought a lot about him in the moment—mostly about how you were questioning your feelings for him prior to when he appeared out of nowhere.

It also definitely didn’t help that he kept whispering ‘I missed you so much’ in between gasps of air too. It still makes your heart melt to this day (and Jeongin disgusted whenever he passes by you and accidentally hears your thoughts. “Can you two please just stop being horny over each other all the time? It’s been 700 years.” “Yang Jeongin, get back here!”) 

You realized, as Hyunjin moved to trail desperate kisses down your neck, that maybe you did have a crush on your best friend and it was okay even if it was just because of the longing to see him after years or the loneliness of eternal life. You liked him a lot, maybe you even loved him as early as this moment you’re not even sure anymore but you’ve always been certain from that this very moment, you never wanted to be apart from him for too long.

But it still scared you after a while, even when you already felt assured over your previous qualms, and you unknowingly pushed him away because of this, right as he tugged on your clothes and snaked a hand up your dress. “Hyunjin, stop!” In a wave of fear, you pushed him away with an enchantment, making him fly all the way across the room until his back hit the opposite wall. “S-Shit, I’m so sorry, I—“

In response, you remember him shaking his head reassuringly. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” He assures you, his voice just barely above a whisper. “It’s just that I—nevermind, I should be sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N...”

Before you could even say anything else, however, he vanished into thin air right in front of you, leaving you even more confused than before.

When you do actually meet Hyunjin and the others a month later, you couldn’t bring yourself to confront him about it somehow even when you were quick to notice that he was avoiding you after Minho proudly boasted to you that he started training Hyunjin to navigate other people’s dreams. Besides the fact that it made heat rise up to your face alarmingly that Changbin started joking about you trying to lure all vampires within the vicinity into sucking your neck dry, you also didn’t know how to approach Hyunjin in the case that you had to inevitably tell him your feelings. Though you had a clearer idea of your feelings then, you still weren’t ready to confess it to him yet.

So, reluctantly, you had to part ways again because of this, you coming up with a lame excuse to see your cousins all the way in Europe at the thought that you wanted to think your feelings through again while also giving Hyunjin his much needed space. You ended up leaving the group in 1763 somewhere in Shanghai, a hundred and nineteen years after the incident.

“Ah, I don’t think I’m suited for the coven life anymore.” You pointed out awkwardly at Hyunjin as you hugged him last at the ports. “It’s just—not the same, I guess. I think I have to travel on my own for a while...”

Even with the awkwardness, Hyunjin still hugged you tightly anyway and even planted a familiar kiss to your shoulder. “Write to me again, okay?”

“Always.” You assured through the frantic beating of your heart. You notice him catching your hand in between the two of you when you pull away from the hug, almost rendering you speechless. “I’ll see you when I see you. It’s just goodbye for now.”

Jeongin once spilled to you one day that of all the similar situations after that Hyunjin has let you go after seeing you again, he always thinks about this one in particular the most and how he should’ve asked for you to stay; and you hit the younger boy with one of your books in response for snooping. But still, it has also made you start wondering lately if things would’ve changed if you parted ways differently then.

“Yes, it’s goodbye for now.”

four hundred ninety-nine

The next two hundred and four years would then be spent in an unconscious game of cat and mouse between you and Hyunjin. Whenever Chan and Minho would let him, he would follow you by your letters around Europe and Africa and he would more often than not miss the opportunity of approaching. When he did manage to catch up with you, you would go to lunch with him and show him around the place you’re staying at until the tension eventually died off as you occupied yourselves with other things.

Hyunjin first saw you again in Crete in 1818 when you started to learn foreign forms of witchcraft, missing the chance to approach you only because you disappeared from his watch because he chickened out last minute from recalling your previous incident in his mind. He would then see you again in 1825 Austria, studying the stars with Chaeryeong and a friend, Yuna, until he missed you by a boat ride to Egypt, then again in 1861 Congo when he would got in the wrong carriage and somehow ended up in in Algeria.

You eventually noticed, of course, how his return addresses seemed to pattern yours but you never brought it up until you he first caught up with you in 1884 Spain, when you went to the same art exhibit and ended up talking for hours until the tensions from almost a hundred years before completely vanished. “Are you following me?” You asked him teasingly mid-conversation as the two of you observed the Spolarium. “You have accumulated wealth from 400 years and you spend it by following me?” 

Hyunjin froze instinctively, an easy giveaway from him in your years of knowing each other. “What? No! I’m just—ya, you’re not the only one who can like travelling!” He quickly denied until you giggled in amusement, making him confess everything truthfully later on over lunch. 

You then ended up dedicating two hours to recounting all the times you almost met, laughing at almost every one of them because of Hyunjin’s undeniable clumsiness. By the end of his tales, he’s pouting at all your teasing in defeat as he asked, “Can’t you really live with us again? We’ve all moved back in Korea, you know—well, except Seungmin since he’s back in his trying to get all kinds of educational degrees in the world phase again.”

You didn’t want to admit it to him then up until now but you’ve thought about the exact same thing countless of times in your travels. Learning new skills and travelling the world has always been something you thoroughly enjoyed, you are a traveler after all, but you also couldn’t deny that you’d miss seeing Hyunjin more than anyone else you’ve met in your whole lifetime.

Without you knowing, you’ve realized that somewhere in between the correspondences you’ve managed throughout the centuries and the frequent meetings around the world, you’ve completely fallen in love with your best friend. You were sure of it then. 

However, before you parted ways again three years later to head further West while Hyunjin had to hurry back East for sneaking out from Minho this time, you answered his question with, “Let me think about it.” 

And, surprisingly, he understood. When you wrote to him from Brazil six months later, he replies with a long letter detailing his adventures halfway across the world in New Zealand as well as Middlemist’s Reds pressed in between the papers—one you would scold him later on once you found out that they were extremely rare.

 “Where did you put those rare New Zealand flowers, by the way?” Hyunjin asked you just last week, almost as if he remembered at the same time as you. 

“It’s somewhere.” You mused absentmindedly over your cup of coffee, hand instinctively going up to fiddle with the pearls on your ears where you discreetly hid the flowers. 

six-hundred eleven

When you met Seungmin by chance in 1930s Thailand, you immediately asked him about one of the earliest models of the 35 mm film he acquired from his own travels and the photos he took. Since Hyunjin was in California with Jisung, Jeongin, and Felix while Chan, Minho, and Changbin stayed behind in Korea, Seungmin showed you how the film worked by letting you see the photographs he took of your friends, especially Jeongin and Felix who were still new to their family at the time but you’ve immediately welcomed as your little brothers. The photographs mostly depicted them candidly in their day-to-day and though you have countless of similar photos now in your own smartphone, you couldn’t help but tear up at seeing these photos in particular at the time. 

“Hey, don’t stain my photos now, the film’s expensive.” Seungmin chuckled as he patted your shoulders comfortingly with one hand while the other took the photos from your side of the table. “What’s wrong?” 

You sobbed into his shoulder that afternoon, attracting the attention of some passersby at the restaurant you had breakfast together at. “I-I, uh—I missed everyone.” You told him, the first time you ever confided in someone else these very thoughts. Not even Chaeryeong, whom you would stay with every five years or so, knew this. “It’s just—it’s so lonely now and I...I love travelling but it just feels empty now—”

“Then come home. Come home when you think you’re ready, we’ll all be waiting for you—Hyunjin will be waiting for you.” Seungmin finished your thought for you gently, momentarily removing his hand from your shoulder to separate Hyunjin’s photos from the pile. Passing them to you again, he then adds, “If it makes you feel better, you can keep his photos if you want but for a little request.”

You then left Thailand to live with your mother in India four years later with Hyunjin’s photographs tucked neatly in the pages between his letters you’ve collected over the years in an enchantment pouch, acquiring them from Seungmin in exchange for photographs of you he would pass on to Hyunjin later on. 

Along with the other photographs you would collect of Hyunjin and your other family and friends, these particular photos now line up almost all walls of your apartment in Seoul. 

Hyunjin, on the other hand, though you’ve never confronted him about it, keeps your photos in his wallets and at the back of his clear phone case. Every time someone from the art gallery where he works in would ask him about it, he would always say that he DIY-ed them with his grandparents’ film and a coffee staining technique he got from YouTube. 

six-hundred forty-eight

Your mother willfully passed away in 1967 by ingesting a concoction of poisonous herbs you reluctantly helped her make. She was 2,022 years old and surrounded by all of her daughters in her deathbed on that fateful Sunday morning—some of whom you’ve only met when you came to live with your mother again. Your relatives then came a week later for another 50 years of mourning and, as one of the elder daughters, you were tasked in helping cater to everyone in the time that you had to be secluded from the world in old rituals and traditions; thus, halting yet another plan of reuniting with Hyunjin. 

It impacted you greater this time, not only because your mother was the one who passed away but also because you’ve already planned on returning permanently to Korea and reunite with Hyunjin this time. After six hundred years, you’ve finally sorted out your feelings for your best friend and fifty more years of being apart suddenly felt too long with this. 

And, as if he had read your thoughts, Hyunjin visited you in your dreams on the night before you would enter into the fifty-year mourning period. Having gained more experience in honing this gift of his by this time, he somehow managed to fashion your dreams into happening against the backdrop of the familiar 1300s Korean landscape. 

You dreamt of approaching Hyunjin at a flower stall in front of a marketplace akin to when you actually first met. Instead of having his back turned to you to pick on the carnations, however, he was waving at you with his arms outstretched for a hug, hanbok and everything. 

“How did you do all this?” You asked in disbelief as you hugged him back, taking in all the detailed scenery from his shoulder. You knew that, in the real world, he was back in Korea by this time and helping Seungmin set up his own film company, easily giving away the dream nature of your meeting. Still, you touched all of the flowers and the fabric of his favorite red hanbok anyway, marveling at how his gift has grown since the last and only other time you experienced it. 

“Lots of practice.” He shrugged with a proud grin, reluctantly letting you go after to take a good look at you. “I didn’t do anything weird to practice though, I mostly just terrorized Jisung in his dreams.” 

You scoffed at him, hitting his chest playfully. Looking around again and even chuckling at how your dream was even filled with people, you then commented, “It’s beautiful.” 

“I thought you needed some cheering up after what happened with your mom.” He explained, picking up a handful of carnations from the stall. Passing them to you, you were quick to notice how he didn’t let go of your hand after, prompting you to encourage him by lacing your fingers together. “I’m so sorry again. I’m sorry I can’t be with you right now, too.” 

“It’s okay.” You assured him with a shake of your head, mustering up a smile. “Just reading your e-mails and receiving your photos were already comforting for me.” 

"I can hop on a plane right now, if you need me.” He offers only to receive more assurance from you otherwise. “Are you sure?” 

You nodded, finally letting go of his hand after. “I’m sure just...let me dream with you right now.” You confirmed, earning you an understanding nod from him. Smiling at this, you then asked, “So, what do you have for me here?” 

Hyunjin then led you around your dream for the entire night, happily taking you to places you frequented when you were still children. You ran around the palace grounds, recounted village stories, ate popular foods of your time period, and laid in the grass of the palace gardens until you had to leave for an early start of your day when you suddenly felt someone shaking you awake from the physical world. 

Reluctantly, you parted ways at the marketplace at the end of your dream. 

“See you in 50 years?” He smiled sadly at you as you bid your goodbyes, awkwardly standing in front of you with his hands on his back. “Take care of yourself, okay?” 

You nodded with a hum, a stray tear suddenly finding its way down your cheek. “I’ll come home in 50 years, I promise.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes widened at this, his mouth hanging agape as he stuttered, “W-Wha—?” 

Before he could even coherently form his thoughts, however, you’ve already reached up to his cheek for a kiss before disappearing, leaving him alone in his own thoughts. 

Before you could enter isolation with the rest of your family in the morning that followed, you then made sure to e-mail Chan and Seungmin instructions to arrange your flight back to Korea in 50 years, asking them to not tell Hyunjin towards the end of your long message. 

six hundred ninety-eight

You returned to Korea on February 18, 2017 just as Chan and Seungmin have arranged for you, moving into one of Minho’s old apartment buildings where you still live at present. Following their further instructions, you then spent a whole month visiting all of your friends in their respective homes all around Korea (even Jeongin whom you met right under Hyunjin’s nose by visiting him in their home while his roommate was away for work) with your money you’ve entrusted Changbin to manage for you until you returned. You made sure to meet Hyunjin last, timing your reunion right on his 719th birthday. 

Your closer group of friends threw him a surprise party in Gangnam on this year, renting an entire hotel building for yourselves and your other friends from all around the world. When you met Hyunjin that night, you had helped Felix bake and deliver his seven-tiered birthday cake for him, casting a spell on the candles so that they would explode in colorful fireworks and dust sprinkles all over the red velvet cake before they eventually fade. You eventually made your presence known to him when Jisung and Minho turned off the lights to the halls as he made a wish, standing next to him when he opened his eyes. 

“Happy birthday!” You greeted him with a sheepish smile, laughing nervously when he jumped back in surprise. 

Hyunjin, however, quickly recovered from his initial shock and lifted you up the ground easily, moving the two of you away from the cake so he could spin you around twice in a hug. “You’re here!” He exclaimed happily to your shoulders before putting you down, hugging you even tighter now that you’re stationary. “You came!” 

“I’ve actually been here for a month.” You confessed bluntly, hugging him back by his shoulders. Your friends all cooed and gushed around you, eliciting heat to rise up your neck again (especially when Seungmin took out his camera to take photos) but Hyunjin only moves you away from everyone, still hugging you close. “I, uh, I moved in Minho’s old penthouse and everything. I’m staying this time.” 

At your last revelation, only then did Hyunjin pulled away from you, his hands moving down to your elbows as his eyes widened in disbelief. “R-Really? You’re staying this time?” 

“Permanently.” You answered with a smile, chuckling when he releases a relieved sigh and turns to everyone, happily telling them of your plans to stay. “I told you I was coming home.” 

“That was what you meant?” He repeated, earning him a nod from you. With that, he then hugged you again. “I’m glad...finally.” 

You then spent the rest of the night catching up with everyone at the party but most especially the birthday celebrant himself whom you couldn’t seem to get off of your side throughout most of the night. You ate, drank, sang, and danced with until early morning, until Hyunjin pulled you away from the naturally dying festivities to watch the sunrise with him at the rooftop. 

“I wondered why you’ve rarely replied to my messages on social media lately.” He frowned at you once you’ve reached the rooftop, settling on a random bench with the perfect view of the rising sun. “You could’ve told me you already arrived! I wanted to show you the gallery I’m working in these days!” 

“I’m still getting used to social media!” You defended yourself with a chuckle, pinching his cheeks and pulling them up to a smile which immediately makes Hyunjin laugh. “And I wanted to surprise you! I planned it with Chan and Seungmin 50 years ago—actually, even way back with Seungmin when we met in the 30s.” 

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at you with this. “Hm? You did?”

“You remember when Seungmin and I met in Thailand in the 30s?” You asked, Hyunjin nodding along in response. “Before we exchanged our photos, he sort of talked me into it. I figured that I was getting tired of travelling for a really long time and he assured me that I can come home when I want to...that I can come home to you and everyone else...” 

Next to you, Hyunjin smiled as you spoke, the side of his face glowing faintly in the oranges and pinks of the early sunlight as he sat with his body turned completely to you. When you trail off with your words, he then muses, “Yeah, you can always come home to me...I missed you so much.” 

“You always say that whenever we reunite.” You point out without any hint of malice in your tone, pulling your legs up to the bench and pressing them close to your chest. 

“Don’t you miss me too?” He frowned teasingly, poking you on your sides. 

“Of course, I missed you too. I missed you everyday when we’re apart.” You assured, shrugging. “It’s just...” 

When you turn to Hyunjin, your eyes widened when you realized that he has leaned in closer to you, pressing his forehead to yours when you finally meet his gaze again. “Can I confess something?” 

Speechless, you could only muster a weak nod then. 

“I’ve always missed you, even from when you first left me when we were younger because I’ve loved you even then.” He whispered just inches away from your lips. “I’ve loved you and waited for you for almost seven hundred years.”

You thought he’d kiss you after his declaration but he only looked up at you in anticipation after, as if he was expecting you to say something. Caught off-guard, you let a brief pause pass by first before replying, “I-If you’ve always had, then why did you let me go each time?” 

“Because you’ve always been a traveler.” He answered, slowly closing his eyes and leaning in again. At this point, it felt as if he was only waiting on you to lean in on your own accord, the realization knocking out the air in your lungs. “And I’ve always hoped that you’d come back to me forever when you wanted to, if you wanted to—and now here we are.” 

“Here we are.” You repeated slowly, finally closing the small gap between the two of you with your hands going up to his hair. 

Unlike when Hyunjin first kissed you centuries before when you were still unsure of your feelings, this particular kiss was slow and almost feathery against your lips but somehow it also felt similarly urgent and heavy, bearing all of your hidden emotions of seven hundred years. Hyunjin only deepened the kiss when you whispered ‘I love you’ to him when you first pulled away to catch your breath, smiling uncontrollably when you kissed him again. 

“I love you too.” He replies when you have to catch your breath again, pulling away completely this time so he can gaze down at you fondly with his hand on your cheek never leaving your side to pat your head affectionately. “Always.” 

Hyunjin didn’t ask you to be his significant other afterward, not even when he took you home, but you both agree that there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that day, especially when he didn’t leave immediately after dropping you off, preferring instead to trap you in between himself and the back of your front door while peppering kisses all over your face.  

“Still not cool, though.” Jisung teases every now and then at present, making Hyunjin roll his eyes every time. “You could’ve at least been a little more romantic with a confession or something! You’re from the 1300s, for crying out loud! Didn’t you guys court people and stuff?!” 

“But we’re in 2020 now.” Hyunjin has resorted to replying to this lately, even doing as much as chucking something at the younger boy (often Seungmin’s baseball bat for some reason). “Anyway, I’ve known Y/N for 700 years. It’d be even more uncool when you say you’ve pined over each other for 700 years and have only been dating for a year.” 

“Yeah so better start now than never, ri—ow, Y/N! I’m trying to defend you and you hit me with a pan?!” 

Without anyone knowing, however, Hyunjin did formally asked you to be his significant other when the summer came, sending you all of your letters for him by the traditional post. The delivery man looked at you weirdly when he arrived at your doorstep, there were seven boxes full of old all kinds of envelopes and bundles of papers after all, but you only smiled sheepishly at him and tipped him extra. 

���Ya, why did you send me all of your letters?” You feigned complaint at Hyunjin once he arrived at your place and successfully helped you getting all the boxes in your living room. “The shipping company probably thinks I’m stealing museum artifacts right under their noses or something.” 

“I thought it’d be cute to do send it traditionally!” He pouted before pulling you down on your sofa next to him and opening the first box. “I didn’t even know it was gonna arrive today!” 

“What are we doing with all these anyway?” You asked, carefully picking up a random envelope. “You know some of these could break from the air, it doesn’t take a Chemist or a Curator to know that.” 

“Ah, yes, but I did got these scanned on a hard drive in case they do break! We have to keep up with the times, Y/N! I’m going to have to scan yours one of these days.” Hyunjin grinned proudly as he swiftly swapped your envelope for the chronologically correct one. “Now, we’re going to look through these letters in the right order!” 

As it turns out, Hyunjin had hidden his original unsent letters in between the letters you gave him, reading them aloud to you and using them to ask you to be his significant other. “We could’ve been dating ages ago!” He commented playfully in between the more intimate ones, giggling when you frowned or tear up in response. “Ah, Y/N, don’t cry please! Shh, it’s okay, baby, I’m reading these to you just how much I love you, okay? Don’t cry...”  

“T-That’s exactly why I’m c-crying!” 

“So, does that mean, you’re, you know, you’re saying—”

“You didn’t even have to go through all this trouble!” 

Hyunjin still teases you for crying then, mostly because he feels proud that you think he outdid Changbin’s lavish proposal to his fiancé in the Maldives with this gesture.    

seven hundred one

Though most of Hyunjin’s family of vampires have had and/or currently have their own history of relationships, Changbin is the first of Hyunjin’s coven who announced plans of getting married. His fiancé, Haseul, insisted; something about having waited 900 years because they weren’t ‘as lucky as some people.’ 

You know she’s subtly hinting at you, even going as far as winking at you from across the room when she repeated the words at rehearsal dinner earlier this evening, but you only rolled your eyes at her playfully, dismissing the thought. 

“Why did you even sleep for 900 years? I still don’t understand.” You asked her after once you’ve gotten her alone, sharing a bottle of champagne on the side of the dance floor while giggling at Jeongin and his date trying to out-fluster each other on the dance floor. The DJ Chan hired has long shifted the songs from lively EDM tracks to slower love songs so, with everyone assuming that her and Changbin are busy dancing together, no one would bother the two of you for a while. 

Haseul only shook her head as she chugged down champagne straight from the bottle, making you wonder if older vampires really just act as casual as she and Changbin do by default. “It’s really complicated stuff, the practice probably died down when you were born.” She waved her hands frantically in front of you, pretending to stumble after and laughing when you don’t fall for it. You’ve had enough experience living with the boys to know that vampires don’t get drunk with alcohol. “Anyway, that’s not the point! Point is, don’t wait for a sorcerer to curse you with ancient blood magic and make you sleep for 900 years before you decide on taking a big leap in a relationship like getting married! Do it now, especially now while wedding fashion still looks cute!” 

You only pouted at her, taking the bottle from her hands and refilling your glass. “You know how I feel about weddings.” You pointed out in a smaller voice, effectively turning her teasing smile into a serious thin line. “And it’s not like we actually need weddings. It’s just an old ceremony that doesn’t even hold up much for us since we’ll be spending the rest of forever with each other, anyway.” 

“Yeah, but...you know...” Haseul opened her mouth to counter your argument before pursing her lips at seeing your now downcast expression. “...Sorry, I...that was insensitive of me.” 

You glanced over at her for a moment, furrowing your eyebrows before mustering up a reassuring smile and a shake of your head. “I—no, it’s fine. It’s just—I respect weddings for people who want them...I think I might even want them for myself if things from the past didn’t turn out the way they did. Because of that, I don’t think I’ll be in one myself...maybe if Hyunjin wants to but I don’t know how he feels about marriage or how he feels with how I feel about it...does that make sense?” 

Haseul really wanted to tell you right there and then that Hyunjin personally asked her to ask you about it in exchange for him to tone down his groomsman’s speech at the wedding next week. Instead, she only slung a comforting arm over your shoulder. “I get what you mean. I wasn’t sure about how to bring up marriage to Changbin at first, too—being in a relationship even when I woke up a century ago.” She comforted you with a lighthearted chuckle towards the end, rubbing small circles on your shoulder blades. “But whatever you and Hyunjin decide to do together, I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.” 

But still, the thought lingered at the back of your mind for the rest of the night, especially when Hyunjin asked you to dance later on. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asked you curiously once you’re facing him again after twirling you once. “You know you’ve had that same thinking look since you and Haseul started drinking champagne. What’s wrong?” 

You looked up at him from your daze, eyes widening momentarily as you processed his words. When you regain composure, you shake your head and answer, “N-Nothing, I’m just, a bit sleepy.” 

Hyunjin frowned slightly, slowing your movements. “Must be the punch, I knew we shouldn’t have let Felix put in that weird blood mix on it.” 

“There’s blood on the punch?” 

“Type AB, I think—”

“—What? Gross!” You scrunched up your nose in disgust, making Hyunjin laugh. 

“I was just kidding, at least now you’re awake!” He pointed out in between laughter before going back to being serious. “But seriously, what’s wrong?” 

You took a moment to respond, eventually settling for a sigh. “Haseul just talked to me about marriage...” 

“Oh.” Hyunjin mused out loud and you’re quick to observe the way his expression falters ever so slightly, as if expecting the worse out of your next words. “What did she say?” 

“She just told me again how marriage and other ‘big leaps in relationships’ need to be timed correctly or something.” You answered, pursing your lips in between. “So I told her that yeah, I agree, but I don’t know how I feel about it on a personal level.” 

Hyunjin’s gaze then softened from the corner of your eyes. “Is it because of what happened before?” He asked carefully, tucking the loose strands of your hair behind your ear. 

“A bit, yeah.” You nodded. “But if you’re—i-if you think otherwise, if you want to get married or something, then I’ll be okay.” 

“I’m only following you, Y/N.” He reminded you, halting the two of you from dancing altogether as he becomes much more sincere with his words. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll follow.” 

You smiled up at him appreciatively, lacing your fingers with his in between the two of you. “I was hoping it’d be the other way around, you know how indesicive I could be sometimes.” 

“But do you want to get married?” He asked nervously after, slowly inching the two of you away from the dance floor now and into a quieter area on the sides of the hall. “Or...anything of the sort?” 

“Maybe...I don’t know...” You frowned, more to yourself in frustration. 

But Hyunjin only nodded in understanding, patting your head before pressing a kiss to your temple affectionately. “It’s okay, I understand. Don’t beat yourself too much over it, okay?” 

- 

Now, a week later, while you and Hyunjin were spending the Saturday afternoon in his bed, he suddenly pulls you on top of him so you’re laying on top of his chest, taking out a single blue chrysanthemum from his bedside table. “I bought this last week and asked Jeongin’s new friend to preserve it with an enchantment.” He hurriedly explains before you could even scold him for suffocating a flower inside the drawers of his bedside table. “Hear me out first.” 

“What’s this for all of sudden?” You ask curiously, taking the flower and picking on the petals as Hyunjin then lifts you up with him while sitting up straight, moving you to straddle his lap. 

“I’ve just been thinking...mostly about what Haseul said.” He explains, his hand then moving over to something else in his bedside drawer. “...and, of course, she has a point, I’d take someone’s word for it especially if they’ve been asleep for a huge chunk of the years humans have been on Earth but I also know that we’re a little different from her and Changbin because of what happened in the past.” 

You’re immediately rendered speechless from the very start of his speech, even more when he finally finds the velvet box in his bedside drawer. Opening it in between the two of you, you wanted to laugh at the way an extra copy of the keys to his new apartment peeks out from the cushions supporting the main purpose of the box, a ring with a simple round cut diamond and two sapphires, but you end up crying first before chuckling, easing Hyunjin’s own nerves. 

“Is the key really that visible? I thought I hid that pretty well when Changbin and I picked this up.” Hyunjin pouts, briefly turning the box in his direction to examine it properly and take the key out before directing it to you once again with a chuckle. “Anyway, as I was saying, marriage is cool and all but it’s not like one of us is being chased by a psycho sorcerer like Haseul so we can definitely take our time if we eventually want to.” 

“But still, a little reassurance wouldn’t hurt so...will you move in with me?—or just wear the ring, come over more often, and maybe tell me you love me more than you usually do; that’s also fine.” 

You hit him on his shoulder with a laugh, making him lean his head back in laughter too at his own silliness. “You really aren’t that romantic when it actually comes down to it, Jisung was sort of right.” You muse out loud, taking out the key from the cushions. 

“Ya!” He protests, taking your hand anyway and sliding the ring on your finger. “If it was still the 1300s, I would’ve had to ask people’s approval, carved ducks, and everything and it would’ve taken forever! It’s been 700 years so cut me some slack here!”    

Still, no matter how much you laugh after, you say yes anyway but not without making him promise that he’ll re-do his ‘proposal’ again so Jisung would stop roasting him about it. 

“I will, I will,” He assures dismissively, pulling you in for a kiss. “when you’re actually ready to marry...or say cheesy vows in front of everyone, whichever you prefer.” 

“That’s going to take 700 more years.” You joke against his lips with a giggle, making him scrunch up his nose in disapproval. 

“Fine, I guess I can wait a little more.” 

[rpmemesbyarat]

Hello Tumblr people. I’m 31 years old and I’ve been on Tumblr since 2014. That’s not really old, and that’s not really a long time, but I know it’s older and longer than a lot of other folks. Tumblr is a space mainly populated by teens and twenties, and I know when I was in that age group, I thought 31 was a Real Adult (TM) Which, shit, it’s not, it’s really not, especially not for me, but nonetheless, I have learned some things in my time that I wish I could impart to my younger self, and instead will impart to y’all. Take what you like and what works for you and leave the rest, I’m no expert or guru or authority on anything, I’m just trying to be helpful. Being nice costs nothing. I once was standoffish to someone who came and chatted to me in IMs. That guy later died. True story. I feel terrible about it to this day. I was wary and kind of snotty in those days and I regret that. It’s one thing to be careful about strangers approaching but that wasn’t what I did here. It costs nothing to be nice. It costs nothing to be friendly. To do stuff like show interest in others, care about what they have to say, comment when they share things about their day. These are tiny things that cost nothing but give so much. Don’t pass the opportunity by. And definitely don’t snub someone for no reason. If you don’t want to interact, you don’t have to, but don’t be cold about it unless it’s legitimately because you’re uncomfy with this person and want them to go away. Your safety and comfort do come before any obligation to be nice, but I hope it’s clear that’s not what I’m talking about here. Be a candle that lights other candles. You know what else costs nothing? Encouragement. There’s nothing stopping you from telling others what you like about their content, what they post, what they create, what thoughts they have, the things they say, or just how passionate they are about something. There’s nothing stopping you from saying you hope the best for someone going through a rough time, or how cute their pets are, or how you’re glad they got themselves a treat today. You don’t need to be someone’s therapist ---I know I sure don’t have the emotional energy for that--or have solutions for them, you don’t need to force yourself to say anything insincere or that you don’t have the spoons for, but when you can, say something positive to others. First impressions can be wrong but gut feelings are often right. Like I said, being nice should NEVER trump your own comfort or safety. If you get weird vibes from someone, book it. Sure, you could be wrong. I’ve been wrong about a lot of people. I’ve also been right about others, and should have left when I had the chance before they could prove to me how right I was. Technically, there was nothing stopping me. It was online, after all. I could have just vanished and they’d probably never have tracked me down or made contact again. But I was lonely, and socially awkward, and like many people, most of my human contact was online, and I thought that this was worth it. It’s not. Whatever kind of friendship or therapeutic RP or free art or support or compliments or advice you’re getting from someone online. . . it’s not worth it if they’re mean or creepy too. Whatever you are getting, you can find it somewhere else, in someone else, who won’t make you have to put up with that kind of crap for it. If something feels wrong, don’t wait around for it to get worse. Yes, you may be incorrectly judging a situation and running from nothing, but it’s better you run from nothing than NOT run from SOMETHING. And I know that things like anxiety disorders, trauma, and just different communication styles can make it hard to judge these things (I’ve thought people didn’t like me before just because they were far less effusive in their typing style than I am, and I was wrong) but if you really feel uncomfortable, like this person has said mean or sexual things to you, it’s not just the brain weasels telling you lies. If you’re truly in doubt, get another person’s opinion, but also don’t let them convince you “it’s nothing” if it feels like something. Trust yourself. Creeps, like children, will test your boundaries. Kids will do shit just to see what they can get away and how far they can push you before you put your foot down. Creeps are the same. They’ll start with stuff that you can easily ignore, brush off, and put up with without feeling it’s worth ditching the whole friendship over. But they’ll rarely let it stay there. They’ll typically escalate it if they’re not rebuked. Rebuke them. It can be scary. It can be hard. I know this. I know it firsthand. But feel no sympathy. Feel no fear. Tell them off and pack your bags. They want to know how much you’ll put up with? Show them----nothing at all, that’s what. Don’t be afraid to change your views but don’t feel the need to broadcast it. I’m never getting a personal Tumblr. Because I’m glad they weren’t around when I was a teen. I would have posted things I don’t believe now. Same for when I’m in my 20s. And I bet that will the be the case in my 40s, 50s, and 60s too. Our lives are journeys of changing, learning, and unlearning. And that’s great. But if you post every step of your journey for the world to see, there are those who will use it against you, even if it was stuff from years ago that you should be applauded for growing from, not derided for having ever believed in. Not to mention that what’s the most up-to-date woke terminology and politics changes very rapidly, and what was acceptable when I was a teen is not the preferred lingo now, and it’s likely going to keep changing, and there will be people who find your posts and don’t care about that either. I realize Tumblr gives us a format to metaphorically scream our present beliefs and show how right what you believe is, and the urge to reblog when you see something you agree with wholeheartedly is strong. And if you’ve got a blog that doesn’t easily connect back with you, or you don’t plan to have for the next five years, or whatever, go ahead. But if your blog can be easily connected to you, and therefore could be connected to you again in the future, it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit judicious. I’m not saying “don’t take a stand on anything ever because you might change your mind and/or someone might drag you”, I am saying that in the age of cancel culture and people deep digging for ancient receipts, young people are no longer getting to have their journeys, with all their rooms for fuckups and re-thinkings, that I and those before me got to have, and I think that sucks. By all means, take a stand on what you believe in now, fight for it with all your heart, just also don’t make it too easy for other people to use it against you should you ever change your mind---and don’t be afraid to change your mind either, even when it’s against the grain of what’s presently popular opinion. Find things out for yourself when possible You know how when they taught you things in school about history and America and whatnot and now you’ve found out that there’s so much they DIDN’T tell you, and at least half of what they did is a very edited sack of hooey? Well, the same is true of Tumblr, Facebook, and other online spaces as well as real life. We all laugh at our Boomer parents and grandparents who share clearly false stories on Facebook because they can’t tell that it was clearly crafted to incite their anger or endorsement based on how it’s tailored to validate their beliefs, but I see the same thing happen here. Loads of tale gets touted as “true” on Tumblr because they have been made to appeal to us emotionally by validating our beliefs. But just because our beliefs may be good or progressive or what have you, does not mean that everything that appeals to them is going to be true. When you see a post circulating that claims something really cool about history or such is true, I suggest fact-checking it. This will help halt the spread of misinformation---even if it’s harmless---and help you build your critical thinking and research skills. This does not mean “you must change your views” it means “be skeptical even when something validates your views” People on our own side can lie, and that’s not harmless even if it seems so---contributing to a culture of misinformation is NOT harmless, and we’re less likely to be skeptical of claims that validate what we already believe. Don’t fall for this. That’s all. I hope something in here was valuable to you. If not, thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day!

[brian-in-finance]

Interview: MPB meets ‘Belfast’ stills photographer Rob Youngson

Written and directed by Kenneth Branagh, Belfast features stars including Dame Judi Dench and Jamie Dornan. We caught up with Rob Youngson @rob_youngson_photography, who worked as the unit stills photographer for the multi Oscar-nominated film, including best picture. In this interview, Rob tells us about his on-set experience and shares his advice for aspiring film still photographers. Over you to, Rob.

MPB: Could you tell us more about yourself and your creative background?

RY: I found photography as a teenager. I was hooked the moment I realised that a photo pass meant getting into gigs for free. University followed, where I studied lighting design for theatre. Modules covered art history, colour theory and how light can help tell stories. Useful stuff for a future photographer.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

I realise now, how privileged I was to grow up in a home where my curiosity was encouraged. And a home that had cameras for me to pick up and use. I started on digital, I think it was a 1-megapixel Pentax. My photography practice took its biggest leap forward when I learned how to shoot on film in my early twenties. I went freelance as a unit stills photographer over five years ago. Before that, I worked in camera rentals. The job entailed cleaning filters and lenses, formatting cards and loading vans. It was like finishing school for being in the film industry. I learnt the kit, met great cinematographers and managed to get on set. I used my leave to work on short films and build my portfolio.

MPB: What advice would you have for aspiring film stills photographers? What makes a great film stills photographer?

RY: There are so many great stills photographers that I look up to. People such as Niko Tavernise @nikotavernise or Kimberley French @kimberleyfrench. They consistently take images that convey both emotion and story. These images almost always have a clear point of tension, be it between two actors or between the actor and their surroundings.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

For aspiring film stills photographers, know that there’s not one route into this career. That's a strength. Every photographer has a different story. Don’t read about my journey, and think that because your starting place is different, it isn’t an achievable goal. It can be. To do well in this job, you have to be able to read the mood in the room, to read people and leave your ego at the door. Film sets are time-pressured. Hundreds of people are working long hours to make everything work. Sometimes that means the photographer’s job is to know when to step back and give the crew and actors space. You should try to have the technical skills of photography down to second nature. That way, you can focus your energy on everything else.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

My main piece of advice is to treat every job you do as though it’s your dream job, however small it seems. Arrive early, with charged batteries, formatted memory cards and waterproofs and then enjoy yourself! There’ll be hard days, but every so often I take a step back and realise I’m part of something bigger. Creating something that may move people that I will never meet. Be amazed by that fact, because it is amazing.

MPB: Could you give us an insight into the day in the life of a film stills photographer? Is it as glamorous as it looks?

RY: Glamour isn't the first word that comes to mind! British filmmaking is more likely to find me on a night shoot, up to my knees in mud, in the Essex estuary for eight hours at -5°C [23°F] . There are rare occasions when I end up in a hot country, being served brilliant local food, working with fantastic actors surrounded by gorgeous scenery—those days feel a little more glamorous. A few summers ago, in the UK, we had a scorching day whilst filming Blithe Spirit. The shoot was out on a river, and the crew all jumped in at lunch for a swim. Catering set up on the riverbank and served us a BBQ, that was pretty special—not glamorous per se, but memorable.

A typical day might start with an 08:00 call time. But it could be 05:00 or 21:00, depending on the day. Say it’s 08:00, I’d arrive at where we are filming at 07:15, park, grab some breakfast from catering and find a spot for my kit to safely live. Peli Cases are a must for me! I’ll introduce myself to the 1st AD, the boom operators and the 1st AC, among other key people I need to work with. I'll get my bearings on set, and the day begins. Actors rehearse with the director, 1st AD, cinematographer and script supervisor. Then there is a ‘crew show’, we get to see the action for that scene. Lighting and all the other departments get to work.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

During takes, I’ll place myself out of the actor's eye-lines, and out of the camera's line of sight. Sometimes, there’ll be three or more cameras shooting at once, which doesn't leave much choice as to where to go and may dictate much of the composition. I’ll shoot between takes as well. Photographing the sets, props and other details.

My day on set will finish around 19:30–19:00, and then I’ll get home or to where I’m staying and backup the images. On average, I’ll shoot between 400–600 images on a normal day, and 600+ on a day with stunts. I usually deliver between 150–250 images per day to publicity. I’ll straighten the horizon on images if necessary. Then I’ll pick my favourite 10–12 images to colour-grade properly and add those to a highlights folder.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

RY: On the set of Belfast, my kitbag consisted of a Nikon Z7 and Nikon Z6, four 128GB XQD cards and Sony reader, ten spare batteries, plus two Nikon chargers, 70-200mm f/2.8 S lens, 24-70mm f/2.8 F Mount with FTZ Adaptor, Sigma Art 24mm f/1.4 with FTZ Adaptor, Nikon 85mm f/1.4 G lens, Leica 50mm f/2 Summicron with Z-mount adaptor (Non Apo), Hasselblad XPAN, Nikon FE2 with 50mm f/2.8, Nikon FM II with 28mm f/2.8, Gitzo Systematic Tripod, Spiderholster Twin system on a Panavision quick-release belt, NexttoDI NPS-10 Field Backup Drive, Peli Case Air 1535 and a Billingham 555.

The main quality an on-set camera needs is a silent shutter. A few years ago, before mirrorless cameras, I had to shoot with my DSLRs inside a foam and plastic case called a blimp to block out the sound of the shutter. I made my first blimp out of a small Peli Case, some foam and a remote shutter release. These were awkward and heavy. Having a silent shutter on mirrorless cameras makes life a lot easier. Banding and rolling shutter have been a problem until recently. The advent of the Nikon Z9 and the top tier Sony mirrorless cameras has pretty much solved both problems. Using a camera for 10+ hours a day, ergonomics are critical. That’s one of the reasons I favour Nikon over Sony, the big grip, good buttons and a familiar menu system all appeal to me.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

MPB: Take us behind the scenes on the shoot—how long was the shoot? Where was it filmed? The film deals with a sensitive time in Northern Ireland’s history but in a beautifully uplifting way, did that have an effect on the mood on the set?

RY: The shoot was six weeks, in total. That’s short, a full-length feature is usually anything from 3–6+ months. A small film unit went to Belfast for a week of shooting exteriors. The rest of the film, all the acting, was filmed in Farnborough. Production designer Jim Clay led his team in a herculean effort to build beautiful sets, including a full-sized Belfast street.

Kenneth Branagh wrote the film during the first lockdown. He has spoken about how the feeling of life turning upside that we all experienced in the first lockdown threw him back to what he felt as a nine-year-old boy when he first experienced violence in Belfast. There were moments that were difficult to watch. Certain scenes left the crew reeling and needing a moment. But those scenes were interspersed with scenes that show the Belfast sense of humour. A wit and levity that has come to define the place and the people.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

I felt a responsibility to do the best work possible, to do justice to the real people we were representing. I took great inspiration from the Magnum photographer Phillip Jones Griffiths. His work in Northern Ireland helped highlight the absurdity of normal life continuing under a strong military presence. One well-publicised image of Phillip’s shows a woman mowing the front lawn, while a soldier lies in wait in the same garden. During filming, I was able to capture a couple of images I felt paid homage to his work. In one, I lined myself up to photograph a tank coming down the street, but through a child’s pram. A second was capturing the moment the soldiers in the street helped the family move a sofa into the house.

The first day on set was jubilant, most of us hadn’t worked since lockdown. We were PCR tested every day, wore masks and visors, hand-washing stations, one way systems, temperature checks. There were big smiles behind the masks. Most of the team had worked together on previous films, so it was lovely to come together again. There was still a sense of focus and seriousness. We all had to be vigilant about Covid to see this film through to completion, and we all had to pull off our best work. That atmosphere pushed me to create work I was proud of.

MPB: You’ve worked for some iconic clients, including Netflix, Fox and Disney. What projects were these? What advice would you have for getting noticed by such iconic brands?

RY: For Netflix, there is a new series coming out this spring called Heartstopper. Based on the graphic novels by Alice Oseman, Heartstopper tells the story of two boys who meet at a British grammar school and develop feelings for each other. What follows is a beautiful and thoughtful story of love, life, and friendship. For Fox, I shot stills for Death On The Nile, released in cinemas in the UK on February the 11th. As the sequel to Murder on The Orient Express, it sees the return of Kenneth Branagh as Detective Hercule Point.

To be honest, the films I love working on the most are those with the best scripts, best casts and the loveliest crews. That might be for one of the big players, or it might be for a more indie company.

One of my favourite shows to work on last year was the UK adaptation of Call My Agent. That will be coming to your screens later in 2022.

My advice is to treat every job as though it’s important. Work on stories you believe in or with people you enjoy working with and persist. If you do that, and your work is good, then those brands will start to take notice.

People are leaving film school right now with stories to tell but without big budgets. In a few years’ time, some of those people will be Oscar-nominated and making films for these big brands. Go and meet your people, talk about film, art, life, experience everything you can. Try not to see a freelance career as though it’s a ladder, there isn’t usually a linear progression. In my experience, what can at first seem a setback often opens out into an opportunity.

MPB: Your work is split between capturing shots to be used as promotional material and behind the scenes shots, is there a type you prefer and why?

RY: Interesting question—behind-the-scenes shots only make up 5–10% of what I shoot in a day. I love capturing unique images from behind-the-scenes; incredible sets or one-off prosthetics. Growing up, I watched the behind-the-scenes featurettes of The Lord of the Rings constantly. That first switched me on to the world behind the camera. I know that capturing the hard work of people behind the camera holds a certain fascination for many of us. In general, though, it’s the interaction between actors in a scene that tells the most compelling story as to why someone should go and see a film.

Rob Youngson/Focus Features

MPB: Belfast features some royalty of British cinema, including Jamie Dorran and Judi Dench, and is directed by Kenneth Branagh. What is it like to work with stars like these? Did you ever find it intimidating?

RY: An important part of my job is to not get starstruck. Or, at least, not change how I behave around people based on preconceptions of their celebrity. I'm privileged to work with these people, I have massive respect for their work. I’ve been lucky enough to work with Judi Dench several times now. Judi has a fervent wit and an effervescence, she is unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. The first time I worked with Judi, I thought “this is it, my career peaks here, I can’t beat this moment”. I found out, through good luck, that the only way to top that was to work with her again and again. Executing the images, I apply the same pressure to myself whoever is in front of the camera. It's important to respect the vulnerability that an actor has to go through to perform a scene. Watching Ken direct is a masterclass every single day. One of the greatest things about my job is being an observer. I love to see the ways in which different directors get the best from those around them. On Belfast, Ken worked with his long-term collaborator, cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos. They communicate with an effective shorthand that's built out of trust. They are also both very well researched before arriving to set. I hope I get to work with them again because there's still so much I have to learn.

MPB: With the vast majority of the film being in black-and-white, it has meant your work has followed the same style. Are you pleased with the outcome?

RY: I wish I could shoot in black-and-white more often! I love it. I shot rolls of Ilford FP4 and HP5 during the first week. I took scans of those images as references to create a series of presets/styles within capture one and within Nik Efex Silver Efex Pro 4. Likewise, I created a custom black and white preset in the Nikon Z6 and Z7 so that I could compose in the digital viewfinder in black and white—another win for mirrorless! I would drop in to the DIT on set to see screen-grabs from the film. I’d be noting whether the shadows were going all the way to black, or whether the greys were more silver or flatter.

I shot everything in RAW, and I did a colour edit of all the images as well. The costumes and hair and makeup by Charlotte Walter charlottewaltercostume.com and Wakana Yoshihara @wakana_yoshihara were incredible. The colours and textures translated beautifully to black-and-white. Though I hope that some more of the colour images might one day get released. If I did another project with a lot of black-and-white, then I’d consider hiring a Leica M Monochrom to see where that would take my work because I love rangefinders.

MPB: Working on a project this size means your work gets huge exposure, any film nominated for an Oscar becomes one of the most talked-about films of the year—what does it feel like to see your work on billboards or the side of buses?

RY: It’s remarkable. I always get a buzz from friends and family sending me pictures of themselves showing where in the world they are seeing my work. It’s special, knowing that for many people their first moment interacting with the story of Belfast, or any other project, is my work. That means I’ve done justice to the script and the film in helping bring an audience to it. Seeing a billboard or a magazine cover always reminds me how incredible the marketing teams are. The graphic designers, who take my images and elevate them into something more, definitely don’t get enough praise.

MPB: What are your plans for the future?

RY: I plan to keep working on stories I love. Keep improving and keep a firm lid on my ‘gear acquisition syndrome’. More and more, I’m approached with questions about how to do what I do. I want to be able to give useful and clear insights—I don’t always have time to respond in detail whilst out on shoots though. That’s why I am planning to launch a YouTube channel and a Patreon this spring. I’ll be able to offer more insights, gear reviews from on the road, and more opportunities for Q&As.

Thanks, Rob. You can see more of Rob Youngson’s work on Instagram @rob_youngson_photography and at robyoungsonphotography.com. Or, read more interviews on the MPB blog.

Note: links to various names and to photographic equipment mentioned in this story ⬇️

https://www.mpb.com/en-uk/blog/article/12863/

Remember… I realise now, how privileged I was to grow up in a home where my curiosity was encouraged. And a home that had cameras for me to pick up and use. — Rob Youngson

[jett-dawson]

BELLA ARC

The Rule

the rule states that any student who takes pictures of student work at rainbow high well experience an immediate expulsion. why does this only apply to bella? why not violet or karma, or anyone else who has pulled out their phones to take photos of things on campus? sounds like double standards to me.

the rule is dumb. especially since the students LIVE and WOR at rainbow high 24/7. they have a right to their work. the rule is dumb and is definitely a form of symbolism. i have seen this theory go around the fandom before & i have even addressed this theory before. i will address it again. stay tuned in the next slides for more on that.

The Timeline

we all knew bella was gonna get kicked out. whether or not we wanted it to happen, it was heavily implied in episode one that someone in the runway group was going to get kicked out. bella was the odd one out. she’s not in the wave one lineup, she’s not a part of the actual rainbow, and she was (more or less) a surprise to us when first seeing teasers for episode one. after that, the series of events through the first episodes had absolutely nothing to do with bella’s expulsion. there was no lead up! it was very sudden and the rule was very new to us. never was this rule stated before.

while i hate that it was written like this, i think i may know a meaning. this is a kids show. we are consuming children’s media. there is absolutely nothing wrong with that & anyone of any age is free and welcome to enjoy kids cartoons. what we have to understand is that this media isn’t exactly targeted towards us. i’m sure MGA, the company, is aware of us older fans. they use social media for that matter. that is where you find older fans. so that is where they get direct feedback from us. anyway... this show is obviously targeted towards a younger audience. if they were to extend the plot line, younger kids may not catch onto a lot of stuff that us older fans would. that’s not necessarily bad, but it doesn’t seem to be what the writers want. they write with simplicity, while still keeping in mind of laying out specific things in the show for specific reasons. so this sequence of events was written for younger kids to understand. bella was written & planned to be kicked out from the very beginning. kids may not have known this. so they introduced a rule that was unheard of so they have a reason to kick out bella. do i agree with this method? no. absolutely not. do i think they could’ve done better in finding a way to kick bella out? yes. absolutely. but younger kids will look at this and see that Bella broke a rule. Bella got kicked out. simple as that.

Symbolism

there have been theories that have gone around the fandom on the symbolism behind bella’s arc. her character, removal, and replacement all seem to line up with a real life sequence of events. allow me to explain.

bella is definitely a reference to barbie. her shirt is a direct take on a barbie shirt we have seen before. her character/personality is almost a lot like barbie if you think of it. if you’re into dolls and you’re into the community, you will know that Barbie/Mattel is MGA’s main rival. they have been going at it for years. constantly trying to dominate each other. MGA has made it very clear that they do not like Mattel. the creator of rainbow high himself stated that he “respects” barbie but believes it is time for her to leave the shelves and retire. it’s time for something new, something fresh, something modern.

think of it in the rainbow high timeline. bella(barbie/mattel) is living in this world of rainbow high(mga). the creator of bratz created the bratz concept while technically working for mattel. it just so happened that he was on leave. he took the idea over to mga and they went with it. mattel got mad, claiming the work as their own.

the rule of rainbow high can be related to this. whatever work is made at rainbow high stays at rainbow high. if any third party gets involved then you are due to immediate expulsion. this just so happened to bella.

bella/barbie was working on something she wanted to take to an outside source. rainbow high said no. this is our work. bella/barbie took it outside anyway resulting in an expulsion. bella is pink. pink is not part of the initial lineup. she reached the end of her rainbow.

amaya comes in. amaya resembling all things rainbow high. amaya the main character. she is the embodiment of rainbow. her character revolves around everhthing this company has preached for rainbow high. she is new. she is fresh. she is modern. she replaced bella. (no, i do not blame amaya for any of this. amaya is a whole other story)

barbie is flopping. barbie is not doing well. mga wants to take barbie down. mga is dominating the toy isle. they have created many successful lines and will probably continue to do so for awhile. bella is barbie. amaya is mga. amaya took over. mga took over.

Bella Herself

now i do not blame bella one bit for going and doing what she did. yes, she broke a rule. whether or not the rule is stupid, she did it. and she got what she asked for.

but you have to keep in mind who she is. bella is a young girl, age 14/15. at that age... i, too, would’ve done just about anything to work with my idol. someone i admired so much has practically thrown out an opportunity that i’m positive i could win. i would most definitely go for it. and bella did. but the problem was taking a picture. bella is known to be impulsive. we can see this in several different episodes where she wanted to complete the tasks given to her and to help her friends complete theirs. even though jade did her very best to persuade bella not to do it, bella chose to. she consciously chose to. now what i think a lot of people haven’t realized is that bella literally pulled nearly 2 all nighters contemplating on what to do. the first night she stayed up thinking about the internship and making the set. the other night she spent running around the school with jade and taking the photo of the art. this poor girl must’ve been tired. she was conflicted. do you risk your dream school and everything that comes along with it for a summer internship? or do you wait for another opportunity that could possibly never come again? if bella were older and more matured, i’m sure she wouldn’t have done it. but she is young. and she has learned from this experience.

unfortunately... she was expelled on the spot without any warning. we still haven’t gotten any closure on who saw her sneak the picture. that’s very suspicious but then again... it’s probably just poor writing. but with what we can assume, they probably involved bella’s space & privacy to get that information. anyway. bella had no bad behaviour whatsoever prior to this situation. rainbow high is a hard school. they are very tough on their students. they gave bella no chances. she didn’t even have much time to process it, pack her things and properly say goodbye to her friends. it all happened so fast. she said it herself... “i cant believe this is happening” yeah me either

as for the teachers... yes. they are doing their jobs. i have seen this point being made several times and i agree! technically they are! but RH is lowkey a messed up school system. they pressure their students day in and day out to be the very best and do the very best. i get why, but it’s to the point these students are sleep deprived. staying up all night to do assignments and have escape rooms. having to start class five minutes after completing night assignments. so much to the point that jade’s response to the question “what will u so if u pass the runway project?” in Violet’s AMA was “SLEEP!” this school is messed up. working like a big company and claiming these poor students hard work as their own is mean. and these teachers support it by working at this school. they may be doing their job, but they’re allowing this poor situation by being a part of it. this can be related to REAL life in places like media and the music industry. i have little knowledge on it, but you can compare it to the situation with Taylor Swift and how she technically doesn’t own a bunch of the music that she made. i believe it has to do with legal matters, and if i remember correctly something she got involved with when she was only young. yeah. theres that thing again. getting involved when you are only young. same with bella. there’s a direct correlation and that’s where i believe that type of symbolism could potentially come in to play.

this opportunity that was given to bella was life changing. and it was a SUMMER internship. SUMMER. if RH operates anything like schools IRL, they’d have to give their students a summer break. why was it so major to them when bella could still work for.. i mean attend to rainbow high all year then take the summer of for the internship. something that rainbow high could’ve looked good for having!

again, if RH operates anything like an IRL school, schools often pay attention to their students and outside opportunities. opportunities that boost the students status. the better the students, the better the school. with this high-end, once in a lifetime opportunity, bella could’ve gotten it and not only done better for herself but better for rainbow high itself.

bella knows what she did. and i know she realizes the consequences, especially now. but this poor girl has suffered through so much. all for this drama to her exploited on a very popular & very exclusive drama channel.. the vi life. but no way in heck was any of that fair.

Amaya Raine

i don’t wanna dwell too much on this one since i haven’t really seen much drama about it lately and i’ve already said enough before. but amaya is definitely not to blame. she had absolutely nothing to do with bella’s expulsion as far as we know. i remember there being fan theories that she would be the one who had found a way to tattle on bella, securing her own spot at rainbow high. as far as we know, this is not true.

amaya had been wait listed for her dream school. it’s lucky but kind of underwhelming. so the moment she got the call that she finally had a spot in RH, she was beyond excited, not knowing what was ahead of her. oh, yeah, btw, not gonna ignore the fact that they secure a spot for amaya THE SAME NIGHT bella took a photo of the artwork, not knowing she was gonna be caught and then expelled. in her mind, she was positive she wasn’t caught and wasn’t gonna get in trouble. it’s the fact the staff was very prepared for this all under 24hrs.

anyway. amaya was already hella nervous. she seems to be an anxious person and was definitely wanting to make the best first impression. heck, she even made her own outfit so she could stand out! but unfortunately to her surprise, she was greeted with a bunch of frowns and a few dirty looks. she was forced into this situation with absolutely no warning and had to put up with everyone disliking her at first (except our favourite ray of sunshine, our mutual blue bby & our drama chasing diva)

so it’s unfair for amaya to be blamed for all of this when she didn’t even know. yeah, i am sad that jade was viewing her so wrongly. but i cannot blame jade. jade is sorta stubborn and obviously struggles with major change. she lost the one she was closest to and suddenly was forced to adjust to this new girl who took bella’s place. if i were as cold of a person as jade, i’d have that exact same reaction. she didn’t wanna believe bella was gone. she didn’t want to experience this change. she didn’t bully amaya, thank goodness. she just paid little to no mind to her. of course she threw her a couple angry looks and was very brief with her whenever she spoke. but eventually they made up. no one was bullied, no one is mad.

FINAL COMMENT THEN I AM DONE

yea ok if you bully me or anyone else for simply digging into RH lore then you can leave. or i’ll just block of that’s easier for you. some of u only watch at surface level and that is okay! if that’s what you enjoy, k. cool. you do you.

some of us dont watch at surface level and that is also very very okay. some of us want to get as much as possible out of rainbow high, given the circumstances. so we dig into it more than others might. some of us try to find the symbolism or pick up on tiny details that had gone by unnoticed. some of us go as far as redesigning the characters and reimagining their personalities and life at rainbow high. creating fun headcanons and making cool associations. just don’t bully people who do that. don’t get mad at us and tell us “getting too deep into this is worthless” “you’re not gonna get a job in life if you sit and defend a character all day”

news flash, it is some people’s literal jobs to read pieces of art and media and analyze it. english majors literally do this exact thing. heck, it may be more complex than this. but anyway. stop telling people that. can we normalize enjoying this without being insulted for it??? if you don’t wanna enjoy the episodes then okay. cool. you do that. i’ll go analyze my favourite characters and enjoy as much of the show as i can because i find enjoyment in this <33

[unsettledink]

Comfort (Re)Reads Recs

It's been a rough couple of weeks, both personally and just *waves hands around* you know, everything. I found myself going back to some of my comfort reads again and again and thought – you know, I bet other people are in serious need of that too.

So here's a handful of some of my favorite comfort reads across a bunch of fandoms. Most are pretty long, or series. Everything has a happy ending, but I like h/c so plenty have some hurt or angst on the way. I put the ones that have the most near that bottom.

For all of them I'd suggest looking at the author's other works too! And if you liked what you read, please tell them that it made your day a bit better. I'm off to do so myself.

Leader Of The Free World, @copperbadge

Marvel (MCU) - Steve/Tony, Bucky/Clint, 15k

Summary: Clint Barton's presidential campaign started as a joke. It didn't end that way, except for Steve.

Sixpence In His Shoe, @scifigrl47

Marvel - Steve/Tony, 100k

Summary: Steve and Tony should really read the fine print on what they're signing. Then again, some mistakes are not really mistakes.

Always Starts the Same, with a Boy and a Girl, lightgetsin

White Collar - Neal/Elizabeth/Peter, 21k

Summary: Summer, 1998. Neal Caffrey robs the gallery where Elizabeth O'Dell is working late, and comes away with a lot more than art. Agent Burke has no idea what's about to hit him.

Take Me Out,    @setepenre-set

Megamind – Megamind/Roxanne, 10k

Summary: The Metro City Wolverines are the worst team in the MLB. So Megamind, using the disguise watch to manage the stadium’s illegal betting pool, is understandably shocked when Miss Ritchi (at the stadium on a ‘date’ with Metro Man…and his mother) wants to place a bet that the Wolverines can win against the best ranked team in the league. But then, maybe the luck is turning for all of Metro City's underdogs…

My Heart Comes Tumbling Down, @devildoll

Teen Wolf – Derek/Stiles, 5k

Summary: "This is a casual, adult relationship based on sex, and it is awesome." In which Stiles and Derek have a great time buddyfucking until a burrito ruins it all.

Technical Support,    @astolat

Person of Interest – John/Harold, 13k

Summary: The IFT Plaza security team wasn't what John would have called the brightest stars in the firmament. (Written for the tech support AU prompt.)

From Thy Bounty, @ibby-writes​

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 30k

Summary: Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

Gift of Choice, @everysecondtuesday

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 11k

Summary: Tony Stark had a thing about giving Peter stuff.

Feels Like Something, Maybe It Fits, @learned-foot

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 7k

Summary:  Peter’s still not used to hearing that voice. Four months, and part of him thinks it’s a lie every time.

Better Than, unsettled (yup, it's mine. It feels weird to include it? But it was the comfort reread that set this off, so)

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 40k

Summary: Maybe there isn't really a fixed point where it starts, where any of it starts, nothing Tony can point to and say, there, there is where I made my mistake, there is where I could have stopped this, there is where I can stop it from happening again. Maybe it shouldn’t have been something Tony tried to stop. (or: the one where Tony is going to be responsible for once, ok? He is!)

The Swear Jar, @allthemarvelousrage

Marvel (MCU) – Clint/Laura/Tony, 12k

Summary: In the last three months, she’s seen Tony go through a lot of mood changes and shifts of introspection, but she doesn’t think he’s ever been close to leaving. Then again, she doesn’t think he’s actually aware of how intertwined his life’s become with theirs, because half the time, he’s exhausted from Avengers business or exhausted from engineering binges, and the other half of the time, he’s either trading one-liners and witticisms with Clint or coloring with Lila or building things with Cooper or letting Nathan crawl all over him.

This, You Protect, @vmohlere

Marvel (MCU) - Steve/Bucky, 64k

Summary: The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

have you heard, peradi

Star Wars - Finn/Poe, Finn/Poe/Rey, 42k

Summary: "I heard FN-2187 was a Stormtrooper."

Transfigurations, Resonant

Harry Potter – Harry/Draco, 71k

Summary: Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

Something Blue, Lapin

The Hobbit – Bilbo/Thorin, 34k

Summary: Thorin marries Bilbo after the Battle of Five Armies, a marriage of convenience, not love. Slowly, they must come to make the best of it, Bilbo resolves. After all, he's a Hobbit. They make the best of things.

Nothing Gold Can Stay,  @bilboo

The Hobbit – Bilbo/Thorin, 296k

Summary: Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?

Like a Comet Streaming On, @sineala

Marvel (616)– Tony/Steve, 32k

Summary: Tony escapes Afghanistan with a functioning Iron Man suit and a perfectly normal heart. He even manages to bring Ho Yinsen home safely at his side. But he may as well have lost everything... because his wolfbrother is dead. Six months later, the Avengers find Captain America, frozen in ice, miraculously alive. Everything and everyone Steve has ever known is gone -- except his wolfsister, the recipient of the lupine version of the super-soldier serum, who was frozen in his arms. Tony has everything but his wolf. Steve has only his wolf. This is how their lives fit together.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare, @firethesound

Harry Potter – Harry/Draco, 149k

Summary: Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

The End Where We Begin, @ingu

Man From UNCLE (Movie) – Illya/Napoleon, 21k

Summary: Illya kills an American spy in Zurich. Three days later, he’s staring into the face of a dead man standing in his hotel room.

A man turns around., spqr

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Steve/Bucky, 6k

Summary: Liver failure or a lone assassin with a long-range weapon will get him eventually. He doesn’t think it will take too long, now that he’s retired. He wishes death would hurry up. If happiness were coming his way, it would’ve gotten here by now. All that’s left to do is wait. Languish in the "later life" section of his Wikipedia page. Wake up in the morning and go to bed at night. Exist, until it’s over.

[fluffynexu]

Astralignment

and the Korribani Calendar System

Before the arrival of the Exiles the native Sith on Korriban had their own system of keeping track of time. Over the years, this became standardized and refined and is still in use by a large portion of the modern Pureblood community. Since the ancient Sith were observant beings of their world, many of the names and symbols reflected their natural environment. All of these aspects go into what is known as a Sith’s astralignment (astro-alignment).

Since the Empire runs on Imperial Standard Time (IST), anything relating to Korriban or any other Imperial world is referred by the local time of that planet.

Compare a year on  Dromund Kaas to Korriban:

Dromund Kaas (everything in standard)

24 hours/day

312 days/year

7,488 hours/year

60 minutes = 1 hour

24 hours = 1 day

5 days = 1 week

7 weeks = 1 month

35 days = 1 month

8 months (+4 weeks and 4 holidays) = 1 year

312 (standard)days = 1 year

Korriban

28 (standard) hours/day

780 (local) days/year

21,840 (standard) hours/year

70 (standard and local) minutes = 1 hour

24 (local) hours = 1 day

10 (local) days = 1 week

6.5 (local) weeks = 1 month

65 (local) days = 1 month

12 (local) months = 1 year

780 (local) days = 1 year

This roughly makes 1 Korribani year approximately 2.9 [Dromund] Kaasi years.

Calendars

The days on Korriban are annotated on some versions of the Imperial calendar alongside the standard days.

In this example, names of the days on the calendar reflect the IST. The black numbers indicate the date in IST, the red numbers represent the date of the Korribani calendar. Placement of the Korribani date indicate when that day begins in relation to the Kaasi one.

A. 00:00 is the same for both. B. 00:00 K starts at 04:00 DK. C. 00:00 K starts at 08:00 DK. D. 00:00 K starts at 12:00 DK. E. 00:00 K starts at 16:00 DK. F. 00:00 K starts at 20:00 DK. G. Loops back around and 00:00 K lines up 00:00 DK .

While seemingly complicated to some, most Sith have grown with this system of overlapping calendars and can easily tell the date by the positioning of the numbers in this format. 

There are of course, electronic versions where the date is shown simply:

Since the Korribani month is longer than the Kaasi one, the dates will continue through the Kaasi months. These next two pictures show how long 1 Korribani month is in relation to a Kaasi one.

There is also a version of the Korribani calendar that does not overlap with IST. These are used locally on the planet.

The days of the Korribani week were named after major gods from the most widespread pantheon on the planet:

Ahmuriq, from Ahmurn: the creator god.

Marseriq, from Marserha: mother goddess of the Sith.

Bashariq, from Bashara: goddess of passion.

Teraiq, from Teral: god of protection and justice.

Iskarliq, from Iskarln: god(dess) of conflict and war.

Marduriq, from Mardur: patron god of the Massassi and strength.

Rusaniq, from Rusanel: goddess of knowledge.

Zefiriq, from Zefir: goddess of the hunt.

Shumariq, from Shumari: god of the harvest.

Goruiq, from Gorul: the trickster god(dess).

Months

There are numerous constellations in the Korribani sky. Twelves of these mark the months of the year as well as going into the astalignment. The 12 major, monthly constellations all depict local fauna from ancient fables and have certain characteristics that are commonly associated with them.

1. Yuninchâtsutuyok, the jiminat and agzonûboj engaged in eternal conflict. Dedicated, ambitious, and insightful.

2. Qyalatuyok, the qyalak. Calm, sentimental, and inquisitive.

3. Badzuriqatuyok, the badzuriqash. Tenacious, practical, and direct.

4. Kaarjontuyok, the kaarjontû. Spontaneous, contemplative, and observant.

5. Tukatatuyok, the tukata. Loyal, respectful, and staunch.

6. Hatyatuyok, the hatya. Articulate, perceptive, and adaptable.

7. Lomaituyok, the lomait. Disciplined, fearless, and competitive.

8. Dzushatuyok, the dzushaj. Private, calculating, and flexible.

9. Mowhetuyok, the mowhef. Stern, traditional, and ruthless.

10. Dyaltituyok, the dyaltir. Mischievous, studious, and charismatic.

11. Jhan’dikanatuyok, the lost dikana. Creative, sociable, and resourceful.

12. Niqoituyok, the niqoit. Erudite, cunning, and free-spirited.

Years

The years are also represented by local animals. No one, not even Sith scholars or historians, are sure of the origin of how these animals came to represent the years on Korriban’s calendar. It is one of the many parts of Sith culture that have been lost since it is believed this particular record has been passed down through oral tellings.

The years are kept track of in a 6-year cycle with each year emphasizing a likely success for the ones born in that year.

Chiroik - Wealth

Wokinai - Knowledge

Natûsh - Fame

Dzenal - Influence

Litskoj - Power

Sulemish - Longevity

(ie. Those born in the year of the Sulemish will have a long life.) This again factors into a Sith’s astralignment.

In addition to the years, these 6 animals are also used for the hours on Korriban. But time is not conveyed in the same manner as Basic. While in Basic one would simply say “14:25” (or two twenty-five in the afternoon) the Sith have a much more involved way to convey time.

For example: Shyracks screech and return to their caves as the priestess prepares the altar in the hour of the wokinai.

Translates to: 07:15 local time (or seven fifteen in the morning).

As a side note, a few centuries ago Darth Feras domesticated and bred wrats within the Empire. At first they weren’t seen with much interest by her peers. But popular rumor has it that she pointed out her creations embody the physical traits of the yearly beasts.

Eyes - Chiroik

Ears - Wokinai

Body - Natûsh

Hands - Dzenal

Feet - Litskoj

Tail - Sulemish

Afterwards they quickly became a favored pet and companion among the Sith, being seen as an auspicious animal.

While not related to their calendar there is a tradition of being assigned a birth flower. For this, the Sith do not look to their skies but rather, when a child is born the placenta is buried in a pot with 12 seeds. The first of these seeds to sprout becomes that Sith’s birth flower. These 12 flowers are also used in medicine, therapeutic or preventive, for some common ailments.

Serla for headaches.

Roshal for good eyesight.

Nashkir for sore throats.

Atsudqâ for heart health.

Hyaranjat for good digestion.

Mûyoin for muscle pain.

Shasâyar for fertility.

Jûzon for blood circulation.

Ashanin for bone mending.

Qoyo for fevers.

Chisiqsanu for irritated ridge skin.

Kûsk’inti for fatigue and replenishing energy.

The last two parts that go into a Sith’s astalignment are their energies. The weekly energies correspond with 4 classic “elements” of earth, fire, air, and water. While the daily energy simply refers to day or night (d/n) in regards to when the person was born.

Combined with all aspects mentioned in this document, year, month, weekly energy, day (+energy), and flower, one can study a Sith’s astalignment.  ex. Darth Vowrawn’s astalignment factors:

The study of these astralignments is a complicated field on to its own while the findings can be very important to some among the Sith. There are specialized scholars who offer their services to the old families so that the “perfect matches” (marriage, business, or otherwise) can be set up.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

aaaaahhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT’S DONE. i feel like frodo at mt. doom after the ring is destroyed omg... ;-;

SOOOO. i wanted, and i mean REALLY wanted, to finish this for lunar new year (for pretty obvious reasons lol)...... :,) welp. then i was like “i can do may 4″ lol NOPE. but here we are! still technically sith day? whatever. imma say I Did It. :D

also pls don’t laugh at my stupid drawings. i already know i can’t art. ok??? >,<

special thanks to @snootysith​ for giving me a bunch of sithy names and words for me to use. c: like y’all... coming up with fake words, that look and sound ok is really HARD (for my dumbass anyway)

other worldbuilding posts that are... sorta mentioned/used in this:

@inquisitorhotpants​‘s dk calendar

BOOS! x3

and some other stuff ....

but uh, yea. if you’re wondering “hang on there fluffy... did you really make a big, dumbass zodiac/astrology post??” the answer is...

yes.

yes i did... xU

but also i imagine the ancient sith had a lot of special and important dates for you know... religious things? *shrug* and over the many, many years all of this was passed down and prob altered in some way to fit into modern sith society? idk...

now imma say some things here bc i know For A Fact!!! that ppl don’t go onto original posts to read op tags on this hellsite lol.

and this isn’t me trying to sound like an arrogant asshole... but these are for some common questions that’ll undoubtedly come up:

yes, you can use this in any extent or manner.

no, you obvs don’t have to. ignore it if you want. i’ll be ok lol.

no, i’m not gonna write a long ass book with all the little details on every aspect of all the traits and then assign these things for your character(s). just make something up. that’s what i did here xD (plus my brain is d e a d from this)

yes, this is seen as a mostly(!) tomato pureblood sith thing but obvs attitudes are different between individuals. some are super into it, some could careless and think it’s all fake news, some have parents that care too much about it which is annoying and interfering with their life so they lowkey hate it lol.

no, i couldn’t do a read more bc it wouldn’t look as nice and i worked hard ok? ;-; i apologize for clogged dashes in advance.

i think that’s it? ofc feel free to hmu if you’re ok with a reply that can take anywhere from a few min to 3 business days ^-^;

[thiswasinevitableid]

94 for sternclay for the winter prompts??? Especially if trans stern because I love that for him:’) either nsfw or sfw, hope you have a wonderful day!!!!! Your writing is a gift

Thank you so much!  I went with NSFW, and Stern is indeed trans.

94. you overhear my ex mocking me for being single at a holiday party and introduce yourself as my SO with a kiss on the cheek but we’ve never spoken before 

The things he does to pay for culinary school. 

It’s not the catering gig that’s bothering him; he takes pride in making food at conferences and office parties better than expected. It’s the fucking red, white, and green uniforms they’re making them wear for this one. It’s hot, itchy, and he really would prefer to wear the winter sweater Thacker gave him last year. It’s rustic but festive. It’s also sitting in his car, because no one told him about these uniforms until he got here. 

You can’t spring a surprise uniform on a guy who’s 6’4 and 190 pounds. The vest digs into his stomach, the jacket is too tight, and the pants don’t cover his ankles. 

It’s too bad, this party is pretty fun to work. It’s for a big-name publisher looking to seem hip, so the band is good and the decorations don’t look like the Macy’s Parade puked all over the room. 

The meals aren’t sit down, more a five hour cocktail party with canapes on trays and a spread of food at the back. Barclay sets out a new plate of crostini, wondering if they have enough fruit for the evening, when someone taps his shoulder. 

“How can I help-”

“I need a refill.” James, his ex, smirks at him.

“Not the bartender.” Barclay picks up the empty tray. 

“So?”

“I stopped being the guy to refill your drinks when you dumped me. Go ask whatever poor sap you dragged to this to do it for you.”

“Poor sap? Barclay, you sound like one of those boring mysteries you always read.”

“I’m trying not to swear, I’m at work.”

“Too bad you left me-”

“You broke up with me”

“-You could be enjoying the party instead of serving lukewarm food in a ridiculous outfit. Then again, looking like a clown suits you.”

“Man, c’mon.” Barclay can’t get into it here, James is absolutely the kind of guy who will use it to get him fired.

“Not surprised you haven’t found someone who wants to put up with your whole puppy-dog routine. What good is all that bulk if you’re just a pus-”

“There you are.” An arm snakes around Barclays waist and he freezes. James stands up straight, plastering on a smile.

“I wish I’d know ahead of time this is where you were working tonight. It feels wrong to be out mingling when you’re stuck back here. Oh well, next year.” A soft kiss lands on his cheek and in his surprise he turns to look at it’s source. 

The man is almost his height, trimmer and dressed in a black suit with a blue and silver tie. He’s blue eyed, with jet black hair slicked back and a face that puts every movie star Barclay can name to shame.

Barclay has no fucking clue who he is, or if he’s mistaking Barclay for someone else. He doesn’t seem drunk enough for that. 

“Mr. Stern, it’s an honor to meet you, I, uh, this-”

“This must be the ex you told me about, right, big guy?” Mr. Stern sets a protective hand at the small of his back.

“Uh, yeah. Babe, this is James.”

“So, where at Penguin do you work?”

“I, um, oh, look, someone is calling me. Bye, Barclay, nice seeing you again.”

The hand doesn't leave his back until James is out of sight.

“I’m sorry. He was harassing you and that seemed like the fastest way to make him stop.” Mr. Stern is still standing proud, but his voice is now softer, almost shy. 

“That’s, uh, that’s totally fine. I really appreciate the help. Kinda surprise you saw flirting as more appealing than, like, pretending to be my boss or something.”

“He’d know I wasn’t, trust me. And don’t sell yourself short, Barclay.” Blue eyes lock onto him and scan all the way to his feet, “even a bad fitting uniform can’t hide what you have you offer.”

“Th-thanks.” He’s either going to hide behind the serving tray or ask this guy to take him home and he’s not sure which will reinforce Jame’s “puppy dog” taunt more.

The other man, sensing his discomfort, steps back, “Sorry, that was inappropriate. I know better than to flirt with someone who’s at work and can’t escape. I shouldn’t keep you from doing what you need to do.”

“I get off at nine.” He thwacks the tray over his mouth, “ow. Uh, and I don’t mind talking to you. If you want to. I, uh, I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend this whole party chatting with the help instead of having fun.”

A sigh, “I should go mingle. It’s really okay if I come back?”

“Yeah.” Barclay smiles. There’s no way this guy is coming back; if he’s here single, he’ll have a date in the next five minutes. 

Fifteen minutes later, he’s standing a respectful distance away and asking Barclay how this compares to other parties he’s worked.  

“Middle-ground. It’s not the one time I got to work my friends art gallery opening, and it’s not the wedding where someone tried to deck the bride with the chocolate fountain.”

“Oh my lord.” 

“I was in the line of fire and was washing chocolate out of my beard for an hour.”

“No one at home to do it for you?” It’s not subtle, and nor is the glance he gets over the rim of a cocktail glass. 

“Some things I’d rather not ask Mama’s help on.” 

“You still live with family?” There’s no judgement in that smooth voice, just genuine curiosity.

“Oh, no, Mama’s my...I mean she’s technically my boss but she’s also my friend, almost like an older sister. I live above where I work because she owns the whole building and takes in staff rent-free when she can. It’s nice working at her place, since I can cut my hours doing this.” He gestures to the nearby table of season fare, “which does mean I missed the attempted kabob-maiming last week. Relatedly, I’m happy this isn’t an all you can drink party.”

“You and me both. Two years ago Dean Koontz threw a punch. I think it was--oh, um, excuse me, work calls.”

This time, Barclay allows himself a moment of ogling as Stern walks away.

They pick up where they left off when the other man comes back, leading Barclay to mention he’s a cook at Amnesty Lodge .

“Wait, really? I love the Lodge, the food there is incredible.”

Barclay’s skin matches his terrible red pants, “Thanks. The head chef has been letting me do more of the menu and I’m really proud of it.”

“You should be. It’s perfect, although it’s a pity you being in the kitchen means I haven’t seen you sooner.”

He tries to say thank you again, but it comes out a garbled squeak

“Was that too far?”  

“Nope. Uh, it’s uh, just that I’m out of practice flirting or, like, getting compliments. They were pretty thin on the ground in my last relationship.”

“I see.” He’s learning to watch Stern’s eyes rather than the rest of his face, which hardly ever changes from it’s calm, professional set. Said eyes drip with disapproval. 

Old habits of defending people--even ones who are dicks to him--kicks in, “I mean, he kind of has a point. No one wants to date a six foot puppy. Guys like me are supposed to be all in-charge and shit like that.”

Stern raises an eyebrow, “maybe you’re looking in the wrong places.”

“Got any ideas on where I, uh, should be looking?” He takes a half-step towards Stern, standing up straighter. Stern doesn’t move an inch, but gives him a proud smirk. The pride is directed at Barclay.

“Lots. And I’ll share them as soon as you’re off the clock.”

“Don’t I even get a hint?” Another step.

“No, Barclay, you don’t. You’ll just have to show me you can be patient.” His tone changes, laced with the promise of a hidden prize that Barclay will do anything to earn. 

He just manages to whisper out “okay” as Stern is called away again. When he comes back, Barclay setting out clean plates and more silverware. They talk about restaurants, about Barclay’s friends and all the ways he tries to help them. Barclay endeavors to not go into full begging mode in public by looking at Sterns wrists rather than literally anywhere else on his body.

“What are those things in your cufflinks?”

“The Hodag. It’s a cryptid from Northern Wisconsin, and a really excellent example of completely fabricated cryptid that nevertheless goes on to have a life of it’s own. It’s very common in small towns, since if it goes well it acts a tourist draw. In fact, there’s some indication that even the Loch Ness Monster began as just such a hoax and-” He snaps his mouth shut, clears his throat, “sorry, I try not to talk shop at these things. It, um, tends to get on people’s nerves.”

“But I wanted to hear the rest. I mean, I have a high info-dumping tolerance because of one of my friends, but also you clearly know your stuff and I have no clue about any of it so please keep talking?”

Stern’s face is full of excitement, and he grows more animated as he talks. It’s the cutest goddamn thing Barclay’s ever seen, and he saw Dr. Harris Bonkers, his friend’s rabbit, as a baby bunny in a bow-tie. 

He clocks out two minutes after nine, and Stern is waiting for him near the doors to the staging room. 

“Are those the only clothes you have with you?”

“No. I have nicer stuff in the car that I planned on wearing.”

“Go get it. Here, I’ll walk down with you so you won’t have trouble getting back in the building.”

After jogging to his car while Stern waits for him in the gold and silver tinseled lobby, the older man guides him to an elevator. He’s pretty sure Stern is older than him; he’s a big deal, but not in some sort of prodigy way, which means he needed some time to get so well-known. 

They’re so busy coming up with Cryptid-themed ice cream flavors that Barclay doesn’t notice the floor number until they step out into a darkened hall.

If Stern brought him up here so they could have a quick fuck, he’ll jump for joy. 

“My office is this way. I figure you might like changing not in front of your co-workers or in a bathroom.”

Damn it, why does he have to be considerate instead of horny?

The office Stern brings him to is modestly sized with a huge bank of windows on the one side, facing out over the city. From here he can see apartments, stores, restaurants, all lit up in festive colors, trees dotting the little boxes of light. 

Stern locks the door, leans back against it, and nods at the clothes in Barclays arms, “Put them on.”

“Here?” He eyes the wide windows, the fact that the other man makes no move to leave or turn around.

“Yes.”

He manages, around the heart trying to hammer up his throat, “Are, uh, are you gonna watch?”

“Do you want me too?” There it is, the immediate softness in his voice, and Barclay understands that if he says no, he’ll have his privacy.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He reaches for the vest, gets the first button and goes for the second in a hurry. 

Stern raises his hand in a ‘pause’ gesture, “Slow down.”

“Yes, yes Mr. Stern.”

A gentle laugh, “Not quite, big guy. Were we anywhere else, I’d tell you to call me Joseph. But here..” he tucks his hands casually into his front pockets, “here you call me sir.”

“Fuck”  Barclay battles himself to keep his pace slow, needing to be good but also so turned on he’s afraid he’ll start humping the furniture. He forces himself to wait a count of two between each button, gets his vest and shirt off without further instruction. Stern watches him the entire time in silent appreciation. His shoes and pants are more awkward to take off while standing, and he braces himself on the desk, not wanting to sit without permission. 

Then he’s standing there in nothing but his black boxers and the lights of town, laughter floating from the party while Stern studies him like a menu. 

“Fold every and set it on the chair.” 

He follows orders, boggles at getting hard from someone telling him to fold laundry. Jesus, Stern hasn’t even touched him. Is he even planning to? Barclay can’t decide which option he likes better. He returns to his spot in front of the desk, hands folded in front of him. 

“Should I, uh, get dressed, sir?”

Stern pushes off the door, walking casually over like a shopper regarding a display, “That depends; do you want to do back to the party with your cock hard enough to hammer nails?”  He glances down, then back up with a pointed stare. 

“N-not really.”

Stern raises an eyebrow. 

“Not really, sir.”

“Then we’ll have to do something about it.”

“Are you sure we should do it here?”

“Barclay, if we get caught, I’ll be twice as mortified as you. I’m only doing this because we’ve got this whole floor to ourselves.” He cups Barclay’s cheek and the sighs, rubbing his face against a warm palm. 

“Okay sir, I trust you.”

A moan curls up between them as Stern’s other hand runs along his chest.

“Good boy. You like to be good, don’t you, Barclay? You like taking care of people?” 

“Yes, so much sir, please, lemme be good to you.”

Joseph strokes his face, “That’s very thoughtful, Barclay. But I think it’s been awhile since someone took care of you. Would you like me to do that?”

“Please, sir.” The response is pulled from him, one of the many parts of him aching magnetically to be near to Stern. 

The other man shoves his right hand down Barclays boxers, sliding his thumb over the head once before stroking steadily up and down. 

“Holy fuck” Stern gasps, “a guy could have a lot of fun with this thing.”

“It’s all yours, sir.” 

Fuck, where did that come from?

Stern groans, tips his head to kiss across Barclays chest, murmuring as he does, “Is that what you want, Barclay? You want this” he speeds up until Barclay’s hands fly to the edge of the desk, keeping him from dropping to the floor, “to be mine?”

He whines, nodding.

Stern’s hand stops.

“Yessir”

It starts up again, “what else do you want, big guy?” He’s still kissing all over his upper body, tone nonchalant.

“You, sir, I wanna fuck you or, or you can fuUUUck me if you want, not very good at bottoming-”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Stern lightly pinches his nipple, “what else?”

“I want to blow you, and, and FUCK, I bet you’re a fucking great kisser and I want you to fucking boss me around as much as you want, wanna wear a collar, a blue one, ohfuck” Barclay scrapes his nails along the woodgrain, “fuck, sorry, that was weird-”

“No, say more” his grip tightens and to Barclay’s surprise he’s panting, “tell me everything you want, even it’s got nothing to do with sex.”

“I want, fuck, to be tied up and told how good I am, want to wear something stealth sexy out in public, want to fuck in a cabin” his mouth is fully ahead of his mind, which is concentrated entirely in his dick right now, “want to eat at every five star place in the city, want to drag you places by that fancy tie, have a new car, buy any cookbook I see, I want, oh fuckohfuck, sir, I wanna cum please, want to so bad.”

“You can cum whenever you like, big guy. But you have to kiss me while you d-” 

He cuts Stern off with a kiss, clinging to his shoulders and pouring desperate, deep sounds down his throat. Stern kisses back with precision and a pleased moan when Barclay cums in his boxers. 

Stern eases his hand out and Barclay flops against him, face buried in his neck as he rumbles out a thank you. 

“D-do you want me to blow you, sir?”

Stern kisses below his ear, “Yes, but that’s not doable right now. Unlike you, I don't have a change of clothes, and something tells me you’re a, um,” he bites Barclays ear, “messy eater.”

“Only when I’m enjoying myself, sir.” 

“You don’t have to keep calling me that, unless it helps you come down.”

“I’m okay, Joseph. Heh” he smiles, inhales a minty cologne, “I like that name. It’s classic.”

“Thanks, I picked it myself.”

Barclay chuckles, snuggles closer while ignoring the sticky underwear. 

“You know, I can give you everything you want. If you want me to.”

“Some of those are really fucking expensive, babe.”

“You really have no clue who I am, do you?” Stern steps back, moving to the other side of the desk and pulling out a packet of wet-wipes, sliding one across to Barclay before cleaning his hands.

“A really cute guy who should let me take him to dinner?” Barclay pulls down his underwear to clean the cum from his stomach.

“Ever heard of Lucky Park?”

“No fucking way. I man, I know it’s a pen name, but there’s no fucking way, a guy who’s never off the NYT Bestseller list wouldn't fuck a nobody cook.”

“If the cook was hot and interesting to talk to he would. The kitchen skills help a little.” Stern winks

“But you wrote The Peregrine Quintent,  and Red Dust, jesus christ your stuff has been movies.”

“Now you see why James was so startled; I’m Penguins golden goose. That’s why I even have time to write books on cryptids; they know to indulge me. Plus I put out at least a book every two years for them and it always makes a fortune. Do you need to sit down? You look kind of lightheaded.”

“I’m fine, uh, just trying to make sense of it all. Also I can’t sit down unless you want my bare ass on your chair.”

“Another time. I guess you’re going commando for the rest of the party, but I think you can handle it, big guy.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” He grabs his pants and pulls them on, “holy fuck, this can’t be real, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Barclay” Stern touches his arm, “it absolutely makes sense. I had so much fun talking with you, you’re such a, um, a sweetheart. And you’re built like a wet dream. If, um, if this is too much too soon, tell me to back off but I, I’m serious. I can’t remember the last time I got butterflies like this around someone, or wanted to buy things or do things just to make them smile. You clearly look after so many people in your life; will you let me look after you, at least for a little while?”

“You really want to?”

“Unlike some people, I like big men with a gentle center. You can be my six foot puppy any time. Wait, hold on, that, um, that came out weird.” Stern giggles and Barclay, now dressed, pulls him into a kiss. 

“I get it, babe. You wanna go show me off?”

“Of course. I’ll get my camera ready; we have to record your exes reaction.” Stern kisses his cheek, “after all, maybe this will teach him to know a good man when he sees one.”

[siuilaruinofthegale]

Fic Writer Review

i was tagged by ye olde devil @snickiebear

1. How many do you have on Ao3?

uhhhhh. *checks* 6. We don’t talk about the ones that are more than five years old, though.

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2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

...embarrassing, tbh. 438,632 words.

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3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

how many have I written for, or how many have I published for?

if the latter: Naruto, Mass Effect, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and Harry Potter

if the former: Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Game of Thrones, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Naruto, ATLA, World of Warcraft, The Hunger Games, Star Wars (sequel trilogy), Avengers, and....... I think that’s it.

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4. What are your top 5 five by kudos?

lmao i barely have 5 so i’m just gonna list the four that don’t make me want to hide from all existence

- melodies of the warborn, 379 kudos

- red strings & lilac skies, 236 kudos

- Who Holds The Devil, 97 kudos

- ethics & odd wings, 72 kudos

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cutting here because i realized how long this gonna be

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?  

I try to respond to each and every one..... except for the hate mail. that gets promptly binned. my lag time on replying to some comments is legendary but so far the only one(s) i haven’t responded to are the ones where someone comments saying “DO THIS YOU NEED TO DO THIS”. there’s a difference between “I would love it if you did this” and “you HAVE to do this” and what i’m talking about are the latter.

i don’t respond well to orders.

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6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

*muffled snorts of laughter* yeah, uh, about that, i....... have only actually finished one of the multi-chapter fics i’ve posted on ao3. so technically rs&ls wins by default because it’s the only one with an ending.

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7. Do you write crossovers?

i’ve been known to dabble here and there but most of it is self-indulgent nonsense drabbles that’ll never see the light of day

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8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

i got one (1) rude review from A Known Troll on rs&ls. presumably they go through the kakasaku tag periodically and talk shit. i laughed at it until my stomach hurt and then i deleted it. don’t feed the trolls.

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9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

yes. and..... what do you mean what kind??

like do you mean what kind of participants does it involve? or what kind of detail i go into?? one night stands vs relationship smut?? kink smut or vanilla smut?

i’ve only ever written f/m smut, being that that is where i have experience to draw on, but i will be trying my hand at some gayer smut soon, i think.

i try not to go too detailed but i am VIGILANT about where hands and legs go. there will be no magically appearing and disappearing limbs in MY smut.

also i will write anything at least once. most of what i’ve written is probably fairly vanilla, and most of it is... if not within the confines of a romantic relationship, within the confines of a friendship

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10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nop. let me know if you see someone posting me stuff elsewhere, the only place i post these days is Ao3 because FFN is circling the drain and also i can’t remember my FFN password

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11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

NOP

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

perchance.

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13. What is your all time favorite ship?

*dodgy eyes* in what fandom?? i have too many fandoms for this to be an easy question to answer!

...i’ll just answer for the fandoms i’ve posted for.

Naruto: KakaSaku (don’t @ me)

ATLA: Zutara (don’t @ me)

Mass Effect: S H A K A R I A N  TRASH

HP: Dramione (don’t @ me)

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14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

joke’s on you, m8, i plan on finishing everything...... some day.

there are a few things i started literally ages ago -- like, 10+ years ago -- that i’ll likely never pick back up, and some of them were cool concepts, but.... that’s life.

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15. What are your writing strengths?

uhhhHHHH. I don’t actually know what I’m strong at, so I’m just gonna list the things people tell me I’m good at.

- dialogue! apparently it’s Very Relatable and realistic

- accurately depicting neurodivergent people (gee i wonder how i managed that)

- making things feel very vivid and palpable, especially in emotionally charged scenes

- writing kids who act their age instead of like mini adults

- poetic turns of phrase out of the blue

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16. What are your writing weaknesses?

description. how much is too much? should i go lavish? people read Tolkien describing trees for three pages. can i get away with describing a dress for half a page??

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17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

UHHHHH that’s a weird question. most of the dialogue i’ve written in ‘a different language’ for a fic is from a conlang (elvhen) so i don’t fuss too much over that. other than that, I do try to avoid it, or to keep the phrases something short that google translate isn’t likely to fuck up. if i was going to do anything more than like “where’s the bathroom” i’d find a native speaker to help me.

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18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

.....just like Snickie, I, too, first wrote for X-Men. specifically, Evolution. the fic(s) are still out there... on the internet... with their self-indulgent self-insert Mary Sues......

i was twelve, leave me be

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?  

anyone who goes here (here being my blog) knows the answer to this.

RED STRINGS AND LILAC SKIES

i don’t fuckin care if people think smut is gross. i think this story is art. i fucking love it and i am SO proud of it. i dead-ass bugged the boy about it until he read it and he’s never seen an episode of Naruto in his life and he thought it was good. i know it’s considered blase to like your own work but i think rs&ls is HELLA good.

I will not apologize for it, either.

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tagging... @stsathyre @thornspun @nekophiliaff @favouritequeeronthecitadel

feel free to tag yo’self if this looks interestin to you, just tag me in it so i can creep on you... in a loving way.