#just changed/updated it a bit bc last time I used it was last spring

[why-the-heck-not]

almost slipped into the procrastination rabbit hole of Notion-ing the fuck out of my life

[free-pancakes]

A Fire in the Shadows

LeviHan - Avatar the Last Airbender AU fic

Characters: Levi, Hange, Erwin, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, Kenny, Zeke, Sasha, Jean, Armin, Kuchel, Porco, Pieck, Pyxis

Summary: Levi, the nephew of a fire nation captain, stumbles upon a ragtag group of 5 known as the Scouts, formidably known for foiling the plans of local fire nation control, living in the forests a few miles north of Ba Sing Se.

Chapter 7/?

Chapter 7: The Lotus Tile Chapter 6: The Panda Lily Chapter 5: Interconnected Chapter 4: The Fire from the Shadows Chapter 3: Bonds Chapter 2: Trust Chapter 1: The Scouts

(crossposted to ao3)

Notes:

Sorry for a horribly late update, but here's a long chapter to make up for it! Also this is quite self-indulgent and features a Nanaba POV bc I love the idea of Levi and Nanaba being best buds :)

CHAPTER 7: THE LOTUS TILE

“Nanaba, please.”

Mike placed a hand on Nanaba’s shoulder.

“We’ve known Levi for almost a whole year now, don’t you even want to give him a real chance?”

Nanaba grit her teeth and she shoved him away, storming out of the hut. She grabbed a rope, slid down to the forest floor, and walked out to separate herself from Erwin and Mike, to get some air.

“How could they just… trust him like that?” She yelled out, her voice feeling small as it immediately disappeared in front of her, absorbed by the thick, forest foliage surrounding her.

Nanaba was frustrated, and absolutely appalled at Erwin and Mike. Each of them had gone on a mission alone with Levi and Hange, and suddenly they just… trusted the guy? Acting like long-time buddies? Like one trip with him was somehow transformative, turning how they viewed him a whole 180?

Sure, objectively, Levi seemed… alright. He’s worked well with them as a group overall, and hasn’t pulled anything fishy so far. But for whatever reason, Nanaba felt that something was off. Her gut told her that there was something Levi was still keeping from them all—and that worried her immensely because, well, her gut was rarely ever wrong. Hange was one of her closest friends—she’d snap the little man in two before he could even lay a finger on Hange.

Nanaba suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder—eliciting yet another burst of rage within her.

“Mike, can you please just—“

She turned to find Hange staring at her, the lamp in her hand lighting up her face, highlighting the deep concern in her eyes.

“Oh, sorry Hange.”

“Mike getting on your nerves again?” Hange teased, elbowing Nanaba as she wriggled her eyebrows.

Nanaba’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and took a pause.

“Doesn’t he always?” She retorted, and the two of them fell into a fit of laughter. As their giggling gradually died down, Hange took Nanaba’s hand.

“Please come with us tomorrow?” Hange said softly, giving Nanaba her best pout and puppy-dog eyes. She really wanted Nanaba to get along with Levi—she thought they’d make great friends if she just gave him a chance.

“…Fine,” Nanaba said as she rolled her eyes. “But can’t promise to be nice to him.”

Hange raised her fist in the air in triumph. “Sounds like a plan!”

—————————

As the sun began to rise, breaking dawn’s purple hue, the three arrived at the entrance to a small, bustling town. Hange stretched her arms back and let out a huge yawn.

“Wanna do that any louder and wake up the whole damn town?” Levi muttered as he reached to press up on Hange’s chin to stifle her yawn. Levi wanted to smile as Hange laughed, but he couldn’t help but hold it in, as he felt uneasy sensing Nanaba’s glare staring him down from the side.

“Let’s plan on meeting back here in an hour? Grab supplies, food anything else we might need?” Hange asked, which elicited a nod of agreement from the other two. As they all split ways, Nanaba hung back for a bit, watching Levi’s back as he promptly walked down one of the streets with stalls setting up shop for their early morning shift. As she looked over to see Hange heading in the opposite direction, she realized that she had rarely observed Levi alone, and even more specifically, seen him separate from Hange—so she decided this would be her chance to check up on him, to see anything that may confirm her suspicions and distrust towards him.

She trailed behind Levi, just far enough that he likely wouldn’t notice. And… all was pretty normal. He simply stopped for a new water canteen and various other things. Though just before Nanaba could let her guard down, she noticed Levi linger and stare at a tapestry on the wall outside the town’s tea shop.

She watched his eyes linger on the Fire Nation emblem stitched into the cloth. She couldn’t read him, and was unsure of what kind of emotions lay in his gaze. But, she found herself narrowing her eyes—he had been staring for a bit too long for her liking. She didn’t know what to make of it, so she quietly followed Levi into the tea shop. Nanaba watched him sit at the small bar up front, so she found a table just within earshot, and lifted her hood to keep him from recognizing her.

After sometime, Nanaba took her remaining bites of food and sips of tea. Before she could stand, she heard Levi shift from his chair to leave. And suddenly, she heard the small clatter of wood hit the tile floor. She turned her head slightly to steal a peek, and watched Levi bend down to pick up what looked like… a small Pai Sho tile?

“Sir, I think you dropped this,” Levi said quietly, reaching his hand out towards the man who had just left his seat next to Levi a second ago. The bald man turn around towards Levi.

“Oh, clumsy me, huh?” The man exclaimed with a chuckle. He reached his hands towards Levi, closing Levi’s fingers over the tile, and pushed it back towards him.

“What’s your name, son?”

Levi’s gaze remained steady, his eyes blank.

“Levi, sir.”

“Levi…?

“Just… Levi.”

“Alright, ‘Just Levi’! The name’s Pyxis,” he said with a smile—something in his eyes made Levi feel slightly uneasy, though. As if Pyxis knew something about him.

“Tell you what, I’d say it’s your lucky day. Keep that. It might protect you someday.”

Pyxis turned around to leave.

“Wait!” Levi called out to him, following him outside the shop. Nanaba quickly threw some money down on the table, hurried after to listen right by the door to the shop.

“What do you mean, it’ll protect me?”

“If you’re ever backed into a corner, let’s just say, there may be a time when it comes in handy for you someday—someone may recognize it, and I assure you, that would save you from whatever mess you were in. Or… of course, if you choose to give it to someone you love, they’d be protected,” Pyxis explained. He brought his fist up to Levi’s chest and tapped over his heart, and winked at him before walking away, sipping on a flask he pulled randomly from his pocket.

“Someone… I love—“ Levi whispered, standing quietly as the cool breeze gently blew strands of hair away from his face.

Levi stared at Pyxis, and back down at the small Pai Sho tile in his hands, engraved with a lotus symbol. He flipped it around in his fingers for some time, his eyes lost in thought before he slipped it into his pocket.

Nanaba’s eyes narrowed as she wondered if Levi would tell her, or any of their friends about it.

She sighed and waited for the coast to be clear before she made her way out. She turned to stare at the fire emblem outside that Levi had fixated upon earlier.

Nanaba wondered if just maybe... Levi might...

She shook her head.

“No way,” she said firmly, and hurried back to meet up with Hange and Levi.

—————————

“Got it!” Nanaba yelled as she took off with a sprint, Hange and Levi not following too far behind. A blast of fire raged right past her face, and the three ran even faster through the trees.

Suddenly, a Fire Nation soldier slipped out of nowhere, startling Nanaba and causing her to trip. Before she knew it, she found herself almost fallen off the edge of the rocks on the side of the mountain, Levi’s hand in hers the only thing holding her from falling to her death.

Levi hoisted her back up, and they fell into a pile of leaves, the sounds of Hange fighting the soldier happening just behind them.

“Are you okay, Nana?” Levi asked between exhausted breaths.

“Yeah, thanks… Levi,” she answered. She quickly stood up and pulled Levi up with her, and the two looked at each other, nodding. They ran back towards Hange, but before they could reach her, another soldier ran past, fire bending through the tree trunks. Multiple giant trees began to fall, causing Levi and Nanaba to run back and away—and now Hange was left alone with 2 giant soldiers, at best. They started running around the fallen trees and debris, but it seemed it would take them awhile to find their way through. As they ran, flames shot upwards from the fight—there had to be at least 3 Fire Nation soldiers out there with Hange. But out from the sounds of combat, a scream echoed through the air, shortly followed by a deafening silence.

“Hange!” Levi yelled.

Nanaba looked at Levi, and almost froze on the spot. In the past year, she had never seen much change in expression when it came to Levi—he guarded his intentions and thoughts behind an expressionless glare at all times. But this time, she watched as tears streamed down Levi’s face, his eyes filled with genuine worry and pure panic, utterly lost as he stared at the debris, desperately trying to think of a way around it faster.

“Levi, spring me upwards? Like how Mike does it!” Nanaba yelled. Levi wasn’t as strong as Mike, but it would have to do. Levi nodded, and Nanaba ran towards him, and as she jumped up, Levi pushed up on her feet, propelling her overhead. She landed haphazardly near the top, and climbed upwards. Hastily, she pulled a rope from her backpack, tied it around her waist, and threw the other end down at Levi. With all her strength, she pulled and moved backwards, hoisting Levi up with her.

As they reoriented and looked down, the scene made each of their hearts stop.

“…H-Hange?” Nanaba heard Levi whisper, exasperated.

Nanaba watched the soldiers sprinting off far into the distance, and Hange, like a shadow, unmoving on the ground. Her backpack’s contents strewn about carelessly, her arm twisted in a way that made both Levi and Nanaba want to vomit. At that moment, rain began to drizzle over them, water stained with red on the ground around Hange.

Nanaba stammered— “They realized she didn’t have the documents we stole, and just… she didn’t even have them so why did they go so far…”

Levi jumped down and Nanaba hurried after him.

“Levi! It’s not worth it—it might storm, and we have to look after Hange and get all of us to a safe place!”

Levi froze, Nanaba staring at his back as he began trembling—trembling with an undying rage. She laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

“Come on.”

Nanaba hurried over to Hange—she was knocked out cold, her left arm obviously broken, burns and cuts strewn over her face and arms. She was injured badly, but luckily other than the arm, nothing too serious. Levi walked gingerly towards them, and stared at Hange. His eyes lingered over the cracks in the left lens of her glasses, spiderwebbing outwards from the center. He bent down to carry her, Nanaba helping by keeping her broken arm steady as Levi shifted her into a comfortable position in his arms, her head falling forward against his chest. Levi nodded, and they began walking to descend down the small mountain.

Nanaba bared her bow and arrow in case anymore enemies approached—but the weather might just keep them safe for now. The rain began to fall a little harder, and Nanaba stole a glance back towards Levi and Hange. It may have blended in with the rain, but she could tell that Levi was crying, his eyes tinged red, filled with sorrow. Nanaba turned back to focus on what was in front of her, feeling her hand clutch at her chest, caught utterly surprised at how much it pained her to see Levi so upset.

——————

Light flickered against the rocky wall. Flames of their small fire licked the edges of the tinder pile, and the small crackles of burning wood echoed quietly throughout the small cave they found for cover, halfway down the small mountain. Thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed right outside. They would just have to wait the storm out overnight.

Luckily, Levi had learned a lot from all the time he’s spent with Hange, so he worked on tending to her injuries, Nanaba standing by when needed. Levi did his best to stitch up her lacerations, and they set her arm the best they could, a makeshift splint made from what they could find and the bandages from Hange’s bag. Levi finished it off with a sling made from the red cloth headband he always wore on his forehead, and they simply hoped it would be good enough for now—they’d have to meet with Moblit the next morning at their rendezvous point and make sure that it was done well enough to heal properly.

After their hard work, exhaustion fell over them. The two sat in silence, quietly eating their small food rations as they both stared into the fire. Peeking up at Levi for a second, Nanaba saw it—the rage hadn’t died down, flickering in his gaze. She wanted to say something, but she didn’t know what exactly to say—the words “It’s not your fault,” lingered on the tip of her tongue, but she knew that it would fall on deaf ears.

Levi was clearly blaming himself entirely for Hange’s injuries.

Before she could clumsily utter a word, Levi tossed her a small sleeping mat, and she listened to the sleepiness in her eyes.

She drifted off for a minute or two, but responsibility woke her up—she figured she’d fetch some water to refill their canteens before sleeping for the night. As she drowsily opened her eyes, she paused.

In front of her she saw Levi writing something on a piece of paper, and reach into his pocket. He pulled lotus tile from that morning, holding it in front him, and stared at Hange, laying asleep in front of him.

The old man’s words came to Nanaba’s mind, echoing in her head— “if you choose to give it to someone you love, they’d be protected…”

Nanaba’s jaw nearly dropped—Levi was trading that potential safety away, and giving that tile to Hange meant…

He really did love her.

Levi placed the note and the tile into the front pocket of Hange’s bag, where she’d likely find it immediately when they’d return home. Levi sat directly above Hange’s head, and lowered his head, eyes closed. Their foreheads touched as he cradled her cheeks in his hands, his fingers lost in her messy hair as she slept soundly, probably in a deep sleep after all the pain meds they had to give her earlier. After a few moments in that position, Levi lifted his head, and ran his fingers through her hair, trying to gently wake her. Her eyes opened eventually, drowsy and laden with sleep, probably very unaware of anything that was going on. But Levi persisted, sitting her up slightly. He grabbed the new canteen he had bought for her that morning, and poured some water into her mouth, making sure she’d stay hydrated for the night, and laid her back down, Hange immediately falling back into a deep sleep.

Levi looked up, startled to see Nanaba standing right above him.

“I can refill,” Nanaba whispered, reaching her hand out towards him. Levi nodded handing her their two canteens.

“Thanks, Nana.”

“Yeah,” Nanaba whispered as she walked away. At the entrance of the cave, she looked back to see Levi staring down at Hange, continuing to run his fingers gently through her hair.

The storm continued to roll through, and Nanaba quickly got them some water from the nearby stream. Thoughts raced, but she was too tired to make much sense of them. But she felt it.

“Goddammit,” she muttered, as she felt herself feel much softer towards Levi, a lot more trusting in less than 24 hours. She hated admitting when Mike and Erwin were right. She wondered though, if her gut was still right, that maybe Levi might be trustworthy, but that he might still be hiding something...

Nanaba returned to see Levi still doing the same. She dried off from the rain and laid back down, all the muscles in her body tired and achy. She’d simply worry more about it tomorrow, she thought. And before she knew it, she nodded off into a deep sleep.

—————————

Thunder cracked, it’s boom so loud that it shook the cave. Nanaba shot up now wide awake, her heart racing. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and looked outside. It was still the dead of night. As she sighed in relief, she turned back to Hange who was still asleep. But…

Where was Levi?

Nanaba looked around, and he was nowhere to be found. She called out his name—

No answer.

The storm continued on outside, and Nanaba felt her heart drop in her chest. She should have said something to him—there was too much residual rage left in him, and she felt quite responsible for not trying to calm it. Worry fell upon her, as the worst case scenario popped into her mind: Levi must have went back to fight those soldiers, and there was no way he could take them all alone.

She sprung to her feet, grabbing her weapons and backpack. She took a look at Hange—she was sure she’d be safe here. She threw another blanket over her, and plunged out into the rain.

She sprinted up the mountain, her speed significantly shot from the muddy ground slowing her down. The sound of yells began to grow louder, and Nanaba pressed on towards it. But as soon as Nanaba arrived to the site, she found herself standing still, her bright eyes widened—Levi… seemed to be just fine on his own, but…

The scene was absolutely surreal.

Three Fire Nation soldiers were strewn about, writhing on the floor. All of them had cuts and burns all over, with their left arms bent unnaturally—quite identical to Hange’s injuries. Fire from the fight glowed, making each of their outlines quite striking to the eye. Nanaba stared, her eyes scanning all of this, trying to make sense of it all.

But as her eyes finally wandered upwards, there, Levi stood before her. His face glowed orange from the light of the scattered flames, in contrast from the dark blue hue of night—and his eyes were blinded with a fiery rage, his teeth bared almost like a wild animal, and…

Fire burned at his fingertips.

Nanaba’s felt her chest squeeze— she was right! She had been right! Levi had been hiding a secret from them all—he was a firebender. This whole time.

But the strangest thing was… Nanaba felt no pride at all. She wasn’t happy she was right, which was strange.

Instead, she felt nothing but hurt in her heart, seeing Levi like this. Nearly a slave to his guilt, clearly pained that Hange had gotten hurt while he was around. It was interesting actually—she realized that Hange actually hadn’t gotten any severe injuries like this since Levi had joined them…

Levi stood, unmoving. It was like he was frozen, not there.

“Levi?” Nanaba called out, but Levi didn’t answer.

She walked up cautiously towards him, but he didn’t move. And it wasn’t until she was just a few feet in front of him and called his name once more, that the flames in his hand extinguished. It was as though he returned back to the present, his eyes locking with Nanaba’s, now filled with hurt—the rage had finally dissipated. He realized now, that his secret was out in the open for her.

“Nanaba, I can explain—“

But his words were interrupted. Nanaba had taken her hand to cradle the back of his head, pushing him towards her so that his forehead could rest on her shoulder. And it was like all of Levi’s worries flowed out from him. Tears fell down his cheeks, and he sobbed as Nanaba held him.

She couldn’t believe she was saying this, and she hoped with all her might that she wouldn’t regret it in the future. But she felt something once again, a gut feeling that this was the right thing to do. For whatever reason, of all times, she remembered something her mother used to tell her as a kid—that sometimes, friendships could transcend lifetimes. And Nanaba wondered, if that had anything to do with the new friendship she was forming at this very moment.

“Don’t worry, Levi, your secret’s safe with me,” she whispered, and Levi hugged her tighter.

—————————

“Yes!” Sasha exclaimed as Armin finally cut through the wooden bars of the Fire Nation base holding cell.

“Kicking this down will probably alert the guards right outside of here, so are all of you ready for that?” Jean asked.

Moblit, Armin, and Sasha nodded with determination in their eyes.

“Alright, our plan should get us at least through the first guards, and we’re just going to have to wing it for a bit after,” Jean announced. He took a deep breath, and kicked down the wooden cell bars. The crash echoed, and they heard footsteps immediately mobilize just outside. Sasha threw open the door, and Armin poured out the remaining water he collected.

“Now!”

With a flick of his wrists, the water turned to ice, causing the guards to slip down the corridor. Moblit jumped out, sliding on the ice past the guards, and the other three followed suit. The ice was thinner than ideal, and the guards began to chase after them, stumbling, throwing flames out at them. They sprinted quickly, only to run into more guards, so they turned the other corridor.

“A dead end!” Moblit yelled. The four felt panic bubble inside their chests, desperately thinking of a way out of this mess.

Suddenly, the sounds of a struggle began around the corner, and the temperature seemed to increase significantly.

“More fire?” Armin asked.

“Maybe it’s Hange!” Moblit exclaimed.

They all cautiously moved forwards after the sounds of guards yelling and being shoved into utility closets ended. And as they turned the corner…

“Levi!” Moblit yelled, seeing him with flames at the end of his fingertips. Moblit, relieved to see him, ran up to give him a hug.

Levi smiled, ruffling Moblit’s hair.

“We came just in time, huh?” Nanaba asked, eliciting a huge smile from Moblit, who turned to also tackle her with a hug as well.

“I knew you’d come!” Moblit said, and continued to bury himself in the hug. After the smiles of reunion began to fade, Nanaba locked eyes with Levi. The two looked at the kids.

“Where’s Hange?” They asked. The four looked at each other, a serious look falling upon their faces, causing Levi’s heart to drop.

Moblit began to tear up again, and Jean quickly explained the situation.

Nanaba could feel Levi’s anxiety from where she stood, so she grabbed Levi by the shoulders to ground him.

“It’s going to be okay, Levi,” she said, knowing full well that he was twirling the lotus tile in his hand. It worried her greatly that Hange would give that back to Levi.

They knew what that meant if she was returning it to Levi: Hange knew there was a high possibility she wouldn’t be making it out of here alive.

“Levi, I’ll take the kids, and I’m sure we’ll come up with a plan. Hopefully Erwin and Mike found Hange, but it’s better we cover more ground.”

She patted his shoulders.

“Go Levi, we’ll back you up once we find Erwin and Mike, you can count on us.”

Levi nodded and began to run.

“Wait!” Levi spun around, to find Nanaba chasing behind him. Like that horrible night that their friendship began, she placed her hand on the back of his head and pushed his head onto her shoulder.

“We’ll find her, I know it,” she whispered. And Levi hugged her tighter.

—————————

Levi sprinted through the corridors of the Fire Nation base, yelling Hange’s name. He ran and ran desperately kicking open doors only to find empty rooms. Still holding the lotus tile in his hand, he sprinted, determined to find her.

He felt stupid for thinking about this now, but he couldn’t get it out of his head that he didn’t just tell her he loved her in Ba Sing Se.

“Stupid,” he muttered as he kicked down a door to yet another empty room. Light strewn from the end of this hallway, and he ran towards it. He was suddenly bathed in the late afternoon light, out into the open training grounds of the base. And there in front of him, was the person he least wanted to see.

“Hi Nephew, how’s it going?”

Kenny stood facing Levi, and Levi felt a fiery rage burn inside him.

“Where’s Hange, Kenny?” Levi demanded, knowing he was pressed for time. “Ohhh, your girlfriend?” He asked, chuckling to himself at the desperation spilling from his nephew.

He raised a hand in the air, holding a pair of glasses, with the left lens missing.

The glasses frames he knew all too well.

[burkymakar]

Tyson Jost Imagine: Collide (Part Two)

Summary: After a month of being Tyson’s nanny, you’re learning more about him and the team.

Rating: T (language and alcohol use)

Word Count: ~6.6k

Parts: Prologue, Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall

BLM Resources

Winter

At first you were kind of worried about acclimating to Tyson Jost’s life, but it’s actually fairly seamless. The first couple of road trips, he arranged for you and LJ to join him so he could keep his daughter close, but eventually he grew to learn to leave you alone with her on the road trips.

It was an absolutely marvelous time alone with LJ, FaceTiming Tyson when he was back in the hotel and sending him updates. He slowly learned to trust you more, only checking in a couple times. 

By late January, you’ve completely moved into his apartment’s guest bedroom. You spend your days with LJ, taking her through walks in Denver or taking her to the movies if there's something cute playing. She loves saying hi to everybody from her stroller, and seems to be besties with every passerby. The neighbors love her. Plus, she has the cutest baby winter wear and you have a lot of fun dressing her up. She loves it too, never wriggling or throwing mittens.

On your days off where Tyson has her, you either call Kacey or some old friends, but mostly you stick to Denver Art Museum. With your nanny-to-an-NHLer paycheck, it’s your first splurge to become a member. It’s a great way to pass the day, and you love art so you love going.  

Some days with LJ, you mostly just stick to the apartment. Tyson seems to spoil her, there are so many toys scattered around. She loves every single one, but her favorite seems to be a green, stuffed cat named Kit. You like reading to her, and right now you’re reading her Wizard of Oz. She loves it. 

At night when Tyson takes over, you stick to your room, unsure of how to handle sharing the space with him. It was so amazingly nice of him to let you move in, and charge you rent (at your insistence, but you have a feeling he’s massively underselling the value). 

You’ve lived with boys before, when you were in Care Networks in BC, and you’re pleasantly surprised by how generally tidy Tyson keeps the place. There are toys strewn all over, but there are no dirty clothes and he cleans his dishes pretty quickly. 

Tyson is surprisingly sweet. Actually, the surprising part should be more of a given considering how kind his sister has been to you. He always checks in, and offers to pick you up food. He even gave you vouchers for Lyft for you to get around Denver. And, sometimes, when his daughter is asleep, you two will just chill on the couch together. It’s casual and cozy. 

Your third week with the Josts, you read LJ the last bit of The Wizard of Oz. 

“‘From the Land of Oz,’ said Dorothy gravely. ‘And here is Toto, too. And oh, Aunt Em! I'm so glad to be at home again!’"

You set the book down and clap her hands for her.

“The end. Did you like it?” You ask LJ.

She says “bok!” and waves her arms. 

“Yes, it was a book,” You tell her. “You have your own Toto too.”

“Kit,” She says, holding the kitten toy in a vice grip, then yawns mightily. 

“Oh yes, so tired,” You tell her. “Good thing it’s time for bed.” 

You give her a bath, change her diaper, and put her in the comfiest jammies. As you go to set her down in the crib, your phone vibrates. 

After you get LJ settled, you see the text is from Tyson. 

“We’re about to go on the ice, all good??” His text inquires.

You send a picture of LJ in her crib with a thumbs up emoji. He sends one back. You’re not sure how superstitious he is, so you just say “I hope you have a good game.” He sends another thumbs up emoji and the hockey emoji. So you assume he doesn’t mind.  

The Avalanche are playing the Sens tonight, a team you hate. You’d avoided watching hockey on the TV since moving in with Tyson, because that was his job. It’d be weird, right? What if he came home to watch you watching him on the ice?

Granted, time travel would have to be possible, but the idea still mortifies you.

But you do miss hockey, and you would love to see the Sens get their asses handed to them, so you put on the game. 

You get through the first period then grab some chips to snack on. The Avs are up 2-1 in a really tight game, and you watch excitedly as Tyson gets an assist in the second period. 

You almost cheer, then remember that LJ’s sleeping. So you have to quietly celebrate. 

During the second intermission, you hear a cry through the baby monitor and go to check on LJ. She’s standing in her bed, nose runny and tears down her face as she holds her crib bars. 

“Oh, baby,” You coo and pick her up, grabbing a tissue to wipe her face. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Da-da!” She wails. 

You know Tyson likes to keep her on a strict sleep schedule, but she looks so sad without him. “C’mon, we’ll watch Da-da’s game.”

Hooking LJ on your hip, you carry her into the living room and resume the play. “See? There he is.” You point out #17 whenever he shows up on screen. Each time you do, she perks up a little more. She also appears to recognize other players when the footage cuts to their faces in a close-up.

“Cah,” She points at Cale Makar, who you’ve seen around the complex. “Jah” She points at JT Compher, who’s been around the apartment a few times. She seems to have sounds for each player, which is adorable.

While she had been napping during your time together, when you weren’t cleaning up or preparing snacks, you passed time by researching the roster for the Avs, since you now kinda worked for them. It helps when you hear Tyson talk through his day with LJ, which he does every night. You try not to eavesdrop but the walls are kinda thin. Plus, it’s super sweet, hearing him tell her everything about the team and his practices.

You bounce her a bit as the game play continues, and the Avs score two goals in quick succession. She still isn’t asleep by the end of the game, so you move to the couch and let her rest on you.

The Avs win 4-1, and you move to lay on the sofa so you can better support LJ’s head. You know you should put her back in her crib, but you figure it’s not worth it to wake a sleeping baby. 

You hum, petting her curls and rubbing her back. She makes these little huffs in her sleep, and it’s so goddamn adorable. It makes up for the fact she spit up on you yesterday before you could prepare and ruined one of your favorite sweaters.  

The door opens and you see Tyson walk in with another guy. You blink in slight surprise when you see it’s Cale Makar. 

Every time you think you get a handle on the fact you now work for an NHL player, he does something like bring one of the most famous rookies in the league to his apartment. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Tyson says at a normal volume, stopping when he sees LJ. “Everything okay?” He whispers. 

“Let me put her to bed,” You whisper, easing to sit up. LJ wriggles, thankfully not waking. 

“I got her,” He says and takes her from you. 

“Hi, Y/N, how are you doing?” Cale asks as Tyson puts LJ in his room,

You smile, “I’m good, how are you?” 

Tyson comes back out, shutting the door, as Cale answers, “Doing pretty good. Buzzing, have a lot of energy.”

“Why wasn’t LJ in bed?” Tyson asks, not accusatory just curious. 

You turn back on the baby monitor and stretch, “I think she had a bad dream, she started crying and calling for you, so I let her watch the game. Congrats, by the way.”

“Thank you,” They both say. “It’s good she’s an Avs fan,” Tyson adds, causing you to chuckle.

“We were gonna have a beer, want to join us?” Cale offers. 

You were going to leave them to it, but it has been awhile since you’ve just relaxed with some people your age. So you look to Tyson, and he doesn’t make any sort of disagreeable face. 

“I’d love to, if that’s alright,” You still check. 

“Yeah, of course,” Tyson says. He grabs all three of you a beer, and you stay by the bar’s island while he and Cale kick out on the sofa. 

“How are you liking Denver, Y/N?” Cale asks.

“It’s an adjustment,” You admit. “But this is such a cool city.”

“Have you gotten to explore much?” He asks.

“LJ loves going on walks, even with the snow, so I take her around. I really love the Denver Art Museum. We’re walking distance, I go there a lot.”

“You like art?” Tyson asks, sipping at his beer. 

You’re too worried, for a lot of reasons, to drink. So you just play with the bottle, twirling it around. “I love art, and the museum’s amazing, so many different mediums. LJ’s been with me a few times, she likes the interactive exhibits.” 

Cale nods, and he asks more questions about your time at UBC, and you ask about his time at UMass. 

Tyson interjects every once in a while, but mostly the conversation stays between you and Cale, who is an absolute sweetheart. You’re so engrossed in the conversation that you’re surprised when you see it’s already 11. “Thanks for the beer, boys,” You still haven’t had a single sip, but you get up anyway. “But LJ gets up at 5, so I’m going to bed.”  

“Have a good night, Y/N,” Cale says.

“See you tomorrow,” Tyson offers. 

You smile at them both and say, “Again, great game.” Then head to the bathroom to brush your teeth. As you do, you smile again, just to yourself. It had been so long since you’d had a conversation with someone who could have one back. And it was a nice feeling. 

+

After Y/N heads into her room, Tyson goes to put on some Netflix but Cale says, “Walk with me to my room.”

“Oh, okay, dude,” He says and follows Cale out. 

As they walk through their hallway, Cale says, “Have you thought about inviting Y/N to anything?”

Tyson honestly had. But he keeps remembering JT’s words, and he’d hate to make you feel uncomfortable, so he hadn’t. “I’ve thought about it. Why?”

“Well, she doesn’t know anyone out here, right? And she’s living with you. It doesn’t seem like she’s had a lot of opportunities to make friends.”

“Shit,” Tyson rubs the back of his neck. “I wasn’t sure if she wanted to hang out with me without getting paid.” 

Cale laughs, “Fair point. But she doesn’t seem to be meeting people. I don’t think there’s any harm in asking.”

“Think it’s okay to invite her to our get together tomorrow?” They had a practice on Friday then a day off on Saturday before two games on Sunday and Monday. He was gonna give her the night then the two days off.

“I’m sure the guys would be down,” Cale shrugs. “Are you gonna bring LJ?” 

“Maybe I’ll have Y/N come with LJ to the practice, but there’s a sitter I used who lives in our complex. Maybe she’ll be free on Friday night.” Her name’s Rhoda, and she’s 70, and all her grandchildren are in Wisconsin and New York, so she loves babysitting LJ. 

“Awesome, you know we love seeing her,” His d-man friend says. “I just remember how much it meant for you guys to invite to things when I joined the team.”

“Aww, rookie,” Tyson wraps an arm around Cale’s neck, causing Cale to shove him off near-instantly. They laugh as they reach Cale’s room. 

That morning, Tyson walks in to see LJ in her high-chair, feeding herself yogurt, and you sitting next to her, cleaning up some mess his daughter must have made.

“You going to the rink today?” You ask him. 

Tyson nods, “Yeah we have practice. I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” 

“What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come to the practice with LJ. She likes the arena, and I know you like hockey.” 

He can’t help but smile as you perk up. “That’d be amazing. Do I have fifteen minutes to get ready?”

“Of course, take your time,” He still has an hour before practice started. So he tickles LJ, causing her to shriek with giggles, and then helps himself to a banana. He doesn’t like eating much before practice, and they fed them all after. But he needed something in his stomach or he didn’t have energy.

You step out in a sweater and jeans, as well as LJ’s travel bag. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

At the arena, Tyson gets you signed in with a badge, and gives you a mini tour. He kisses LJ’s head, and says, “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” You say. “If I get lost, who should I call?” 

“Oh, I’ll send you our trainer’s number, and they’ll get you set up. But I think Zadorov’s wife is at this practice, she can show you around,” Normally, his mom just knew where everything is. But it’s easy to forget how big the Pepsi Center is when he’s there like every day. 

In the lockers, he gets changed into their practice jersey, and turns to the guys. “Are we still getting together tonight?”

“Hell yeah,” Nate MacKinnon says, stretching out his legs. “I intend on abusing our day off tomorrow with a hangover.” Gabe Landeskog reaches over and smacks him in the back of his head with his glove as the guys all laugh. 

“Would it be okay if I invite Y/N?”

“Your nanny?” Erik Johnson asks, lacing up his skates. “Since when do we need supervision?”

“Always,” Andre Burakovsky jokes. 

“I meant as a friend, Eej,” Tyson rolls his eyes. 

“Fine with me,” Cale says pretty quickly, probably trying to reassure Tyson since this was his idea. 

“Sure,” Burky says, and the other guys who could make it murmur their assent. 

“Want me to invite Mel? It’s last minute, but I bet we could get a sitter,” Gabe says. 

“Yeah, if you want,” Tyson shrugs. Maybe Mel will know more women for Y/N to meet. Probably not fun to spend her days with either a baby that can barely talk (as adorable and perfect and amazing as she is) and a bunch of annoying hockey players.

“Cool, I’m sure she could use a mommy break,” Their captain says, already pulling out his phone.

“So this is going to be a WAGs evening?” EJ interject. “Lame.” Sam kicks at him, but EJ dodges with a laugh. 

Tyson goes to interject that Y/N isn’t his wife or girlfriend, but everyone already knows that. So it’ll probably be more weird to say something, right? He decides to take his sister’s general advice and just shuts up.

On the ice, Tyson keeps his focus on the puck and the exercises. But every once in a while, he finds himself looking for you in the stands. From what he can see, you seem pretty comfortable with LJ, holding her up and dancing to the music they have playing. 

Before they start drills, he catches you standing near the boards, waving LJ’s hand for her. He waves back, and Bellemare takes the opportunity to go for his knees and nearly knock him off balance. 

By the time he’s able to look again, he sees you sitting with Aleksandra and Sophie, holding LJ in your lap so she can stand on your thighs. You seem to be having fun, and he knows LJ loves the rink. 

Satisfied, he doesn’t look to you or LJ again, keeping his focus on the pucks and his teammates and the game plans. 

It’s not ‘til after, when they’ve been fed, and they’ve had time to clean off, that he steps out to look for you in the seats, and finds you where he last saw you, with Aleksandra who’s already packing up. 

“Da!” LJ shouts immediately, reaching for him. He will never get tired of that. 

Gleeful, Tyson scoops his daughter up and kisses her cheeks, “Hi, baby. Did you have fun? Were you a good girl?”

“She was an angel, as always,” You report. “It was nice to meet Aleks, I didn’t realize Sophie was about the same age.” 

“Nice to meet you as well,” Aleks agrees. “I warn you. What the say about terrible twos is true.”

Tyson makes a face at LJ. “You? Terrible? Nooo.” 

She grabs at his scrunched nose.

Aleks and Sophie leave quick, since Z couldn’t make it tonight anyway. 

“What do you guys do after practices?” You ask, standing up. Your jeans make your legs look very long and elegant, and he has to keep his eyes up before he can really wonder what they’re doing for your ass. 

“A couple of us are getting drinks tonight. I wanted to ask, I was already planning on getting a sitter for LJ. Wanna join us? We’re going to a bar not too far from the arena.”

You hesitate, but then something shifts and you smile warmly. “I’d love to. Thanks.”

“Of course,” Tyson says, trying to bury the guilt of not thinking of inviting you sooner. He’s gonna have to buy a beer for Cale, that boy’s too smart. “We’ll just drop off LJ with Rhoda-”

“I want to see LJ,” Burky says, coming up with JT and Cale with all their gear.

“Buh!” LJ shrieks with glee, reaching for the left wing. 

Tyson hands his daughter to Burakovsky, who immediately cuddles her up and murmurs at her in either babble or Swedish, he still can’t tell. There are only three men on the team who don’t have kids he trusts to watch his baby unsupervised, and Burky is two of them. 

“Hi, Y/N,” Cale greets. 

You wave. 

“Glad you’ll be joining us tonight,” JT offers the nanny. “Tyson’s been telling us a lot about you.”

Tyson gives JT a subtle middle finger, since he doesn’t need Y/N knowing that. Not that he’s been saying that kinda stuff since he hired you. He keeps it professional, and he’s truly grateful for the care you give LJ. But he knows JT’s chirping about the fact he gushed about you back in December. 

“This is Andre Burakovsky by the way, he forgot to introduce himself,” Tyson redirects the conversation.

Burky looks up from LJ, “Oh, hi. Sorry. Y/N, right?”

“Hi,” Y/N laughs. “And yes. I totally understand, she’s a scene stealer.” 

“Give me back my baby,” Tyson says, and Burky reluctantly hands her back. 

“Nice to meet you,” Burky offers. 

“We have to drop LJ with the sitter, but we’ll be at the bar in half an hour,” Tyson says. 

“See you there,” The guys say. Tyson hands you LJ, but he then carries all her day stuff back to their car.

As they drive back to his apartment, he says, “Hey, I just want to check, it’s not, like, weird I invited you, right? I don’t want to put you in a tough spot or anything.”

“No, it’s very sweet,” You say. “Thank you for doing it. I’m excited to meet the guys.”

“Don’t be, they suck,” He warns, but you just laugh as he knocks on Rhoda’s door.

Rhoda immediately cuddles up LJ, who does seem to inspire that reaction in people, and says how excited she is for time with her. “Now that you got this one, I feel like I don’t see her enough.”

“I can bring her by sometimes,” You offer, and Tyson has to ignore how warm that makes him feel. “She obviously adores you.”

“I know babies,” Rhoda says sagely. “You two have fun on your date, now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tyson says, knowing it’s better than arguing with Rhoda about anything. “We’ll be back around 10.”

“Oh, be back later than that, I got this angel.”

“I’ll call when we’re on our way back,” Tyson compromises, knowing he’ll try to be back around 10:30 then. Going out and partying and getting lit stopped being fun when LJ came into his life. One, because she was a very good reminder of what happened when someone behaved without consequences, and two, he doesn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize being her father. He’s not his dad, absent and probably shitty, and he was the first year of his daughter’s life against his will. He’s not going to do anything to threaten that again.

“Say bye-bye to daddy!” Rhoda says, but LJ is too busy gurgling so they sneak out, wanting to avoid one of her tantrums at missing her dad. 

“Do I need to change?” You ask.

“You’re good,” He says. He could say something about it being a casual place with chill guys, but he has a feeling the less he says about how amazing you look in your outfit the better. 

“Do you want me to drive? I won’t be drinking,” You offer.

“I wasn’t planning on going nuts,” He says. “But you can drink, you’ll be off the clock, or whatever.”

You shrug casually, but there’s something off about it. “I just figured I’d offer since I don’t drink.” 

It’s none of his business, but he’s kinda curious as to why. You’re both kind of young to both have had and recovered from a serious addiction, and that goes against everything he’s heard about you so far. 

He’s saved from finding a proper response by his phone dinging with a text tone. It’s JT. “Hey, Gabe and Mel couldn’t find a sitter, but they still wanted to see everyone so we’re going to their house. So don’t go to the bar loser”

“Fuck u, we’ll be there,” Tyson responds then turns to you. “Slight change of plans,” He says aloud.

“All good?” You ask. 

“Yeah, we’re actually going to Landy’s house, sorry it’s not a night out,” He offers. It felt weird to go against the captain, and it’s not like JT gave him much room to argue. But he hopes you really don’t mind.

“You can have fun anywhere,” You say with a smile. “So this should be nice. Should we head over now?”

“Yeah, let’s get going.” 

+

A very deep sense of apprehension fills you as Tyson drives you two to the Landeskog house. You’re about to hang out with an NHL team at their captain’s house.

One month ago, you were couch surfing because you had to leave your dorm room and you didn’t have a home to go back to. 

You rub your sweaty palms on your thighs, and try to remember how to breathe as Tyson pulls up to a very nice house with some cars already there.

“Are you okay?” You jolt at the sound of Tyson’s voice, and see he’s already out of the car.

You nod, and get out and embrace the cold. It’s refreshing, and you take a deep breath of the thin air. 

Together, you walk to the door. You expect him to knock but he just opens the unlocked door.

There are a fair amount of players already there, mostly the single ones. They’re all insanely tall, even without their skates on.

Tyson shrugs out of his coat, as do you. “Where should I put this?” You ask. 

“We usually just toss them here,” He throws them on the stairs, and you see a ton of other coats there. You can’t help but snicker. 

“You’re much neater at our apartment.”

“Can I record you saying that so I can show my mom?”

You’re still laughing as you walk in and surveil the living room and kitchen, an open flowing concept. There are a fair amount of people there that you immediately recognize, like Cale and JT talking to the Nathan MacKinnon. Then Andre, who you met earlier, is holding a baby while talking to Erik Johnson and Sam Girard. There are other people, but you’re a bit distracted to name them all.

The Captain is in the kitchen with his wife, the two of them talking close and smiling. 

It’s so sudden and domestic that you’re taken aback, reminded of your own parents. The pain in your chest is so sudden, but you barely have time to feel it before you feel someone approach you.

“So this is Y/N,” Erik Johnson steps up to you and Tyson, Sam Girard right behind him.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” You extend your hand, trying to compose yourself. “Great goal last game, it was amazing.” 

“Glad to see someone knows how to start conversations with me,” Erik says, shaking your hand. Wasn’t he a first overall draft pick? His hands are huge. 

You smile and catch Tyson rolling his eyes. “You should learn too, dick, you didn’t introduce yourself,” He berates.

“No swearing around the baby,” Andre adds. It’s so heartwarming, seeing such a tall, big man so gentle around a tiny infant. 

“Oh, sorry, I’m Erik, but these bastards mostly call me EJ.” Andre rolls his eyes at “bastards”. 

“I’m Sam.”

“Nice to meet you both,” You say. “I’m Y/N.”

“Tyson’s told us about you, how you’ve saved his ass,” Erik says. 

“I do what I can,” You say, feeling oddly defensive of Tyson. “From everything I’ve heard and seen, he’s done a great job with LJ.” 

“Thanks, Y/L/N,” Tyson grins. “I’m not worried though. EJ only knows how to parent horses.”

“We all have our children,” Erik says, and you laugh. “Sam has his dog, I have horses. Some choose to have humans.”

“Speaking of, what a darling baby,” You say, refocusing on the infant with the giant red bow. 

“Not mine,” Andre’s quick to say. “She’s the Captain’s. I just like holding her.”

You look again at Gabriel Landeskog and his wife again, he’s leaning in to whisper something and she’s laughing. That tightness hits again, so you focus on the baby.

“This is Linnea,” Tyson says. “She’s only a couple months old.”

“She’s adorable.”

“Thank you,” You turn to see the captain approach, grinning. Andre hands Linnea back to him without much of a fight. “Sorry we couldn’t take you to a more fun place in Denver, Y/N, but our babysitter was busy. I’m Gabe Landeskog by the way.”

The Captain of the Colorado Avalanche knows your name.

Wow.

Right, you’re having a conversation, “No need to be sorry, you have a lovely home.”

“Thank you, we’re proud of it,” He says. “Feel free to wander around. If you need a break from all us guys, Mel and Sydney, JT’s girlfriend, are here.”

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Erik rolls his eyes. 

“I don’t trust that. Here, Y/N, I’ll give you a tour,” Tyson says. For a moment, his hand rests on your lower back, before it drops away, and you instantly miss the warmth.

By the end of the night, you’ve met everyone in the house. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect of their behavior, even though you had met professional players by that point. All the boys have a bit of booze in them and they’re still behaving pretty well. It’s been a while since you’ve been to a party, but all your apprehensions have faded away. 

The guys have started playing pool in the basement, but you, Sydney, and Melissa. 

Sydney has a cocktail but Melissa isn’t drinking so you don’t feel too weird about just having a soda. Linnea is chilling in your arms. It’s been a while since you’ve held a baby so tiny. But it does make you miss LJ a bit. 

“So, what’s it like being a nanny?” Mel asks. 

“I imagine it’s similar to what you do,” You smile. “Just on a different scale.”

Sydney snorts.  

“I guess I mean for Tyson,” She laughs. 

“He’s a great dad and boss, he just loves reading parenting sites, so he’s always checking out different tips,” You admit. “I get texts throughout the day saying ‘Have you heard about this method?’ And so I have to check them out and debunk them for him if they’re insane.”

“Aww, he means well,” Sydney coos. “He’s always been such a sweetheart. Underneath the slight douchey thing.”

“‘Douchey thing?’” You nearly choke. Kacey had called her brother a douche before but you didn’t realize it might have been a real personality. 

“I would have sworn he was from California, or some shit, with his attitude,” Sydney giggles. Her explanation only confuses you more. “Before LJ came into his life, he was kind of sleazy.”

You raise your eyebrows. 

“That’s a bit harsh, Syd,” Mel defends. “I’ve seen some rookies go a bit crazy with the fame. Josty wasn’t that bad.”

But she says “wasn’t that bad.” Not “wasn’t bad.”

Before you can really ponder this, Linnea whines on top of you and starts waving her little fists. 

“Oops, baby’s bed time,” Mel says. “I’ll go put her to bed.”

You hear something made of glass break downstairs and flinch, but Sydney just laughs and pulls you off the sofa. 

“C’mon, Y/N, let’s go see what they broke.”

That seems like a bad idea but Sydney’s pull you down the stairs to the basement, and you don’t want to be irritating so you follow.

The basement is just as nice as the rest of the house. There’s a mini workout station set up, but mostly it seems to be a haven for sports and nonsense.

“Stop breaking my shit!” Gabe is shouting, but it loses its impact with his giggling.

The game of pool seems to have turned into a game of beer pong, and they’re all laughing. That eases some of your nerves, and you take a slow break.

“I tell them they should stick to pool,” Sydney shakes her head, but she’s smirking. “They never listen to me.”

“Babe! Syd, Sydney,” JT quickly rushes over to them, seemingly giddy. “I won the last round. EJ couldn’t handle it.”

“You cheated.”

“How do you cheat at beer pong?” Sam asks.

“He blew on it weird!” 

“Take the L,” Gabe claps the taller blond on the back. 

Erik doesn’t seem actually mad, but hopped up. He looks you in the eye and points a finger at you. “I challenge the new girl. Y/N.”

Your eyes go wide. “I don’t drink,” You evade as the guys set up the fallen cups.

“I’ll drink for you,” Ryan Graves says, slightly slurring, leaning on a pool cue as if it’s a crutch. “Happy to sacrifice that make.”

“Me too,” Nathan MacKinnon holds up a hand, as well as holding his liquor better surprisingly. 

“I’ve never played,” You admit. It’s true, but you’ll say anything to get out of this game. These guys are professional athletes, and you’ve never even had a hangover before.

“The only way EJ can win,” JT snorts, and Sydney laughs. 

“I’ll help you, Y/N, come on,” Tyson gestures you to stand with him at the pool table. He has a gentle smile on his face, and your worries ebb away a bit. Hopefully, if you truly suck, Tyson can just take over. “You have these ping pong balls, eh? Just throw the ball.”

“She can have a practice throw,” Andre offers, and the other guys murmur assent.

“Kick their asses, Y/N, woo!” Syd cheers.

You send her a hesitant smile, pleased by the solidarity, and throw a ball towards the pyramid of red solo cups.

You miss by a near mile.

Tyson is the only one who hides a laugh. “Not bad for a beginner.”

“Just bad in general?” You ask, causing the laughter to grow.

“No, you just need practice, here,” He moves to stand behind you, picking up your hand. He’s not pressed against you,

“‘Oh let me show you my golf swing,’” Nathan MacKinnon mocks in a deep voice, causing the players to snicker. 

“Fuck off,” Tyson says without any heat, and it hits you that he’s right behind you. You can’t turn around to see him, but it’s almost like he’s whispering in your ear. “Zone ‘em out, they’re not saying anything. Just focus on the ball. I’ll guide you this time.”

His touch is gentle as he moves your arm and wrist to throw the ball, and you let him guide you. The ball hits the rim of one cup but it bounces into another.

And the entire room erupts in cheers like you just won a home game. 

You blame their reaction on the alcohol, but you can’t help but grin as they all clap you on the back, calling you “a natural.” 

You still end up doing poorly compared to EJ as the game continues, but both Gravy and Nathan seem content to drink your share of the alcohol. 

The rest of the night passes by in an exhilarating blur, but as it nears 10:30, you and Tyson bow out gracefully. Mel tells you that you are welcome to their home anytime, and Sydney calls you a badass bitch, and Nathan MacKinnon thanks you for getting him drunker. 

You’re reeling from probably the most fun you’ve had in your entire life, and you go through the motions of getting up to Rhoda’s apartment and gathering LJ’s things. You keep reliving the night, forgetting the worries, and hope you don’t forget the way your heart beats just thinking about playing beer pong with the guys or dancing with Cale when Gabe bumped ABBA from the basement, apparently at a volume where Linnea couldn’t hear. 

You’re thinking of the way it felt to have Tyson help you throw the ball again when you hear him ask, “Were you okay? I know we’re all kind of overwhelming.”

Tyson no longer has LJ, so that means she’s already in bed. You blink from your spot on the sofa, and turn to give him a reassuring smile. 

“That was some of the best fun I’ve had in ages,” You say. “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Everyone really liked you,” He says, stretching. “Normally, they take a while to warm up to people, but you clicked.”

You duck your head to hide a blush. “Well, thank you.”

“No need, I hope you’re liking Denver.”

“It’s amazing,” You tell him. “And I’m lucky I like the team.”

“You’re an Avs fan now, eh?” He says, sitting next to you on the sofa.

You blush, “I guess now.”

“Even from Vancouver?” He raises an eyebrow skeptically.

You bite your lip, “I have enough love in my heart for two teams.”

And he laughs. “Don’t worry, I was raised as an Oilers fan. But the Avalanche has a high conversion rate.”

“Don’t blame ‘em,” You yawn. “I’m going to enjoy sleeping in tomorrow. But feel free to let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.” 

And once you’re in your room, you allow yourself five seconds of a happy dance. What a day.

+

As the seasons of hockey and winter move through February and March, Tyson finds that he and you have really found a groove. You’re really good about knowing what LJ wants. He kind of wishes you were stricter about things like bedtime and no fast food, but LJ has the power to be manipulative with her big brown eyes and adorable laugh, even with her limited vocabulary. He can’t blame you one bit. 

He comes back from a game earlier than he originally told you, hoping to catch LJ still awake. One of his favorite things is putting her to bed, because it’s such a gentle time. She, like her father, hates waking up, but loves falling asleep. 

He enters the apartment quietly, just in case Y/N has put LJ to sleep. Instead, he hears music playing, loud, fun rock music. 

Tyson pauses. He can’t fathom you throwing a party, especially with LJ in the apartment and especially without telling him beforehand. It had never come up, but you’re normally good about discussing roommate situations with him.

He’s about to call for you over the din but sees you immediately in the kitchen, jamming to Journey’s Only the Young. 

Your moves aren’t Broadway-worthy, but they’re free as you move throughout the kitchen. He ducks back a bit as you move to pick up LJ, and you sing along. 

“Only the young can say

They're free to fly away

Sharing the same desires

Burning like wildfire”

Tyson wonders if this is the most fun he’s ever seen you have. You had a great time at the party weeks ago, and at the several parties since, but he could tell you still were nervous. He’d been careful to make sure not to drink around you either, even when he wanted to pop open a cold one with JT or Cale. You still hadn’t told him what’s up with that, but he doesn’t need to know. 

Even though the curiosity hasn’t died down.

Feeling a bit like a creep for just watching you, he steps out. But you’re using LJ as an air-guitar, he can hear her shrieks of laughter, and you don’t seem to see him.

“Y/N?” He tries to call over the music.

You freeze, LJ still in guitar-position. “Oh, hi,” You greet, a blush igniting your cheeks.

“Journey?” He asks.

You nod, but before you can say anything, LJ makes grabby hands for him. “Da! Da!” 

“Hello, LJ,” He greets, taking his daughter in his arms. Y/N turns down the music from her speakers. “Did you have a good day, sweetheart?”

“Yah!” She says. “Love you!” 

Tyson nearly double takes, “That’s a new one.” Warmth encompasses his entire chest.

“Love you!” She repeats, bouncing excitedly.

“We’ve been practicing,” Y/N says, a bit sheepish. “For a while it was ‘lah u’. But she’s a fast learner.” 

Tyson cuddles LJ close. “Amazing! I love you too.”

She squishes his cheeks together so his lips are pursed, so he kisses her nose. She shrieks a giggle. 

“Someone’s not tired,” He gives you a look. 

“You’re early,” You say a bit defensively, but you don’t look pissed. With nearly three months working together, you two know how to handle each other. “Besides, she wanted a concert with dinner.” 

Tyson looks at the clock on the microwave. Y/N’s right, LJ’s barely late with dinner, it’s still pretty early.

“What you got?”

“Pasta for her, but I was gonna order pizza,” You say. 

Tyson thinks of the fact he doesn’t have a game tomorrow, just a workout and practice, and says, “I’ll join you, if that’s okay.”

“Sure,” You say with a playful grin. “As long as you join the concert.”

Tyson goes to say no, but LJ’s clapping again. “Music!” That’s one of her new words that Y/N taught a bit ago. “Love you!”

“Well, I know when I’m outnumbered,” He says, and dances with the two of you as you turn the music up again. 

Tag List: @sticknpuckwtheboys​

Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought and if you’d like a part three!

[xazz]

Moth Wings 5

Pairing: AltMal, Altair+Desmond Rating: Explicit Tags: vampires, romance, servant AU, music AU, fluff, angst, flangst Status: WIP

Double update bc it’s a spooky story for a spooky period of time :,)

Also now tumblr has access to the first full chapter of Moth Wings that Patreon has already enjoyed for a while now. If you wanna get ahead it’s all available on Patreon which you can find on my main blog.

--

The next day Altair only played the violin quietly. He didn’t want Malik to hear and Desmond liked the music. Malik didn’t bother him that day, or the next, thankfully.

His hand strength was increasing now. And he was starting to develop callouses on his fingers again. Thankfully. It made playing easier.

It didn’t get him any closer to getting Desmond to talk. When Desmond wanted music he mimed playing the violin. That wouldn’t do. He needed to get Desmond to start talking. He needed to show progress to the mistress and master. That he was doing right by them. That he wasn’t fucking up their son. Of course he also bitterly thought if they were really worried about the state of their son’s development they should be the one raising him!

Altair had taken to playing the lullaby each night now to Desmond. He sat on the bed with the violin as Desmond lay under the covers. He mimed playing. “No,” Altair said. “If you want me to play you ask, with words.” Desmond frowned. “I know you understand me, Des. If you want me to play you a lullaby you need to ask me.”

Desmond scowled at him and mimed again that he wanted Altair to play. “I’m not going to play unless you use words, Desmond.”

Desmond scowled and rolled onto his side, pouting. Altair didn’t leave yet. “Just ask me to play, and I’ll play all night if you want,” he stroked the boy’s hair gently.

Desmond sat up. His mouth worked and then in a very bad way went, “Altear plaw.”

Altair’s eyes widened. “Play? You want me to play?”

“Plaw,” Desmond said and mimed using the bow. “Plaw, plaw.”

“Okay. I’ll play,” and he tucked Desmond back into bed. “Thank you for using your words,” he said, holding onto the hem of the blanket. “Using our words gets things we want, see?”

“Yeas,” Desmond said. “Plaw.”

“I will. You’re such a good boy,” and he kissed Desmond on the forehead. Then he sat up and took up the violin and started to play the lullaby. Even just the few days his hands were more deft and sure than they had been the first time he played. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sound of the song washing over him, reminding him of being a child himself. In his bed Desmond yawned and Altair kept playing. He played it a few times and at the end of the last bar hung onto the last note, letting it fade slowly into the air around them and opened his eyes. Desmond was sound asleep, curled up under the covers.

Altair got up and put the violin away. He always took it back to his closet room with him every night. He liked having it near. It reminded him of his father. Of his life outside the castle.

He closed the door softly and when he turned around his heart was in his throat. Malik was leaning against the wall just next to the door. “Ah, sir, did you need anything?” Altair stammered stupidly, looking down at his chest and not his face but at least not looking at the ground.

He flinched when Malik put a finger under his chin, making him look up. “Just a bit higher,” he said nicely.

Altair swallowed, “Can I do something for you?”

“Yes,” Malik stood up properly and Altair really wished he’d just leave him alone. “Come with me.” Altair did follow and was glad Malik had turned away so he could avert his eyes. He didn’t lead Altair to his room but to another room. A bigger room. A ballroom perhaps? Altair had never been in here. A small couch had been brought into the middle of the ballroom. Malik went and sat on it and Altair was destined to stand before him. He started to get nervous, his hands trembling. “Play for me,” he said.

“What?” Altair choked.

“Play for me. I’ve heard you practicing. Let’s hear you now,” Malik reclined into the back of the couch.

“Ah- alright,” he put the violin case down and pulled the instrument out, retightening the loose bow. He swallowed and put the violin under his chin. He needed to think of something. He closed his eyes to try and think of some music. Anything. Something came after a few seconds, piercing through the panic. It was an up beat song but not very quick so he could keep up with the tempo. He used to play it a lot during festival days with other string players. It was a song for spring and reminded Altair of flittering butterflies.

The sound filled the ballroom, the high ceilings and marble floor creating perfect acoustics for the sound. It made it sound like there were five players in the room and not just Altair. He opened his eyes to look around the room he’d never been, his hands knowing the song well enough to not need his supervision. It was a high vaulted room with beautifully painted walls and a place to sit along the sides. And while spectacular wasn’t really of interest to Altair. The dining room was as magnificent and he saw that every day.

His eyes eventually rested on Malik sitting in the sofa and he was watching intently. It made him faulter and Altair lost tempo, his fingers scattering across the neck awkwardly. He blushed, looked away, and pulled himself together. He looked back at Malik and Malik was just enraptured by the playing. He wasn’t anywhere as good as he used to be but Malik didn’t know that. To him this was the height of how you played this instrument.

Finally the song ended and Altair lowered the bow. Malik clapped, smiling widely. “That was marvelous. Absolutely fantastic,” he said brightly.

“Thank you,” Altair said humbly.

“What’s your name?”

Altair wasn’t sure why he was surprised Malik didn’t know his name but he was. He supposed it would have appeared beneath him to ask the masters the name of their human nanny. “Altair,” he said, “Altair Luthier.”

“Such a name hardly belongs here in the mountains like this,” Malik said. “Is your family from here?”

“Yes, sir,” he nodded. “Five generations.”

“And before that?”

“I... I don’t know,” he admitted.

“You look different from the other humans in the town,” Malik remarked.

“Yes. My family and some others in the valley are darker skinned,” he admitted.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Apologies,” Altair bowed, “Your driver named you when you first arrived but I forgot most of it. I know you’re the master’s guest, Malik,” he apologized.

Malik chuckled. “It is a mouthful for you so far north, I don’t blame you for forgetting. I am a member of the Sunfaire coven far to the south. William and I are... well friend is such a strong word among our kind. He and I have an understanding. I am visiting for a time.”

Altair wasn’t sure why he was being told this. But the vampire wanted to converse with him. How odd. “Is there a reason? If he’s not your friend then why would you come here? Especially as it will be winter soon and the winters are frigid here.”

Malik smiled slightly. “Yes. I have heard. But there is unrest in my homeland. I disagree with the direction of my coven and how they are dealing with the unrest. So I took myself out of the picture until it is over.”

“Oh. How long will that be?”

“Who knows? A year? Five years? A generation? Humans have such a hard time letting go of their petty squabbles. Now play something else for me.”

“Alright,” Altair said slowly. He brought the violin back up, thought about what to play and decided to just do the lullaby with some flourish. The lullaby made him feel better as much as Desmond. But he added a bit more to it. A pitch change, a tempo shift, the rearrangement of some notes. The familiar song made him feel more at ease even with Malik watching him so closely.

Malik didn’t stop him and he just kept playing. Eventually leaving the lullaby melody for something else. Just something his fingers did without much thought. But he didn’t let it get sad like he had a few days ago. The music soothed him and even though he was the one playing it he felt himself being lulled to sleep by the music. He was also very tired. Playing with Desmond and practicing all day made him so tired. He hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in years it felt like.

A hand grabbed his wrist and he realized he was about to fall over. “Oh— uh—“ he felt very foolish at Malik holding his wrist. “Apologies. I uh— I almost nodded off there,” he flushed in embarrassment.

Malik didn’t scold him or even seem upset. “I suppose it is well past sunrise.” He delicately took the bow out of Altair’s hand, loosened it, and put it in the case. He took the violin as well and closed it in its soft lined case. Then he picked the case up but didn’t offer it to Altair. “I will carry it for you,” he said and motioned for Altair to go. He was mortified. A vampire? Carrying his violin?

“N-no, I can do it,” he tried to reach for it.

Malik just put a hand on his chest. “You’ve provided me with beautiful music tonight. It is the least I can do is carry a bit of weight before you go to bed.”

Altair didn’t know what to do and felt trapped. Eventually he just nodded and headed for his closet. Malik followed behind. “You play so well. Does the coven know you play?”

“I don’t think so,” Altair said.

“A pity,” Malik scoffed. “Or maybe for the better. I get to enjoy it all on my own without their racket,” he chuckled. “Well, of course, me and Desmond.”

Altair just laughed awkwardly. “I can take it now,” he said outside his door and held his hand out for the case.

“This is where you sleep?” Malik’s brow furrowed even as he surrendered the case. The door wasn’t like the other doors in the castle to everyone else’s rooms. 

“Ah, yes. Thank you,” he bowed. He waited for Malik to leave but the vampire didn’t. “Uh?” he looked up and Malik was just standing there. “Aren’t you also going to go to sleep, Malik?”

“I’m a polite guest. It’s rude to leave before someone you walk home has gone inside,” Malik said. Altair looked at him, shrugged, and opened his door. He was surprised when Malik put his hand on the door before he could close it.  “This is where you sleep?” Malik asked again, sharper this time.

“Ah? Yes?” Altair said, swallowing, trying not to cower.

Malik said something in another language, he sounded very annoyed. He looked down upon Altair’s little cot shoved into the corner and the tiny stool and water jug and basin. Then he looked at Altair. “No wonder you’re asleep on your feet.”

“I was very busy today,” Altair said.

“You’re sleeping on a board with a furred rug over it and no pillow,” Malik said it out loud and Altair looked down, humiliated. He didn’t like to think of it like that. “I don’t know how William and Kaley expect you to look after their son in a state like this.” He seemed genuinely angry about it. “In my coven we’d never allow the humans to stay in such a place. Oh I am having words with them,” he growled.

“No, please don’t,” Altair grabbed his arm. “The mistress already treats me so coldly, please don’t speak to her of this.”

Malik’s black eyes were narrowed. “You deserve better than this, even if you are a human,” Malik said. “Even the cattle are more well off.”

That rattled in Altair’s skull. “What?” he asked softly.

“Have you ever been to the cellar?”

“No. I’m not allowed down there,” Altair said just above a whisper.

“They have beds, and chairs, and places to sit comfortably in their confinement. Hell they even have space for things, personal items and entertainment. They haven’t even graced you with a shelf,” he motioned angrily to the closet. “What have they told you it was like down there?” Altair repeated the words the Matron had told him often. “Hah. Hardly. This coven hasn’t hunted fresh food in decades because they take good care of their livestock. They keep them well fed and fat. I’ve seen what you eat. Cold food you bring from the town. I’m sure they wonder why you even go there when they bring hot food up here every day to the outer cellar door for the humans. Mocking them like the food they bring isn’t good enough?

“No. I will certainly be speaking with William and Kaley of this because this is unacceptable. Even my servants have their own shared rooms thrice as big as this and only two people sleep in it,” he motioned to the room angrily again.

Altair was about to have a break down. He let go of Malik and was just sitting on his cot, staring at him. He’d suffered this place for three years, taking care of that horrible pulsating chrysalis and then their little son and they acted like a closet and providing him a small amount of money to buy his own food was a kindness. First he’d been forced to leave his home, his life, his livlihood, and now this came to light? He put a hand over his face and cried.

Malik stepped into the closet and knelt by him. “Altair?”

“Please sir, just go away,” he said thickly.

“Yes but-

“I wish to be alone. Please. Allow me that,” he looked at Malik with tearful eyes. 

Malik looked stricken. He didn’t even react when Malik reached up to wipe away his tears. “I think you’ve been alone enough,” he said nicely. “And I don’t want to leave you here. You don’t deserve to sleep here another night.”

“Where else would I go?” Altair asked with a mad smile. “The garden? I’ll just sleep under the rose bushes huh?”

“Not quite what I had in mind, no,” Malik said. “But there is an extra bed in my chambers.”

“Wh-what? No. No I couldn’t,” Altair said quickly.

“I insist.”

“But-

“Altair,” he said with some impatience. “I know William has told you to obey any vampire in this castle, yes?” He nodded. “Well, I am one. So you will obey,” he said sternly.

“I don’t wish to intrude-

“Get up,” Malik stood. Altair hesitated but did stand. Malik pushed him out of the closet and stalked him down the hall back to the hall where his and Desmond’s quarters were. Altair wrung his hands the entire time nervously, nearly wringing the skin clean off. Malik opened the door and bullied him inside. “You can sleep here,” he said, showing Altair to the bedroom.

“W-what? No. I couldn’t. That’s your bed. I couldn’t push you out of that.”

“You can,” Malik said. “I have my slab,” he pointed to the sarcophagus in the corner of the room. “It’s really quite comfortable. You won’t be putting me out.”

“Yes but-

“Altair,” he spoke over his nervous prattling. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Last night,” Altair said dumbly.

“Really slept. Slept well? Got an honest to goodness real night sleep where you didn’t wake up as exhausted the night before? Hmm?”

Altair didn’t answer at first. But they both knew the answer. “Since I came here,” he said softly.

“I thought as much. Now please. You do a hard, thankless, task, you deserve a good’s night sleep. Now I am insisting you take my bed for the night.”

Altair still hesitated. But Malik didn’t seem a bad sort. And he seemed genuinely angry about the closet. He was being genuine. “Alright,” he finally said.

“Good,” and Malik put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry your only interaction with vampires has been this coven,” he growled. “I assure you, we aren’t all like this. Most of us appreciate our human workers. This is why William and I have an understanding, but he is not my friend.”

“Oh. Thank you,” he bowed because he didn’t know what else to do. “You’ve been... very kind to me.”

“Only what you deserve,” Malik grunted. Then he released Altair and went to the sarcophagus. He removed his night coat and stretched out his arms and his glass-like strangely insectoid wings unfurled from his spine to also stretch out, straining to their full length. Altair had only ever seen Desmond’s tiny, useless wings. He’d never seen an adult vampire’s full wings. They were colored on the back like a moth or butterfly. Then they curled back up against Malik’s back and he climbed into the sarcophagus, closing the lid without another word.

That just left Altair in the bedroom of a vampire. He swallowed and took off some of his clothes. Just so he wasn’t sleeping fully dressed but more dressed than he’d usually sleep. Then he carefully sat on the bed, watching the sarcophagus like Malik would climb back out and call him a fool for believing such things and throw him out. But Malik didn’t. Altair inched his way further onto the bed and under the covers. They were the softest, most luxurious sheets he’d ever felt in his life. Even with the comforter he felt cool under them. And the pillows were great and plush, cradling his head gently.

Altair sank into the softness with a content sigh, eyes closing. He opened them enough to turn the lamp on the bedside table off before he closed his eyes. He slept better than he had in years.

[cottagecore-peach]

hii peaches !! hope u're doing very very very well !! sending lots of love thru the screen !!!

so. i ended up buying stardew valley a few days ago !! and boyyyy did i not regret it,, i've been playing it a whole lot these past few days since purchasing it + specifically just spent something like. the last two hours playing it hhjshshjs it's just !! so calming n sweet !! i'll admit i've been struggling a lil bit with getting the hang of all the farming + just generally how stuff works around town but !! it's only the eleventh day so it's expected hhsjshhsm

but !! oh my god there's so much stuff to do + people to meet.... all of the villagers r so lovely just !! hhghn i wanna befriend,, all of em,,, i've paticularly liked maru (nerdy wife !! nerdy wife !!) + abigail + the guys also seem v v lovely,,, which r ur fav ones ?? any tips on who to talk to ??

and yeah !! i thought i'd drop an update & ask u if you have any tips + advice on getting started on the first few days of the game !! i thank u so much for having encouraged me to buy it bc. i am loving it very very much !! so thank u !! mwah !!

-oak 💌❣️ (yoga anon !! decided to use a name bc. signing yoga anon feels v v weird since i haven't done it basically since the first time i sent an ask ksjsjjksjjs and oak is my farmer's name !! might be mine !! i am choosing a name for myself lately so. that's why i'm not sure asksjjsm lots of love !!)

HELLO omg i’m so thrilled to finally know know you!!! i can’t lie tho, i could tell it was u from how u type (is that weird?? it feels weird)

anyway i’m super stoked to hear that my sales pitch was successful!! and yes, there are definitely some tips that make farming easier (and some items that you unlock later in the game too) so if you have any questions send me an ask or a message!

characters i like: i LOVE haley. love her to pieces. she’s so pretty. she’s so mean but i can’t help but be like 😍😍😍(don’t psychoanalyze me pls). i also like shane... again, don’t psychoanalyze me. their GROWTH is just *chef’s kiss* i also love linus, he’s such a sweetie. and both the kids!!! they’re so nice once they warm up to you and, as someone who loves kids, it makes my heart burst.

if you’re on day 11 that means the egg festival is coming up soon?? make sure u buy a couple packs of strawberry seeds. you can either sell them for big moneys (they’re the most profitable spring crop i believe) OR you can save them for your nerd wife!!! they’re one of her favourite gifts!

the name oak is v v cute and i also changed my name a few months ago!! seeing characters in stardew refer to me as [chosen name] makes my heart go 💓💓💓 everytime

anyway it was lovely to hear from u again and PLS message me about the game whenever u want, i’m definitely annoying my friends with how much i talk about it oops

[moneymingyu]

[cw: talks of death, drinking]

Mingyu has this faint memory of a boy with dark, shaggy hair running around at the park him and his father used to go to. He would always be wearing his backpack, obvious to everyone that he came straight here after school, and would be chasing butterflies or catching ladybugs.

On one of the days where Mingyu’s dad would throw the ball a little too far to teach the boy how to jump up and catch, it rolled away and landed in front of a pair of scuffed sketchers.

“Hey, sorry!” Mingyu remembers saying, cheeks red from chasing the ball down. His father is standing a distance away behind him, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun and the other on his hip.

“S’accident,” the other mutters shyly, bending down to pick up the baseball.

Mingyu loved to make friends as a child which is why the next thing out of his mouth is “I’m Mingyu! Kim Mingyu!” The other boy’s front tooth is missing and he remembers that because he peaks his tongue peaks out through the gap.

He cocks his head to the side, a sly smile creeping across his cheeks. “Names Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook! But my sister is only four and she doesn’t know how to say it so she calls me Kookie.”

“My dad calls me Gyu,” Mingyu laughed. “He only calls me Mingyu is when I’m in trouble.”

“Well Gyu,” Jungkook hands him back the ball. “You must be joining the little league, huh?”

“Little league?” Mingyu raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah!” Jungkook’s eyes were wide with excitment. “My brother has this kid in his class named Ten—like the number—and he asked Wonwoo hyung if he wanted to play but he’d rather stay inside so he told me to come play with the kids my age but I dunno how to play since my dad’s always busy and hyung hates sports since he’s kinda lazy and slow like a sloth and—“

“You talk a lot,” Mingyu smiled. He liked that. His dad always called him a motor mouth because he could talk his ear off and at five, he thought it’d be fun to have someone to keep up with him. “Wanna come play with me and my dad?”

“Uh, duh!” Jungkook jumped up, racing Mingyu to the older man, who had resided under the oak tree with a bottle of water.

From that Friday on, Jungkook would play baseball with Mingyu and his dad. They later joined the little league baseball team together (though that only lasted one season before Mingyu decided soccer was more of his thing).

Now, every time Mingyu comes back to this park, he can’t help but think of Jeon Jungkook, the boy with kind eyes and a bright smile.

-

Mingyu still has fond memories of Jungkook whenever he comes to this park. Though, they’re a bit fuzzy around the edges, he stil finds himself laughing at all of their mishaps and hiccups that took place on this grass. And every time he looks at Pumpkin, he cant help but see his face.

“And then Jungkook hit a home run and Yugyeom and I smashed cupcakes in his face to celebrate,” Mingyu whispers to the girl who sits a distance away from him.

Her face is blank, eyes unreadable. Mingyu scans the bags under her eyes and the way her brows have furrowed and thinks “When did Hobag get the chance to grow up?”

He still remembers when she was a kid. When she’d come to all of Jungkook’s baseball games and hearing her scream for “Kookie” or ask “Nu” to take her to buy some snacks at the concessions stands. He still remembers her being a freshman in high school and how she and Seungkwan would trail after him and Wonwoo with whispered secrets and wild ideas for the four of them to partake in.

He still remembers the last day he saw her. The day that he was too coward to say goodbye to her and Wonwoo and left on the train earlier than they knew. He remembers the ignored calls and texts and how they soon fizzled out to every day to every couple of days to once a week until they finally stopped.

He doesn’t deserve this.

“The other night,” she whispers as if she could read Mingyu’s mind, “I had a dream.” She runs her finger over the polaroid. Mingyu realizes then that this is the first time she’s seen Jungkook’s face since she was 12. How cruel is this life? “In the dream, I hit a home run. The following day,” she flashes the picture in Mingyu’s direction, “you find this.”

It’s a sign, Mingyu knows that’s what she’s thinking.

“I’m not going to ask you why you left the way you did. It’s been five years and I spent way too much time stressing over it — especially since you welcomed Seungkwan with open arms. That dream...had to be mean something.” She runs her fingers through her hair and shakes her head. “It had to be a sign from Jungkook.”

“Hobag,” Mingyu whispers as he sees the tears spring from her eyes. “I am so sorry—“

“I told you,” she wipes her tears away a bit too harshly with her sleeve. “I don’t want to hear it.” Mingyu frowns and nods, leaning back onto the oak tree. “I don’t forgive you for what you did, Mingyu. I don’t forgive you for hurting my brother,” she shakes her head. “But...before I went to bed that night, I asked Jungkook to send me a sign on what I should do next.” Her eyes rake over the picture once more before she says, “And I guess that means to let you back in.”

“You don’t have to,” Mingyu whispers. “I fucked up, Hobag. I didn’t know what I was thinking and I’m sorry but—“

“I told you I don’t want to hear it,” the younger groans.

“But I am,” he says.

“Mingyu,” she breathes, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “Have you learned nothing? Life is too short to be angry.”

Mingyu feels dizzy at her words.

That night. The last words between Jungkook and Wonwoo. The fire.

“I’ll be here now,” Mingyu tells her. “I promise.” He finally crosses the boundaries and pulls her into a hug, her tears finally flowing freely.

“I miss him,” she hiccups into his chest.

“Me too,” Mingyu frowns. “I miss them both. So much.”

They stay like that until all of their cheeks are dry and Mingyu wipes away the last tear. He smiles sadly at her, chuckling when he remembers just how much of a crier she was when they were younger.

“If someone told me last week I’d be doing this again, I would’ve laughed in their face,” Mingyu says as he swipes his sleeve under her eyes one last time.

“I would’ve passed out,” she snorts.

Mingyu leans back onto the oak tree again and sighs. It’s chilly outside and it’s dark out. “Isn’t Wonwoo going to look for you?” he asks.

“Seungcheol is over right now. They’re making amends,” she explains.

“Seungcheol?” Mingyu’s eyes are closed now, listening to the wind as it whistles past him.

“He’s one of Wonwoo’s best friends. Seungcheol had a fall out with their third friend Jeonghan and it made Wonwoo upset. Last I checked, they were cuddling so,” she shrugs even though Mingyu can’t see.

“Jeonghan?” he opens his eyes. “Is that the guy you were with in town?”

She furrows her brows, looking at him with confusion before she remembers the day he’s referring to. “So I did see you then!” He shrugs and closes his eyes again. “Gyu, you were here this entire time and you didn’t even tell Seungkwan?”

“I needed some time to think,” he says simply. “Is Jeonghan your boyfriend?”

“What?” she sputters. “What makes you— EW! You think I’m dating Yoon Jeonghan?”

“Oh?” Mingyu smirks as he realizes he’s successfully changed the subject. “Then maybe it’s Vernon? Woozi said he writes a bunch of songs about you.”

“Mingyu!” she smacks his arm. “I’m leaving. I almost forgot how annoying you were.”

She stands to her feet and brushes off blades of grass, ready to stomp off when Mingyu stops her again with the sound of his voice.

“The lanterns,” he says. She turns to him just as he stands. “Are you still making three?”

“Just because you weren’t here doesn’t mean we won’t make your dad a lantern,” she crosses her arms.

Mingyu isn’t surprised. Well, maybe that’s because he’s had a couple of days to simmer into the fact that they still visit his late father’s grave. But, it still makes him smile — even if he feels sad inside.

The lanterns started on the first anniversary of Jungkook’s death.

Jungkook had always been in love with the stars and could name thirty constellations before he could do long division. Because of this, the Jeon family would make lanterns and send them off on his anniversary. When Mingyu became a part of their friend group, he and Seungkwan would each make one for his dad and send it off with them.

“Do you think—“

“I’ll talk to Wonwoo,” she cuts him off. “But you have to remember that this time of year is super hard for him, Gyu.”

He nods. It’s totally understandable. If your best friend just up and left you without a word— “Did you just call me Gyu?”

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” she says, turning on her heel.

“You only call me Gyu whenever you’re not mad at me,” he says. Pumpkin doesn’t turn around this time. Instead, she keeps walking until he comes to his senses. “Wait! Hobag! I’ll give you a ride! Dammit, slow down! I can’t believe it’s been five years and we’re still having this argument! You can’t go home by yourself you could get robbed—“

And she keeps walking, feeling at ease for the first time in a very long time.

Chapter Ten: Not Enough

Summary: If home is where the heart is, then the hearts of Kim Mingyu and the Jeon siblings must lie within the stars. Maybe that’s why the always feel so out of place. Maybe that’s why Mingyu left town and never turned back. Maybe that’s why the Jeon siblings can’t leave this town. Maybe this time, the stars will align and things might start actually making sense.

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master list

a/n: junhao should have their own spin off bc skskks.

a/n 2: what drama do you guys want to see first?

a/n 3: i have final exams next week so i might be slow to update! please bare with me for the time being!!!

[jawllines]

vamp harry vamp harry vamp harry but aLSO i saw an anon suggested a super cute update from the tattoo h fic where they get into a fight and yn doesn’t talk to him and h is all sad and pouty bc he just wants a cuddle now and realized he’s wrong and I NEED THAT now pls

YOU KNOW I ACTUALLY FORGOT TO POST THE WEDDING BLURB DIDN’T I? I WILL POST IT UNDER THE CUT

“Harry when’s the last time you went to a wedding?”

“1840.” Harry answered without a second thought, frowning down at the carrot he was chopping.

Y/N doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to that, no matter how many times he mentions the various years in which he was inhabiting a spot on the planet when Y/N’s grandparents weren’t even a glimmer in their own parent’s eyes. Understandably, this quick response caught her off guard, her brows dipping downward and a gaze overwrought with confusion as she wiggled herself in her spot on the counter, “Whose?”

“Queen Victoria and Prince Albert; I wore a beautiful tailored original flared frock coat -- reckon m’the one who brought it into style, everyone gives Albert the bloody credit -- and my date wore this gorgeous silk satin off the shoulder dress,” he takes a look to her, “Not a real date mind you, her father paid me a lump some of money to take her with me so she could get courted and sadly my little human wasn’t there to accompany me.” He runs his finger down the sides of the blade, swiping off any diced carrot that clung to it down to the cutting board, “Lovely reception, I stole a dance with her.”

Y/N grins, seeing him smiling fondly at the thought of it and she’s positively elated. She’d been rather nervous to bring a wedding up to him -- not because she wanted one herself, no, at least not right now. However, she got a costly parchment paper invitation to her friend Caroline from Sophomore year film studies (one of those where they were really close then, and they simply just fell out of touch apart from a spontaneous conversation every now and again) wedding. She figures because she’d been the person to set them up with limited help from Niall who was more concerned with the fact that he hadn’t lost his virginity at the time so “Why should I help someone else get their dick wet, huh?” But it had worked out well. She always liked their pictures together and felt a small glimmer of pride when she saw that they were still together since she was the matchmaker of the century.

“Welllllll, we were invited to a wedding! Minus the frock coats though,” he slides the carrots from the cutting board into a bowl so he could add it all together and mix it, “Plus, I haven’t gotten to get a new dress for anything in a long while and I’m kinda itching to spend money on something cute.”

Harry turns to face her, that permanent furrow planted deep in his brow, “I bloody hate weddings.” He stated plainly and Y/N’s face warps to match his own.

“What?” She nearly cries out, “But you just said --”

“There’s a reason the last wedding I went to was 1840, Little human.” He shakes his head, moving to chopped carrots to the broccoli, diced onions, ginger root, halved green beans, ginger root and garlic; he was making her a Ginger Veggie Stir-fry (he’s still very much pro-health considering the turmoil he puts her body through when he drinks from her, and she had a particularly shitty dinner of ordered in greasy, cheese pizza the night prior considering Harry had been working late and those are her only cheat days) and he was being quite diligent. It was the first time he was making it so it was probably a bad idea springing this on him while he was in his chef state of mind (because nothing matters as much as his dishes when he’s cooking). “The ceremonies are long and drawn out, the vows are contrived, you’re expected to stay for the reception and dance and eat the disgusting excuse for a mass produced dinner.” He shakes his head, the thought of it absurd in his mind, “Human weddings are meaningless; they divorce just as quick as they enter them most of the time. All that time and money wasted for what? A piece of paper? It’d made me irate before but now that I know what true love is with you, it only makes me angrier that they try to prove their love with that.”

Though his last statement had brought her cheeks warm and rendered her heart a bit mushy, she could feel herself deflate immensely. She couldn’t force him to an event that he didn’t want to attend -- he never made her accompany him to the two hour long meetings he was often stuck in, how could she make him come with her? It was long and albeit beautiful, the ceremony was rather boring, and the receptions could either be really fun or terrible, and the wedding cake -- god, you have to pray that they didn’t spend hundreds on something that tasted grocery store quality at best. But she hadn’t been to one in so long and there was some part of her that secretly loved them, even if she didn’t technically participate as anything but a face for the bridesmaid’s to look out at when they were trying to keep their mind off their cramping feet. She supposes that she could go with her friends or tag along with Niall and his date, but neither would be as fun as she thinks it would be with Harry, no matter his grumpy nature.

“Regardless of my distaste for them, I will attend with you,” he adds a few moments after his initial tirade and Y/N looks up, a new light in her step when she realizes he is looking at her, “I’m interested in how they have changed over time, and I don’t like when you look disheartened by something I’ve said. Wipe that sad little pout of your mouth my love.”

She sucks her bottom lip back into her mouth, biting down on a smile, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to though -- don’t want to force you into it.”

Harry pauses his cooking, walking towards where she sits on the counter and parting her legs for him to fit between, hands remaining on her thighs, “Would going to this wedding make you happy?” He inquires and when she nods, he strokes her skin with his thumbs, the metal of his rings coaxing goosebumps to the surface, “Then I will go. Little human, if you are happy, I am happy, however I do request you let me feed from the tender flesh of your thigh as my repayment for enduring such an interminable proclamation of human love. And that you do not make me dance.”

Y/N agrees to both happily, grinning wide and slipping her arms around his neck, peppering kisses onto his cheeks in rapid succession, “You can suck me dry through my thighs if you want to! And no dance floor shenanigans, promise.”

She had her fingers crossed around his head though -- she could get him on the dancefloor she bets.

Harry allows her kisses before puckering his own lips, and Y/N pushes their mouths together. It only lasts but a moment though, because Harry slips from her hold and pats on her thighs, “Now get off the counter, I need the space for the rest of the food.”

                                                     .                           .                          .

The day of the wedding, Y/N woke up at 7AM to an already showered and partially dressed Harry fixing up the buttons on his white blouse. Perhaps she was a bit melodramatic, since the wedding didn’t start until 10AM and they were maybe just a half hour away from the venue, but she scrambled from the bed. “Why didn’t you wake me?” She had cried out, trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes and detangle from the cotton sheets spread over her bed, “We’re g’na be late!”

“You told me not to wake you until 7:05.” He had reminded her, “I woke early so that you would have ample space and time in the shower.”

She pauses on her way to the bathroom because she remembers this very distantly and the fact that he had woken earlier than needed to get ready himself, makes her reroute to where he stood in front of her mirror. Kissed him quickly, murmured a quick, “Thank you, love you,” as her apology for panicking, before she scattered to back to the bathroom. In a haste she showers, shaves, lotions up, washes her face, brushes her teeth, and does her hair in the course of forty minutes. She walks out of her bathroom to be met with Harry taking her dress from where it hung freshly pressed on the door (he’d insisted on it, even if it was just a floaty floral number), holding it until she could pull up a pair of underwear on and wrestle with a bra.

“Slow down,” he commands gently when she rushes to grab the dress from him, holding it just out of her reach, “We have plenty time, Little human, we’re not the ones getting married.”

Which -- well, that was true, she supposes. Something about having an event to go to makes her a little jittery, moving too quickly and rushing; it’s like homecoming and prom all over again, only this time she had a vampire boyfriend who was incredible at handling stressful moments, carefully helping her into her dress. He took a glittery necklace he’d bought her from her jewelry dish atop of her dresser, and slid it around her throat and clipped the two ends together. A vampire boyfriend who also sweetly reminded her to take her iron supplement because, “Tonight, m’getting between those thighs lovely.”

The drive was alright; there was some traffic and she’d been worried when she saw how backed up the highway had been, but they got there forty minutes before the ceremony and secured a spot near the front where Niall had saved them seats. Harry entertained her with stories of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, and also trying to act as human-like as he can when they have any sort of interaction with the people around them. Like when Y/N spots another old friend (Adaline) sat in front of them and they begin chatting, catching up some at where they were in life, and who the men sitting beside them were. She’d  made the comment, “What do you guys think of the venue? It’s lovely.”

Harry had answered unprompted, as he hadn’t really spoken much in their conversation other than, “It isn’t St. James Palace, but I suppose it’s fine. Hope she can stand up to the likes of Queen Victoria.”

Y/N’s eyes had widened, a dribble of panic slipping down her spine because she wasn’t ready to give the fake “he reads history books in his free time” explanation that he’d given Niall over Harry’s outlandish comments, but she doesn’t have to. Adaline only laughs, shaking her head and pointed her finger at Y/N, “Course you would find someone with the same sense of humor as you, lucky dog. Adam can never tell when m’joking or not.”

She has to pretend that she isn’t concerned that her joking sounds like Harry’s very serious tone but merely patted Harry’s thigh, giving it a loving squeeze, and when she looks to him he is smiling to himself. He rather enjoyed when people found him funny, and what he enjoyed even more, was Y/N trying to dig their way out of a ditch he’d begun digging them.

The ceremony was beautiful; Caroline looked stunning in her dress, a proper gown embellished with beading and lace appliques fitted to her torso and fanning out into the longest train Y/N doesn’t think she’s seen in real life before. Harry held her hand during the duration of it and swipes away the tear that had beaded to her eye when they began reading their vows and the groom got choked up. Even pulled her close to him, and despite his previous adversity to weddings, this one seemed to be getting him a bit mushy himself. She reckons if they hadn’t been in public, he would have purred for her as he’s so fond of doing when he’s feeling immense love for her.

Her reception was in the same building, so they only had to go a floor up to enter it. She met up with Niall and a few of their mutual friends, got to gush to Caroline about how beautiful the wedding was and how incredible she looked, and kept Harry at her side. He spoke when he was spoken to but otherwise he was quiet and when he’d ventured off to get them more champagne, Gina -- who also shared film studies with them -- leaned in, “He’s giving me strong Edward Cullen vibes, babe -- he moves, you move, silent probably broody type, definitely gorgeous,” she laughed as she continued, “Is he a vampire or something?”

Y/N’s blood ran cold when she forced a laugh, shaking her head letting a lie slip easily from her tongue, “No, no, just shy is all. He’s a bit of a writer so he likes observing people -- can characterize them better.”  

Niall snorts, taking a drink from his flute, “Shy until someone challenges his history knowledge, that’s for sure -- grade A smart lad has a damn book of information as a brain.”

Before they could say anymore, Harry reappeared with her drink, “They’re attacking the cake like vultures to a carcass, I think I may need to break an old woman’s finger to get a slice. Would you like one?”

She’d tricked him into dancing as well, locking their fingers and dragging him out to the floor in the middle, “You promised!” He protested but Y/N had already started moving side to side a little dramatically to get him to smile past his frown.

“Had my fingers crossed!” She let him know delightedly and after some coaxing and the whispered promise that she would throat him later (weddings made her all sorts of soppy and soft, which in turn made her an eensy bit greedy for Harry, and being greedy is simultaneous with cuddly and horny), she got him moving at least a little. She’d coached him through the Cha Cha Slide, had improvised a dance to Papa Loves Mambo, and serenaded him with a lovely rendition of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You. By the time the bride threw her bouquet (which Niall’s date had caught, Niall’s eyes widened comically, and Y/N decides then she’s going to tease his ass to shreds about it), Y/N was feeling the full effect of her champagne and Harry was gaining a contact high from her giddiness. Even the slow songs were nice, as Harry showed her how it’s done exactly (because she’d never been arsed to learn herself), and pulled out some moves that he remarked Queen Victoria would have blushed at (“Times were simpler then, my Love”).

The whole night was so enjoyable and fun and by the time that it was through, she doesn’t think either of them wanted to leave. “We should start crashing weddings,” Y/N had decided on their chilly walk back to the car around , just as Harry revealed a plate with another plate over the top of it that he’d been covering with his coat, “What’s that then?”

“I stole you cake,” he answered, taking off the top plate and showing the five slices that had been hidden, “You enjoyed it thoroughly and they were just going to throw it away but wouldn’t let me take the entire thing, so I took as many as would fit.”

Y/N might have never been more in love with him than she was in that moment.

On their way back, as they both cooled down from the excitement of the reception and Harry was navigating the post wedding traffic while Y/N nursed the stolen cakes in her hand, they were relatively quiet. Harry was worrying his lip between his teeth like he was thinking on something, and Y/N was too worn out to bother him about it until he opened up as she usually does. Though he told her soon enough, once they finally pulled off on the exit that would take them back home.

“I enjoyed that much more than I thought I would,” he told her truthfully and she smiled.

“Good.”

“I would enjoy if we had a big party,” he continued, and Y/N’s once drooping eyes shoot open, “Much like a wedding but without the ceremony, that was a bore. But a big party and we will invite many people and celebrate our love for one another. Would you be interested in that?”

Y/N’s soppy soft heart only gets soppier as she nods, reaching over so their hands locked where his rested on the middle console.

“I’d love that.”

                                      .                        .                     .

Once Harry and Y/N made it home, Y/N had taken what she believed to be a very well deserved nap in the passenger side, only waking to the gentle brush of his fingers to her cheek once they were parked, “Oh, sweet thing,” he’d hummed, “We’re home.” Harry was the best for waking people up, Y/N had decided long ago, because he’s nothing but sweet murmurs and soft caresses. When Niall woke her up in the mornings it was a plethora of pillow hitting and purported threats in the form of I swear to god, you little demon, I’ll write a love letter from you and give it to Professor Rollins. It was jarring and she was far undeserving of it (she only ever hit him will a pillow once and it was because he was already thirty minutes late) when she always wakes people up with careful shakes and promises of breakfast.

Harry is much sweeter towards her, coaxing her from her slumber with soft touches, peppered kisses against her cheek, murmuring pleasant words into her ear and nibbling at the lobe. It brings shivers down her spine and tickles goosebumps up her arms, to where she’s blinking her eyes open slow, adjusting to the light of the room and snuggling deeper into him. If it were a morning she had things to do, Harry would only appease her for a moment with back rubs and cuddles, “Wake up, little human,” he hummed sweetly, and when she replied she didn’t want to, he would assure her that as soon as she returned home they could nap together (which means Y/N will snore in his ear while Harry did whatever he did when she was sleeping and he wasn’t). If she had nothing to do, he would let her sleep in some but would tempt her with breakfast and smoothies.

So when she is reluctant to remove herself from the car, he’s as tender as he always is. Titters something she can’t quite make out before walking over to her side, reaching over to unbuckle her, before gathering her up in his arms. “Your species is such a sleep bunch,” he had commented, “Or maybe it's just my little human who is so tired?”

“Mhm,” she murmured, dipping her face into the column of his throat only then realising that he was carrying the cake plate with the hand of the arm tucked beneath her knees, “Still ready for you stuff me full of that big, thick —“ she begins to tease him but he cuts her off with a small pinch to her bum.

“Careful what you wish for, sweet thing,” he responded, not concerned in the slightest, “Haven’t been inside you for a while, might just split you in half.” He unlocks the door swiftly, twisting the knob and pushing it open, noticeably biting down on the inside of his lip when he feels Y/N shudder and nestle into him closer. She would very much like that, she decides, but she doesn’t think he will. One thing she had learned from him is that if he’s going to feed from her while and/or before they have sex, he prepares far before. The dinner he has is rich and full of nutrients, it’s not normally around a time in which she’s stressed, and it’s only if he’s sure she’s not too exhausted. Two of the three weren’t happening and she could feel from his grip that he was intending to feed from her as soon as they settle.

It’d been a while since he had fed from her; a few weeks at the very least. He didn’t enjoy doing it when she had finals to worry about so he had appeared to be pretty opposed to the fact, even though she continuously told him that it would be just fine if he did. So she knew he was starving -- parched for it -- and the tender flesh of the inside of her thighs, where the blood ran warm and his nose was tucked near another place he loved to frequent, she knew would be a treat after such a long period of wait.

Harry was brisk in his movements, setting the cake he’d taken down on the coffee table and almost immediately whisking her off to their bed. His pupils were blown a telling black that suggested his hungered state; it’s moments like this -- as he’s setting her down atop of the mattress, pushing the soft fabric of the dress up so it floated and fluttered around her hips with albeit precise coordination, eagerly -- that she remembers what he is. Not that him drinking her blood wasn’t its own telling indicator, but she often forgets that he is truly a whole different part of this world, one that nobody is quite aware of.

This should scare her. The way he pushes her thighs apart and settles happily in between, the dark of his eyes overshadowing the usual foamy, light green that they regularly were -- it should make her heart race out of fear that he might take it too far. Drain her of every ounce of blood until he’s satiated and full.

But she isn’t -- not in the slightest, because not only is he pushing sweet kisses to the skin and wrapping his arms around each thigh like a hug, he’s looking up at her like she had given him a star. Like she had single handedly flown to space, plucked one from the sky, and held it out for him to have and to hold. “Remember to tell me if it gets to be too much,” he reminds her as he always does, before he presses his nose to the skin and breathes in deep. His shoulders roll backward once as he nestles closer, his tongue dipping from his mouth to lick a stripe where he would bite as he always does. Goosebumps tickle up and down her arms and legs, her center giving a pulse in interest at the proximity in which he’s near her. It’s too much and not enough all at once, bristling beneath his attention, impatience and excitement fizzling through her veins as she awaits the first bit of pain.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to it. The way the point of his teeth slides into her skin, two pricks much like a shot that she still flinches from. Harry notices her discomfort, using one of his hands to reach up towards her, slotting their fingers together with a soft squeeze as he latches his mouth around the point he’d chosen. He begins to suck from her, such an odd sensation that’s both terribly disconcerting and arousing all at once. A moan threatens at the back of her throat but she swallows it down in favor of hearing his own happy hum against her. Though he normally lacks color, the addition of blood into his system always tints his cheeks a rosy pink at first, and the way he holds onto her tighter, suckles sensually, and revels in the sweetness of the taste makes her tremble.

Y/N doesn’t start getting light headed until two to four minutes in and Harry can always tell -- parting from her with a soft, wet smack, lulling his tongue over the flesh he’d just been feeding from. This time instead of peeling back immediately as he usually does, he scoots forward and pulls the fabric of her panties to the side. Once again he breathes in deep, only this time he is slicking the broad of his tongue up from her hole up to her swollen clit, suckling it into his mouth. This time she is unable to keep her moan quiet, weakened thighs attempting to shut around his head, as he continues to lap at her petals.

“Harry,” she gasps, her back arching, her hips rolling up against his tongue where the clit slicks and slides around the swollen button, moving it side to side beneath, “Please, please don’t stop I --” her legs are shaking much more than she was expecting, reaching down with the hand that he wasn’t holding to burrow in his hair. The mix of spit and her juices was deliciously inviting, wet, messy and warm. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, the telling sign of an orgasm zipping up from the tips of her curled toes, and the light of it wraps around her thigh, around her hips, up through her torso and fanning out down towards her fingers and to the tips of each strand of hair atop her head.

He reaches down towards his cock, wiggling down the slick trousers so they bunch around his thighs as he slips his fingers around the stiff shaft and begins to twist and tug, only serving to make her moan even more against her. Her chest heaves with each breath, biting down on the inside of her cheek when he prods his tongue at her hole, licking inside her, slurping and drinking her up like he’d been born to do it. Almost like he’d been waiting for it since she’d promised him a bite of her thighs in exchange to go to the wedding. The sheer avidness and passion, how he takes hold of her clit between his lips, sucking hard and fast.

He encourages her with his gaze alone, nodding his head, a soft, “Mhm,” against her that had her insides undulating, and like a bubble of water that swells beneath immense pressure, it pops around her in a blinding wave of light. She cums on his mouth, shaking like a leaf -- a very well satisfied leaf -- as Harry licks and sucks and works her through it. Brings her back down from the clouds with soft, sweet kisses up her thighs, to the junction of her leg and hip, pushing kisses to her stomach, and skipping where her dress was still covering her to her mouth. When he kisses her he slips his tongue into her mouth so that he can taste her, nipping, and suckling at her lips before rubbing the tips of their noses together.

Harry pecks another kiss to her mouth before murmuring, “We ran out of cranberry juice this morning,” but before she could act even the tiniest bit elated, he continues, “Thank goodness I have a whole new case of it in my trunk.”

“Harry,” she pouts, but he reaches up and plucks at her bottom lip.

“Put that away,” he tuts his tongue, “If you drink it all, maybe I’ll get you off again, hmm?”  

[golbrocklovely]

only the lonely survive // colby brock - chapter twenty-one: make it feel like the first time

A/N: okay... so i suggest you read my update so you can understand why this is super late. also, two lovely reasons why this wasn’t up on time (bc anxiety and depression couldn’t just be it) is my laptop crashed while i writing this AND ALSO this whole thing is a sex scene. i’ve never truly written pure smut before, but i hope it’s okay. lmk if it sucks lol also lmk what you think of the story so far. alrighty... on with the smut.

description of the story

taglist:  @ajosieface , @localsleeper , @julyrubyrose , @far-to-many-bands , @absolute-randomness-forever

trigger warning: IT’S LITERALLY JUST SMUT

word count: 1933

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DAY 12/14

"Fuck, I need a break." I mumbled to myself, tossing my laptop off me and walking to the kitchen.

I had been editing, answering emails, and doing general work things all day. I was bored, tired... but mostly bored.

I needed something to do that wasn't work. I would have hung out with Casey, but she was out with Brennen. I didn't want to call Colby. I didn't want to seem clingy since we had been hanging out almost every day since I got to California. And even though my time with him was running short... I just didn't want to seem desperate.

As I stepped into the kitchen, I felt my phone vibrate. Unlocking it, I saw a new message from Colby.

Colby: what are u doing rn

I texted him back quickly.

Skye: nothing really. why?

I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, waiting for his reply. I soon heard my phone buzz.

Colby: save me. im bored and no one is home :(

I could see his pout in my mind. I giggled to myself, typing out my response.

Skye: ask and you shall receive

/  /  /  /

"What have you been up to all day?" I asked as we both strolled into Colby's room.

He shrugged. "Nothing really. Mostly editing. I didn't even know I was alone in the house today."

"Where is everyone?" I inquired.

"I know Sam and Kat are hanging out all day. But everyone else... no clue." He replied, laying down on his bed.

"Am I your last resort?" I gasped dramatically, sliding my knee onto his bed.

He shook his head, grabbing my hands and pulling me down onto him. "No..."

I buried my face into his chest as we cuddled for a moment. I embraced him, and he did the same to me. Suddenly, he spun us around. I laid my back against his bed as he pulled away from me. He gazed into my eyes, smiling sweetly. I stared into his, getting lost in the deep blue that they were.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered.

A blush rose to my face instantly. I rolled my eyes, trying to cover it. "You love teasing me, don't you?"

"Never." He kissed my lips quickly.

I stared back into his eyes again, cupping his cheek. His mouth twitched from a smile he barely let show. His eyes scanned my face slowly, noticing every detail. I bit my lip softly, still looking into his eyes. When our gaze finally met, I leaned up and connected our lips.

Everything about this kiss felt slow and gentle. The nibble of his teeth against my lip, the brush of my hand up his back, every movement sweet. I thread my fingers through his hair, the slight tug causing a hum to leave his mouth.

His fingers trailed up and down my thighs, goosebumps following their path. I spread my legs, allowing Colby to get closer to me and relax against my body.

Our gentle nature changed.

As our tongues danced together, my fingers left his hair and traveled down his body, resting low on his stomach. My fingers snaked their way up his shirt, nails dragging lightly across his abs. He pulled away with a grunt, sitting up.

“Talk about teasing…” He mumbled, ripping his shirt off. A coy smirk appeared on his face.

I chuckled, my face mimicking his. “Bite me.”

“If you insist…” Colby uttered.

He shoved his lips against my neck, finding a sensitive spot under my ear. He nipped and sucked at the spot, causing me to moan. I gripped his forearms as I pushed my hips against his. I slowly started to grind in a circle, causing his teeth to sink a little more into my skin. A gasp escaped my lips.

His fingers pulled at the bottom of my shirt, slowly rising it up slightly. I nodded my head without a word, and Colby pushed my shirt off my body quickly.

His body pulled away from mine, looking at the new shown skin. I glanced into his eyes and watched his gaze danced across my skin.

A single word fell from his lips. “Gorgeous.”

My reaction to his words were cut short by his lips connecting to mine. His hands rubbed circles on my hips. They slowly moved up my sides, my back arching at the sensation. As we continued to kiss, I felt his fingers brush at the edge of my bra.

“Can I…” He murmured against my lips.

I choked out. “Yeah.”

He smiled softly, pecking my jawline as he unclasped my bra. He glided the fabric off me, the cool air of the room touching my newly exposed skin.

His lips left my jaw, kissing down my neck and to my chest. He glanced up at me as his mouth traveled to my left breast, pecking around my nipple. His tongue lazily circled it, my breath hitching in my throat. He sucked my nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

I moaned his name, unable to hold back. “Colby.”

He removed his mouth, smirking. He kissed across my chest, going to my right breast. Doing the same thing to my other nipple, a shiver ran down my spine. I placed my hand on the back of his head, running my fingers through his hair.

Colby’s head slipped out from under my hand as he trailed his lips down my stomach. He kissed the skin that rested just above my shorts. His fingers traced the waistband as he looked up at me.

“Please Colby.” I whined.

He nodded, a smirk almost coming to his lips. He shimmied the shorts down my legs, leaving me in just my underwear.

He got up on his knees, watching me as he pulled his own shorts off, leaving him in just his boxers. My eyes widen at the sight of him.

Holy shit… this is actually happening.

Colby lowered his body back onto mine, brush his lips against mine. His hands cupped my hips, his fingers itching to touch me. My tongue swept across his lips, needing a taste. As our tongues grazed each other, his hand trickled down to my heat.

He rubbed circles on my clit as his mouth fell from mine. “I can feel how wet you are.”

I hissed. “Oh my God.”

He brought his lips to my ear, whispering huskily. “Can I taste you?”

I could feel my sex squirm at his words. I muttered a ‘yes’ as he snaked down to my hips. He pealed my underwear off slowly, teasingly. I felt a wave of nervousness wash over me, until I saw his face.

Not a single ounce of judgement appeared. His lust filled eyes looked up at me for a moment, and then back to my slit.

He leaned forward, his breath fanning across me. I shuddered, my legs shaking. His lips landed on my clit, and I melted into the feeling. He lapped at my clit, his tongue exploring. His fingers slid up my thigh and entered me gently.

“Holy shit! Fuck!” I whispered aggressively. My hands instinctively reached for his hair, pushing his head closer.

He hummed against my clit, causing my hips to buck against his tongue. His fingers sped up their pace, curving and going deeper.

“Colby, I’m so close.” I grunted, grinding my sex against his mouth and fingers.

He abruptly removed his fingers and mouth, causing a whine to come from me.

He chuckled lustfully. “I wanna feel you cum around me. Be patient, baby.”

“Not fair.” I sighed, trying to catch my breath. He rolled off me and pulled his underwear down, his cock springing free.

…Damn.

He got back on top of me, kissing me in the process. The kiss was slow and gentle, like how this all started.

“Do you want this?” He whispered, his lips barely pressed against mine.

“Badly.” I muttered.

A short laugh fell from both our lips. He nodded and reached over to his nightstand, opening the drawer. He grabbed a condom, bringing the silver packet over to us. He put the corner of it in between his teeth, tearing it open. He pulled the condom out and began to roll it down his shaft.

My heart began to pound in my chest.

Was I really ready for this? Should I tell him I’m a virgin?

“Colby?” I asked.

His movements stopped. “What? Is something wrong?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I- um. I…”

“What? You can tell me.” He smiled, cupping my face.

“I…”

The words couldn’t come out. I wanted to tell him I was a virgin, let him know that this wasn’t just going to be our first time together, but my first time completely. But… I couldn’t form the words.

“I haven’t had sex in a long time. So… be gentle.” I stated, exhaling.

Colby nodded his head, pecking my lips. “Of course, baby.”

He lined up his hips, his tip playing against my entrance. I slid my hands up his back, feeling his muscles relax under my touch.

“Ready?” He murmured, gazing into my eyes.

I stammered. “Please.”

Slowly, he entered me and my walls stretched around him. Every inch of him made me feel full. It was all intense and unlike anything I had felt. When his hips finally rested against mine, I breathed.

“Fuck, Skye.” Colby grunted, his hands gripping my sides.

“Oh my God.” I gasped.

We stayed still, Colby only moving to lean down and kiss me roughly. My body calmed, allowing the slight pain of him inside me to dissipate.

“Move, baby.” I moaned, yanking my lips away from his.

He leaned his forehead against mine, slowly pulling his hips back. He slowly sunk back into me, a groan escaping his lips.

His pace picked up to a steady rhythm, the in-and-out causing my hips to buck in time. I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my legs around his waist, wanting him closer and deeper in me.

��You feel so good, Skye. Fuck.” He groaned.

“Go faster, Colby.” I uttered, my nails digging into the skin of his back.

He thrusted his hips harder, his pace speeding up. I could feel my wetness drip down my pussy lips, slicking my thighs.

“You’re so wet for me.” Colby smirked, biting his lip.

I whimpered. “Keep going, don’t stop.”

I began to thrust my hips in a circle. Expletives leaked from Colby’s mouth as he dived deeper into me. His eyes stared into mine, making the moment even more intense. I could feel a build up beginning in my stomach.

“I’m close.” I was barely able to form a sentence, the pleasure being too much.

He nodded. “Me too, baby.”

Colby pounded into me harder. His fingers suddenly finding my clit, rubbing it forcefully. He buried his head into my neck, lips against my ear.

“Cum with me, Skye.” He grunted lustfully.

My high came the moment those words left his lips. My body exploded from the pleasure as I moaned loudly, unable to hold back anymore. Colby sped up his thrusts, his orgasm ripping through him. He jutted his hips against mine, groaning against my neck and shoulder.

Our movements stopped as his body relaxed against mine. A sheen of sweat rested on our skin, causing the room to feel both too hot and cold all at once.

Colby picked his head up, looking at my face. He moved a piece of hair off my forehead as he leaned down and kissed me sweetly. His thumb stroked my cheek as he pulled away.

<< CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 22 >>

[rogertaylors-lipgloss]

Update: Links to Chapters Two and Three

Untitled Ben Hardy x Reader Chapter One

I don’t think y’all are ready for this. I’m not ready for this. 

Reader works for the costume designer for the Bohemian Rhapsody film, where she meets Ben Hardy and the rest of the BoRhap boys. I said that this would be a slow burn but I lied and there is already smut coming in the second chapter, which will be coming very soon bc I’ve already written most of it. What can I say? I’m a slut for some smut. 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.3k 

You looked around at the costume area wondering how you had ended up here. You had been an American student studying abroad in England when a production team had reached out to the history department at the school you attended. They were looking for someone with an extensive knowledge of 20th century fashion and you were the only one who fit that qualification. It seemed odd to most people when you told them you studied the history of fashion, but something about the way people used clothing to express themselves had historical connotations that you desperately wanted to find. You had written your undergraduate thesis on the relationship between feminism and fashion in the mid- to late 20th century and it had earned you a spot in a master’s program in England.

The movie you had been hand-picked for was an upcoming biopic of Queen, one of your favorite bands, and its charismatic front man Freddie Mercury. You had already met the head costume designer, Julian Day, several times beforehand but none of the cast. This wasn’t your first day on set, but you were still nervous. Looking around, your eyes found Julian, who was busy adjusting the clothing of whom you assumed to be one of the main actors in the film. He looked up, and smiling said, “Ah, Y/N! Could you come over here and take a look at this?” You walked closer to get a better look, and the man he was working on turned to greet you. “Y/N, this is Ben Hardy. He is playing Roger Taylor in the film. Ben, this is my newest assistant, Y/N.” You were eyes locked with his, which were the clearest shade of green you’d ever seen. They perfectly resembled aventurine, you thought, recalling the stone from a geology class you’d been suckered into taking a few years ago. His heart-shaped face was framed by a shoulder-length, shaggy blonde fringe that you correctly assumed to be a wig.

Ben caught you staring, and he flashed a smile. “Hello there, Y/N.” He had a thick accent, but you hadn’t been in England long enough to know the origin. Looking at Julian and then back at you, he said, “another fashion student, I assume?”

You snorted. Not that you had anything against the fashion industry, especially given your studies, but his tone felt dismissive. “No actually,” you said. “I’m a historian.”

He looked a bit embarrassed, and Julian interjected, “She’s doing quite well, actually. Y/N has been helping me research fabrics and patterns. She’s even spent her free time trudging through every thrift store in the country trying to help me out.” You beamed.

Remembering why he had called you over, you positioned yourself to take in Ben’s outfit. Julian had dressed him in a black button-up shirt, a glossy gold and black jacket, and tight black pants. Cocking your head, you realized what needed to be changed. “Roger wouldn’t be wearing a shirt,” you said.

“Most girls let me take them on a date before they want to see me naked. How scandalous!” Ben said, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed.

Julian rolled his eyes. “Just take it off, please.” Ben winked at you as he started unbuttoning his shirt.

After finalizing the last touches on the outfit, Julian turned to you. “I need you to make another trip to the shops today, try to find some more pieces for the boys. It also wouldn’t hurt to stock up on some things for the extras.”

You nodded. “Sure thing, Julian.” You walked over to wear you had left your bag, picked it up, and started fishing for your keys as you made your way for the door.

Ben had overheard and rushed to catch up with you. “Wait,” he shouted. “D’you mind if I come along? I mean, it would only make sense seeing as it is my wardrobe your shopping for.”

He didn’t know anything about you, but he didn’t care. Something about you drew him in, enticing him. Towering over you, his wide eyes bore into yours. You knew nothing of him apart from his role in the film, but he seemed decent and he at least had a good sense of humor. Not to mention you thought he was drop dead gorgeous. So you shrugged and said, “sure.”

Shortening his stride to match your own, he walked silently with you through the chaos of the production stage. “Hey Ben,” someone shouted. “Where are you going, dude?” You looked over to see a couple of other actors lounging about. You both stopped walking, and you hung back as he walked over to where they were sitting. Ben looked back at you and gestured for you to follow him. “Guys, this is Y/N. She’s helping Julian out with costuming. Y/N, this is Joe, Rami, and Gwil.”

A tall, gangly man with dark brown hair and flawless cheekbones reached his hand out to shake yours. “Gwilym, actually. Gwilym Lee. You may also call me Gwil, though. If you’d like.” You smiled and shook back. “I’m playing Brian.” The others introduced themselves as Joe Mazzello, who was playing John Deacon, and Rami Malek, who was playing the legendary Freddie Mercury. Where Joe was pale and redheaded, with a childlike gleam in his eye, Rami was more serious, with wide eyes and lovely olive skin. You recognized them both from Jurassic Park and Mr. Robot, respectively.

“So, what are you two doing?” Joe asked excitedly, clearly not wanting to miss out on any potential for fun.

“Y/N has to go to the shops to gather some pieces for us and the extras, I was just tagging along.” He looked down at his feet to hide his flushing cheeks, running a hand through his hair.

“Well obviously we’re coming with you, right guys?” Joe looked over at Rami and Gwilym, who shook their heads slightly and chuckled. Joe was the only one who couldn’t sense that Ben was trying to get to know you and might possibly want to be alone.

Luckily for Joe, you didn’t catch that either. “It might be a tight squeeze, but I think there should be enough room in my car.” Rami and Gwilym exchanged glances. Clearly you were a saint for entertaining Joe, they thought.

“SHOTGUN!” Joe shouted as he began jogging towards the parking lot.

           At the university, everything you’d needed was within walking distance. So when you were hired, Julian had been kind enough to rent a car for you, knowing you would have to drive for the job pretty regularly. The car wasn’t anything to lust over, just an older Volkswagen Golf. But it was easy to drive and had just enough room for you shove stacks of books and clothes into the cargo area. You silently thanked God that you had decided to clean it this morning. After you unlocked the car, Joe dove into the passenger seat, clicking the seatbelt before any of the other boys could wrestle him out. Ben reluctantly slid across the backseat, with Gwilym and Rami close behind. The three boys squished together in the back was quite a sight, and you laughed as they struggled to fit.

           One of your favorite stops wasn’t far from the studio. It was housed in a large warehouse and the inventory was constantly in flux. As you checked to make sure you had the studio’s card before getting out of the car, you didn’t notice Ben jump out of the car and walk over to open the door for you. “Oh my god, could you be any more obvious, Ben?” Rami rolled his eyes, warranting an elbow to the ribs from Gwilym. You didn’t hear them and smiled at Ben as you slid out of the driver’s seat.  

           The owner of the shop recognized you and gave you a nod as you walked in, Ben, Rami, Joe, and Gwilym trailing rowdily behind you. Ben admired you as you walked down one of the rows filled with clothes, gently tracing your hand along the full hangers. The way you could so quickly discern whether or not a garment was worth your time, without even pulling it from the rack, was impressive. He desperately wanted to know more about you.

           “So,” he broached. “what did you do before you started working for Julian?”

“What did you do before you were cast in the movie?” You quipped back. Seeing him taken aback, you quickly covered, “I was studying at a university. It was difficult to get my visa switched over, but Julian somehow made it happen. I hope to go back and finish up after the film wraps.”

           “He must have really thought you had potential. I can tell he’s quite thrilled with your work, though it’s not hard to see why.”

You blushed at Ben’s compliment. Before you could respond, Joe and Rami jumped out of a nearby rack nearly giving you a heart attack. The two boys, from what you could tell, had been up to no good. Joe was dressed in a vintage fur coat with a broach the size of an apple. Rami had on an outrageous hat with large feathers of some kind sprouting out of it. Suddenly, Gwilym appeared at the end of the row, wearing nothing but an old nightgown and a feather boa. You busted into a fit of laughter, tears springing to your eyes. God how you hated the sound of your own laugh, a snort followed by uncontrollable cackling, but to Ben it was utterly charming, and he let out a laugh of his own. Turning to Ben, you asked, “are they always like this?”

“Well, we haven’t started filming yet, but so far, yeah.”

“Oh hush, you love us,” Gwilym jibed. “Got to keep ourselves busy somehow, love.”

“It’s all Joe really,” Rami sarcastically replied.

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m the only one with a sense of humor on this set.” The boys responded to Joe with a round of “whatever” and “yeah right.”  

You glimpsed closer at the nightgown Gwil had on. “Gwilym,” you said, “I think you’ve actually done me a huge favor.” You pulled out your phone and scrolled through until you found the right picture. The boys huddled around you trying to look at the screen. Absentmindedly, Ben placed his hand on the small of your back while he peered down at the photo, and you met his eyes with a shy smile. It was a still of Brian May from Queen’s “I Want to Break Free” music video.  

“It’s uncanny,” muttered Rami. Gwilym put his hands on his hips and made a superhero pose.

“Well, at least that’s one thing I can cross off.” You switched over to look at the daunting list Julian sent you on your phone. “Perhaps you boys could give me a hand with some of this?”

After giving Rami, Joe, Gwilym, and Ben detailed instructions on the types of pieces you were looking for, the five of you split up to tackle various sections of the store. By the time you had finished and loaded back into the car, the trunk was overflowing, and the boys all sat holding multiple bags of clothing, shoes, and accessories. While you knew there would still be plenty of thrifting trips left in store for you, the boys had done an excellent job. Arriving back at set, Rami immediately had to go work with Polly, his movement coach, and Gwilym, Joe, and Ben helped you carry everything back to the costume department.

“I had a lovely time, Y/N. I look forward to hanging out again, as I am sure we will,” Gwilym said before wrapping you into a warm hug.

Joe followed suit. “Yeah, I hope you realize we are going to harass you constantly now. So, uh, you’re welcome.” The two of them waved before heading back to rehearse their lines.

Ben lingered behind, helping you begin to put your finds onto hangers. You appreciated the company, especially the company of someone so beautiful. You blushed to yourself. He’s an actor, you thought. He probably has models dripping over him constantly, why would he ever be interested in someone like you. You were short and pale with voluminous curves, definitely not a model.  “You don’t have anywhere to run off too?” You asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Nothing too important. Besides, it’s quieter back here and the company’s much better.” He looked down at his feet. “Unless, I’m bothering you, then I can- “

You grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, interrupting his self-doubt. “You’re not bothering me, Ben.” He looked down at your hand touching his and smiled at you. The two of you silently fell into a pattern: Ben pulled the clothing out of the bags and handed each item to you, which you in turn put on a hanger and placed on the rack. Julian watched the two of you knowingly and smirked to himself as he worked on pinning a costume. Once everything had been crammed onto two rolling racks, Ben helped you push them over to where a steaming area had been set up.

“Ben!” You looked up and saw a production assistant running towards Ben, almost fuming. “Where have you been? The rest of the cast is almost ready to start rehearsing Live Aid and we needed you twenty minutes ago!”

“Oi, I’m sorry mate! Just helping out some special crew members,” he said, giving you a wink. “I’ll be there in just a moment.”

Turning to you as the production assistant huffed off, he said, “I don’t really want to go, would you come watch?” He looked over at Julian. “If that’s alright, that is.”

Julian nodded at you. “Go. Have some fun.”

You shot Julian a grateful smile and smoothed down your shirt. “Why not?”

Chapter Two 

Chapter Three

Tag List (I tagged some of you guys who reblogged, I hope that’s ok! Also if I missed anybody, I’m so sorry and send me a message)

@onceuponathreetwoone @disasterdeacy @thetinyfiore @queenislife-1974 @derekxsammy @itsametaphorbriansblog @caborhapch

[tinyaibou]

life updates

theres like no meat in the house everything is fake meat because my parents are trying to cut down on meat. its like fine because we never really ate meat in the first place but like.... im tired of this fascimile?? maybe its cheaper than like Vegetable Meals (proper) and easier but like i miss real meat and nothing makes me miss it more than fake meat. its like when u eat fake sugar and ur bodies like Ok Lets Process Some Real Sugar but it fucks up bc its not real sugar. its like that except with my brain and then i just end up craving the real thing.

dad got a new computer for us to use and its very beefy. and a nice change from having to do everything on my aging laptop... nothing wrong i just hate having to use it in his office. makes drawing and working on creative projects difficult. this was like a big surprise... and i got to help build it a little! mostly he just had me hold up a light while he did most of the assembly but it was good? yeah?? oh and it can play games without like dying which is a bonus but like jfkskfkdk im excited to mess around w after effects on this? see if i remember anything from my motion graphics course??

also this spring im gonna like.... be doing a mix of noncredit certicifaction courses + actual community college courses and work on like the Basic Classes i need to get a degree?? even like a two year one??? mayybe work on transferring but im honestly not confident enough in my ability to Do School to see myself being able to see that as like a worthy investment... but!! whatever.

i’ll be having a bigger workload this time around and im really hoping that im able to handle it because last time i had this many classes i fumbled everything and relapsed (slfhrm) and then was hospitalized for a bit Ha Ha it is making me kind of freak out because i legitimately dont know if i can handle it. On the other hand i feel ridiculous doing the certificate courses (very very basic Business stuff for like.... Accounting or Administrative/ Assistant Work?) and i kept feeling taking so long with college???? because i would end up only being able to do one or two classes a semester because otherwise i wouldnt be able to process shit or manage my time?? it all just falls apart?? anyway im hoping it doesnt all fall apart. im starting small for winter and doing just One Normal Class (english b) and even that has been giving me mild anxiety like i know im going to fuck everything up.

[panelshowsource]

i actually wasn’t too nervous! i knew paul, iain, and joe would all be sweet and i was excited for sian because no middle-aged funny lady has ever not been a legend. even though i don’t think it was a god tier season i thought they were all endearing in their own ways (even iain lmao) and i think we appreciate that kind of pleasantness. i had thought it was going to be a touch more competitive — which is my taste, which is why i liked s2 so much, for example — because iain and even lou were bringing it hard in the beginning, but they seemed to succumb to the wrath of the taskmaster pretty quickly and begin just going along with what he decided without much fuss or drama. that said, i also think the taskmaster was a little lax; you may have noticed plenty of rounds he didn’t give out 1 or even 2 points, like prize tasks were 3-3-3-4-5 points opposed to someone having to come last even if they did a decent job (which can cause some fun drama). i thought the editing of the tasks was really back up to par this series and i loved the return of sassy talkative alex like we had in s1 and 2. i really think it was a lot of fun!

ahhhh hard to say! maybe......sian 💕 hbu??

i’m not proud of him and frankly i hope he’s not proud of himself

even though requests aren’t open this was cute so i got u hehe

joe is very special and perfect and good and i am highly concerned about him

you and a thousand other anons, trust me ;’) luckily if u catch him with a rosé in his hand i think you’re in with a chance

hell yes she is! taskmaster said smith family rights!

it’s what we DESERVE!!!!!

seal*! ofc mitchell brook primary school are a league of legends baybay!! and ya i tried to do a lot of miles content this week bc it’s what the people want heh

i would really enjoy seeing glenn moore and larry dean more, who i think were some of the best newcomers to have come on the show in a long time. as for guests from very previous series? ooo well i def miss gina and do think david should be on every show forever until the end of time, obviously, but hmm it’d be great to see holly walsh, sarah millican, and jo brand again!! they’re all ace with those big group dynamics which is super important on that series in particular. i also miss frankie with my every fibre

lmaooo i call him a poor man’s ed gamble and that’s a compliment tbh

it may have very well been an act back in 2017, or maybe you were just really receptive to even him at his most honestly aggressive, hard to say. i was much more forgiving of that aggression the second time i saw him live but by the third and fourth times i was very much on the same page as those in the thread and thought it was borderline unprofessional and barely funny. honestly to each his own though, bc if it can pass as comedy then it is comedy, truly. the worst of it i saw was when a woman got up to use the restroom during the set and he ended up berating her for ten mins over it, and after the show she was outside telling people she was so sorry she upset him but she couldn’t wait any longer to change her tampon...seriously brutal. i really don’t have any reason to believe it’s an act. he’s mentioned many, many times on his podcasts that he is very sensitive, is sidetracked easily, is very self-critical, he doesn’t enjoy interacting with fans (specifically during and after standup), and it’s not uncommon for him to lose his groove half-way through his shows if something throws him off; he is also self-admittedly seriously mentally ill. the protection of being in character seems to have come in handy for him in a serious way for a long time, and i don’t think he’s come to understand how he’s meant to behave and interact when he’s being Real James like he is in cold lasagne. i don’t claim to know him, but considering the last time i saw him (spring) he did a whole bit about how suicidal he was just a couple months prior, it seems fair to say he’s still in throes of taking care of himself, so i’m sending him positive and healthy vibes and hoping he’s putting that before his career

note: i really don’t want to rehash this acaster convo again in the asks, so please message me off anon if you have any questions. stay positive and take care of your mental health, y’all!!

i haven’t!! i’ll let you know when i do though :’)

apart from the champion specials that are upcoming, we aren’t suuuure. probably september or october, though! i am rly excited for it to come back, it’s such a pleasant show and richard is such an underrated panelist in general imo

my thoughts exactly anon 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

anon stop are you trying to make me cry..........i genuinely find it so inspiring.........the first time i heard him say that the 2 years waiting for her were the hardest of his life, and if he had known he only had to wait 2 years for her they would have been the easiest..........broke a piece of my heart off that is still floating around my chest cavity trying to find a home..........

TBH I ASKED AND I HAVE RECEIVED

which links anon? i clicked through a bunch and everything is in working order. are you sure you’re looking at the original post, which gets updated?

f.a.q. // tags // watch links masterpost

[thisnerdsadventures]

the last two weeks

Just two weeks ago, my friends and I went out to Yamato’s for the first time. 

It was sponsored by our dorm, so we racked up a nearly $1000 bill. We had a great time, but the end of our brunch came, and a few of us took a walk to the common for a Bernie rally, and the others went to the BPL to study. Afterwards, we all wound back on campus, and went about our Saturday doing the usual psetting. The current source of stress was the cup of grapes situation that spiraled wildly out of control, but in hindsight, it seems so inconsequential now. Eleven days ago, my friend and I went to Harvard for the day to decompress from everything. It was a beautiful day - the sun was out, we were wearing our light jackets. We went for ramen for lunch, shopped at a shoe store, and searched hopelessly for hand sanitizer. I had promised to work on my UROP but felt I deserved a day off, as I had been working tirelessly for a while. We walked around, taking it all in, I talked about how I was excited for our dinner on Friday and going to Michigan later in April for a conference. It looked like things might get better. The next day, the rumbling started. Harvard sent an email forbidding international travel. We had heard of the situation intensifying in Italy, but we were still nervously waiting to see what would happen. There were crisis-related rumblings on top of the usual school stress and all the things that had not gone well this semester, and just like that, the next day, MIT took it a step further and cancelled all large major events and banned international travel.

This was the first shock. Just earlier that day, I argued with my friend about her decision to back out of our spring break Spain trip due to coronavirus concerns. But now, five hours later, I sat on the ground in my friend's room as the shock passed over me. Every group chat was nonstop. What about CPW? What about Senior Ball? What about Springfest? Our spring break plans were definitely in the gutter now. Every question sent chills and dread down my spine. I heard someone ask whether commencement would still happen, and I cracked, not being able to face this eventuality that I prayed wouldn't happen. The rest of the day was gone, lost to the questions and stress and emails that ensued from this notification. But there were still personal conflicts. Personal problems, academic stress bubbling up to the surface for weeks, and it was coming to a head. Our dinner just over a week ago nearly didn't happen, but luckily a few of us still went to Harvard for a wonderful time. Our conversations surrounded how Harvard followed our footsteps just a day later on cancelling major events and how changes were so drastic. We contemplated whether the policy would be extended and whether our summer plans would be affected, but decided that that was too far in the future to worry about. So we ran across Harvard in the 30 degree night, snow falling from the sky, enjoying our time, not knowing what was to come. I spent what would be the last weekend preparing for a case. I prepped nonstop and thought I did really well on it in class, just this past Monday. It was a beautiful Monday, we biked to Panda Express with nothing but light jackets and we wished that every day could be like that, feeling like summer had come early in Boston. The situation outside was worsening, and we were watching closely to see what would happen. My friends from LA were trying to convince me to go to San Diego with them for a couple days now that my Spain trip was definitely cancelled. Over Twitter, we found out Princeton closed first, demanding it's undergraduates not come back from break, but i went to bed that Monday early, to prepare for a full day of research to come Tuesday, as my Tuesdays usually go, unblocked to make progress on my research. When I woke up Tuesday, there was something wrong. I knew from the blast of notifications from every group chat on every social media account I owned. My Harvard chat was 100+ messages deep by 9:30am from their closure and eviction of undergraduate students. I sat up immediately in bed and opened the other group chats, trembling. Another group of my friends were already organizing storage and coordinating travel ideas in the case that we would also be following suit after Harvard. 

I dashed to my computer to access all the other texts and call my dad, who was still awake in Taiwan. He told me to calm down and to wait. But just 30 minutes later, a screenshot leaked, confirming our worst fears - we would also be leaving campus in just a week, moving out for the semester. all classes would be online. My stomach dropped. In my attendance-based class, 2/3 of the class was present, and most were on their phone, checking for updates. We all anxiously waited the rumored 1pm email that would make it official. Everyone knew at this point, and seniors were feeling it all now, the shock, the grief, the celebration already of 4 years on campus. My friends and I cracked open a bottle of wine and took pictures on Killian with the hundreds of other students partying until 5pm. At 5pm though, the email released. It was official. All undergraduates were to move out in a week.

My floor exploded - flights frantically booked. What about storage? I called my mom and she was on it - Sunday afternoon flight booked, same one as my friend. And there was nothing to do except stare out the window of my friends room into the Boston skyline and finish off my wine bottle. And like many of my graduating peers, I realized that my senior year was done, and that I had not even a week to say goodbye to my home and to my friends. I started sobbing, nonstop. I hadn't cried like this since high school. My head of house started up a video call to the whole dorm, and hearing them talk logistics made me cry harder, and when I thought I stopped, I checked my phone and found an email from my professor berating the administration and acknowledging our irreplaceable loss. I cried again, harder. would commencement happen? Even if it did, my dad wouldn't be able to fly into the country. I continued to sob at the thought. After two hours, I eventually found my way to my friends bed where I fell asleep next to her until dinner, and with my eyes no longer swollen from tears, I wandered down to the dining hall with them. We saw other seniors, who had also been crying, judging from the redness in their eyes and cracks in their voices. The pain felt numb for me at this point. My friends stuck around for a bit, and we played some video games. No one on the floor was working, as we all had too much going on in our heads. The house team worked tirelessly to organize storage, and few of us slept that night. We stayed up chatting in the lobby about our families and going home and afterwards lied in our beds, sleepless, staring at the ceiling. The next day, I had just one class to go to, as large classes had been cancelled already. The campus was buzzing with yesterday's events. And in that class, we said our parting goodbyes, and many of us teared up yet again. But we laughed so hard too in that class, as we shared stories from our case just two days ago and for a moment, we forgot our pain. We took a class photo before we parted ways. After class, we lined up for an hour, each and every student, to personally thank our professor. 

My senior friends and I shared many meals together, and we parted, saying we'd see each other once again before we left. I watched my best friend take her swim test and watched as giant friend groups of other seniors came and cheered on their friends, fulfilling their last graduation requirement. To watch everyone support each other in these trying times brought warmth to my heart. I went home and ate dinner with my floor family, as we sat on the windowsills and drank boba and ate grilled cheeses. I was exhausted though, so I planned to go to bed at midnight, but I received a message from my best friend - she no longer was leaving on Monday, she was leaving in just eight hours.

I ran to maseeh and helped her pack until 5am. We packed up her curtains and I held her as she cried because she thought her parents were going to help her pack up her last year, just as they helped her screw in her curtains at the beginning of the year. I helped her store her stuff in the student center and we threw out bounties of trash and food. After I left, I knew with a sinking feeling that I wouldn't see her again for a while. And she cried a few more times and left early Thursday morning. When I woke up, she was gone. So I started cleaning and packing. The first boxes arrived in the green living room. In cleaning out my room, I found stuff from my first days of freshman year, my 8.02 exams, my chemistry notes, old electronics projects hidden away in boxes. And it was finally the end of my road, and so it was time to say goodbye to them. I spent so long mindlessly throwing stuff out, I had forgotten to leave McCormick until I finally went down to the lobby to hang out. And I hung out there for two hours, talking to everyone and anyone. I did a boba order for the ballerz, and my floor did yet another free dinner, so we once again ate together, laughing over the copious amount of free food on the kitchen table. Five or six of us returned to chatting and laughing about studying at home with family around in someone's room. A friend of mine invited us over to play Smash at BC, so we went and played a couple rounds. We returned to slowly packing until 11pm.

Things had been looking ok, as my dorm had dropped large amounts of money in buying everyone nice food. But when everyone received the emergency message from MIT telling us to leave by Sunday instead of Tuesday on Thursday night, the dorm exploded. Group chats started going off endlessly, with rumors of students already being sick or being quarantined on campus. I ran to my friends room, where she was already on the phone with her family, rebooking her flight for Saturday. "Just two days?" I thought to myself. "Not even two days I have left now with her and everyone and this home." She hung up the phone and started spilling rumors of Boston Logan closing on Monday. I melted to the floor, having a full panic attack. The dorm’s chat, another dorm’s chat, and every friend group chat started inciting even more fear and panic with each additional rumor. My ears were buzzing and my vision was blurring as I continued sitting on the floor. GRAs were woken up and started doing rounds on each floor, even though it was well past midnight at this point, to check on all the residents, many of whom were gathered in clusters around the floor. I went downstairs to talk to my GRA when I received a text from my friend. Chills ran down my back - "California might shut down within 24-48 hours." I did the math. The flight I rescheduled to just an hour ago was in 45 hours on Saturday afternoon. I felt another panic attack creeping up on me, so I ran off to talk to my friend. I went back up to my floor, where people were still yelling in the kitchen. She was off to the side, frantically still talking on the phone. Once I had calmed down a bit, I pulled her aside and told her about these messages, and she confirmed them in another group chat, showing me essentially a screenshot of a screenshot of a message in an unnamed group hat. Speechless, I stood in the hallway with her facing me. I guess she didn't know what else to do but hug me and reassure me it would be ok, because we had hit the point of simply not knowing what to do but say "I'm so sorry" to each other, as if it would ease the pain. I stayed up till 4:30am packing. My other friend called me, imploring me to change my flight to Friday, just 12 hours from then. I asked her bluntly, acknowledging my lack of family around the country - "if I can't go home, where am I supposed to go?" She promised I could stay with her in Texas and I stared back in disbelief, that we would reach this point of possibility that we would have no place to go, but that people would be so nice to open their homes to others who simply had no other place to go. I stared at my hopelessly unpacked room, the half consumed cider on the desk, and my sheer exhaustion, which had been kept awake by adrenaline. I called my mom again, who I'm sure was also was sleepless and asked whether our neighbor had also changed her flight. She said she didn't know whether they were able to change it. The next morning, two people woke me up two different times. Early in the morning, I fought for laundry machines and finished up most of my packing. That afternoon, I hung out in the lobby with my friends again and screamed out the window on a beautiful day as we blasted BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY into the courtyard. My dorm had a senior sendoff, complete with a senior gift and confetti, and a walk to Pomp and Circumstance, which was touching, considering we might not get commencement at the end of the year. But having everyone there to celebrate our little community and watch us walk to receive our fake diplomas and take senior pictures meant a lot to me.

Shortly after, I went up to the penthouse to watch the sunset for the last time. I had watched so many sunsets on top of that rooftop, as it was my goto spot when things went wrong. And things had never quite gone so wrong as this time. I looked at Fenway, where I went to my first Red Sox game, and Prudential, where my favorite gelato place is, and over to the right where BU is, where my friends and I run along the Esplanade. Every building, I could pin a memory. I watched the cars run down the bridge, where my friend and I pulled an all-nighter and watched the most beautiful sunrise. I watched the river slowly churn along and thought about how much I would miss seeing this every day. To think that just two weeks ago we had been yelling at each other about taking grapes out of the dining hall, that we were angry at each other for doing A or not doing B or saying C, all these problems were so inconsequential now. When you have just a few days left with the people you love, you remember that being around them and laughing and smiling with them is the most important thing, bottom line. I wrote letters to my friends to thank them for being them and sealed them into envelopes for the next day, and returned downstairs to store my stuff in the storage pod and eat dinner. Afterwards, we lied on our bare mattresses and laughed until 2am. My friend returned from maseeh also late that night, her eyes red from saying goodbye to her senior friends. I said good night and see you tomorrow, for what would be the last time for a while. That last morning, I said goodbye to so many people. It didn't really feel like goodbye, or maybe it hasn't set in yet. I watched my first friend leave in her Uber, and I hung out with my other friend until she left just an hour before me. And then it was my turn to leave, as I said goodbye to all the GRAs and my area director, promising I'd be back. And I took that one last walk out the front door. Halfway down the driveway, I took one last look back at the building I called home for four years, a place that had changed so much since I entered it four years ago, but has also changed me so much too. I thought about where I met my friends for the first time, the midnight piano in the GLR, the many nights spent talking until late night in 4 and 5 west. But the car was waiting, so I turned back to my ride to the airport, and I gave my friend one last hug and watched her wave as I drove away, down Memorial Drive, one last time.

[callioope]

fencing update ~ equipment rant

I have three assembled practice ("dry") blades and three electric blades. (The "dry' blades just mean they have a rubber tip at the end and they do not have a wire running through them, so they cannot be connected to the scoring equipment.)

I also have several spare blades (three again, I think?) that are not assembled with a guard or grip.

At the new school I joined, they fence electric for the whole class. Not how my previous instructor back in the day used to run things, fwiw, which may be relevent in a second.

So, of my three electric blades, one is broken. When I audited my equipment back in November 2020 (when I first started writing the rebelcaptain fencing AU!), I found it that way. I don't remember if it broke at one of the last classes I went to 15 years ago, or if it broke at some point during storage, but that's how I found it. (After that I invested in some PVC pipes to protect my blades moving forward.)

Another blade is this kind of fancy one that I won at my last tournament at my club. (Not an official tournament, just one that my instructor ran for all his students.) It is very pretty; the blade has this blue tint iirc (I haven't looked at it since 2020). It hasn't had much use because it was a prize. But also because it has a slightly different angle to it than any of my other blades, and a part of me is like, "is this legal*? was this assembled correctly? was this assembled intended to be used or just a showpiece?** assuming it was legal when it was assembled is it still legal?"

*legal in regards to fencing rules

**i'm sure I knew the answers to these at the time i received it but have i mentioned it's been fifteen years?

So in other words I'm just a ittle weary of using it.

Finally we come to my last blade. This is the one i've been using the past four or so classes I've attended. Now, all my blades are old, and I couldn't say how much use they've gotten since originally purchased/received. I can guess the fancy blue one that I'm afraid to use ... wasn't used much back in the day either. But this one? No clue. I've been perpetually worried it could break at any moment.

Compounded with this worry is the fact that it just is slightly bent at the end in the wrong direction. Fencing blades usually have a slight bend and for me, as a right-handed fencer, that's usually a little towards the left, but this bends a little right. And I am fighting this bend every time I fence.

Last Sat the instructor kept telling me to fix my blade, "you'll hit more if you fix it" like yes. i know. this blade will not Bend. and i'm afraid if i work it too hard it's going to break.

so he was helping me with the lesson and he's repeating himself that it's not bent right and goes to fix it himself and I'm like, "yeah, I'm afraid it's going to--"

*crack*

"--break."

We examined it and it didn't *appear* to be broken and it functioned okay -- still scoring correctly and such once I hooked up to the scoring machine. But. I'm also a little worried that the moment I untape it, it WILL fall apart. (Typical to tape the... idk 5 or 6 inches at the end of the blade.) and I do need to retape it bc the tape is peeling.

All this to say -- I'm fast approaching the period where I will need to change out these two broken blades (assuming the last blade is broken) with my spare blades. AND. I. DO NOT KNOW HOW TO DO IT! I don't know if my former instructor taught me and i forgot, taught me and I didn't pay attention at the time, or didn't teach me.

I'm a bit nervous about doing it right bc I'm sure it's complicated. I mean basically you have the button at the very tip of the blade, the spring that goes behind it, the wire that connects the button to the socket in the guard, the blade, the guard, and the grip. And like. also. I am not even sure if -- like I think you're supposed to make sure the blade you have will fit the grip and that the end point of the blade that screws into the grip doesn't poke out the end of the grip and. ;aksdf UGH

all this to say that I REALLY need to audit my fencing gear again and i keep intending to do it after my kid goes to sleep at night and EVERY NIGHT. it's like. 'but i'm cold and sleepy and want to snuggle under the blankets' and then here i am. like. UGH another night i did not audit my equipment. if i do not fix what i have I am going to have to use the fancy prize blade and hope that it is in fact allowed.

[bookaholic1012]

Prythian Magazine Part 16

A/N: I am so sorry for updated late! I was not productive at all last week and only started writing this chapter on Saturday! I am super proud of this one, however, and it is the longest piece for a fic I have written so far at 3,242 words, so I hope this makes up for the wait! This is also not edited bc I wanted you guys to read this asap, so sorry for mistakes!

PM Masterlist  AO3  My Writing

Lucien cursed himself for drinking so much. Vodka, tequila and bourbon were the only he could name. He turned away from the light shining on his face, but when he did, Lucien rolled into a wall - a moving wall.

He reached out with his hand, refusing to open his eyes, and felt warmth; muscles flexed and relaxed under his touch. Oh Gods.

At last he cracked open his eyes to reveal a tattooed back - a naked tattooed back. Tanned skin, Illyrian tattooes, and dark, disheveled shoulder-length hair. Oh Gods, please no.

At that moment, the body rolled around, revealing the only person Lucien knew who fit what he saw.

Cassian Burakgazi.

Lucien sat up quickly - something he regretted instantly. He felt incredibly nauseous and his head was pounding like a thousand drummers were banging on their instruments. Lucien didn’t have time to see if there was something he could throw up in; instead he swiftly rolled so he was leaning over the bed and purged on the floor.

A grunt sounded behind him as a toned arm wrapped around his waist, pulling Lucien to Cassian’s chest. “Cassian,” Lucien hissed, poking Cassian’s arm. “Cassian!”

“Lucien,” Cassian’s voice was rough, and he burrowed his face in the spot where Lucien’s neck and shoulder met. And Cauldron boil him if that didn’t make Lucien harden.

“Cassian! Wake up!” Lucien jabbed at his arm harder, but that only prompted Cassian to hold him tighter.

Lucien needed to leave now! The close contact was doing things to his brain, his heart and his cock. His cheeks heated at the thought. Lucien wanted nothing more than to stay here - in the comforting position, the safety - it was far too soon. Too soon after Andras. Too soon to be doing something with another person.

Lucien pried off Cassian’s arms and - ignoring the pounding in his head, the nausea, and the twinge in his heart - got out of bed. He was relieved to see that his underwear was still on. Quickly, Lucien found his clothes, got dressed, and left the room.

“Do you want an aspirin for the hangover?” A velvet smooth voice asked.

Spinning around - another movement he regretted - Lucien was greeted with the sight of Azriel, who was stirring something in a bowl.

“I’m good.” A lie. One Az saw through.

“Sure. Just take an aspirin and have a glass of water. Then I’ll drive you to Mor’s.”

“I am fine.” Also a lie. He was not doing well - mentally, physically, and emotionally.

“Lucien,” Azriel sighed. “You are clearly having a killer hangover, and dealing with whatever you feel as a result of sleeping in the same bed as Cassian. I won’t interrogate you, but at least hydrate and take something for the headache.”

Lucien gave in, shuffling to the kitchen, and took the glass of water offered to him. He just finished taking an aspirin, when a thought struck him.

“How’d you know I was with Cassian?”

Azriel looked guilty. “You walked out of Cassian’s room.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you looked guilty.”

“Lucien, do you remember anything from last night?”

Lucien concentrated. He only remembered blurred moments: Talking with his newfound friends - because despite the history between them, they were indeed friends now - dancing, and… and lips. He told this to Azriel.

“Do you know anything specific about the lips?” Az was starting to act weird.

“I - Did I kiss the lips?” It seemed like the only logical option to him.

“Yes. Now do you remember who you kissed?”

A flash of shadows. “You?” Azriel did seem to be a part of the shadows after all, but Lucien knew the person he kissed.

A shake of his head. Finally, Lucien said the name of the person to whom those lips belonged.

“Cassian.”

Azriel nodded. “Do you regret it?” Of course he would ask that. He and Cassian are brothers. They would do anything for one another.

“No,” And that was the truth. “But I’m not ready for a relationship.” Another truth.

“Then tell him. I know Cassian and if you were to leave, he would brush it off, but it would have an affect on him. Cassian tends to blame himself and his… bastard status as he calls it on people who walk out on him.”

The two ate in silence after that. Slowly, the ache receded. Still there, but not as much as when he woke up. Lucien was scraping the last bit of his scrambled eggs when someone joined them.

“Azriel,” Cassian moaned. “Please tell me you already have a hangover breakfast prepped.”

With a roll of his eyes, Azriel got a plate for his brother, as well as water and aspirin. He put the latter in front of Cassian then left, leaving Lucien and Cassian to figure out what happened.

Seconds ticked by, the silence suffocating.

“Do you regret it?”

Lucien looked up at Cassian, startled by the question. “No. Why would I be?”

Cassian looked at him in disbelief. “Really? We kissed last night, and if how I woke up was any indication, we did a whole lot more than that.”

“What do you mean ‘how I woke up’? How did you wake up?”

“Well, for starters, I woke up in my boxers. I mean, sure I go to sleep like that anyway, but I remember our make out session. Also, I have hickeys and scratch marks, which I’m assuming are from you.”

“Cauldron boil me!” Lucien wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow him.

Cassian let out a booming laugh before wincing. “Gods, it even hurts to laugh right now. But I don’t mind it Lucien. In fact, I kind of like it.”

“Shut up, Cassian!” Lucien had never been more mortified in his entire life. This moment surpassed the time when he and Andras were caught banging in a closet. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“I don’t know. I guess because I’m not good enough for you.” Cassian shrugged, faking nonchalance - a mask. He was pretending to not care about how Lucien thought of him.

Lucien’s temper flared. “Are you serious? Cassian, anyone would be a fool to not love you! No one is good enough for you, okay? Not the other way around! Don’t degrade yourself because you are not a bastard! You are one of the best people I have ever met. Gods, Cassian! Accept the fact that I love you and you are perfect for me, and I would love nothing more than to be with you, if I didn’t have so many gods damned problems!” It wasn’t until he finished yelling at Cassian that Lucien realized what he said.

“You-You love me?” Cassian gasped.

“Clearly.” Lucien snorted. “All the banter between us? That was me express my love. Well… it eventually became that.”

“You have a very interesting way of expressing your love, Foxboy.” Lucien loved the sound of his nickname on Cassian’s tongue. It had been awhile since he last heard the name - and he missed hearing it. Cassian cleared his throat. “I, um, love you, too.”

Lucien was sure he misheard, that somehow his mind was still foggy from his excessive drinking. “Seriously?”

“Yup. It’s hard to not fall for you, Lucien.” Cassian smiled - and Lucien thought it was the most beautiful sight in the world. “I actually loved you for awhile now. I didn’t tell you because I thought you did not feel the same way.”

Now it was Lucien's turn to grin. His joy was short lived when a recurring thought entered his mind.

Traitor. Traitor. What about Andras?

“What’s wrong?” Cassian asked, noticing the change in Lucien’s mood. He reached out to hold his hand.

“I want to be with you, Cassian. But… I also don’t want to.” The mix of shock and sadness in Cassian’s expression was heartbreaking. “It’s not you, I swear! The thing is… my previous boyfriend he recently… died.” Lucien's voice cracked on the last word. Two and a half months have passed, and he was still heartbroken.

“Was it Andras?” Cassian tentatively said.

“How do you know?” Lucien asked.

“I remember hearing in the news there was a car accident in the Spring Court part of the state. Two died - both were the drivers - and the passengers - five, I think - were injured.” Lucien remembered now. It was the biggest story, mainly because of who were part of the crash.

“It was Andras,” He whispered. “Andras died.” Tears welled in his eye.

“That’s why you have the scar; why Tamlin became a bigger asshole than he already was.” Lucien nodded; he hated thinking of that time in his life.

“Gods, Lucien, I am so sorry. And we don’t have to be in a relationship if you’re not ready. I’ll always wait for you.” Cassian said gently, placing a kiss on Lucien’s knuckles.

Love swelled inside Lucien. When an emotion he hadn’t felt since Andras became present in the presence of Cassian, he knew it was love; Lucien just hadn’t wanted to confront it. “I want to be with you, though. I want to be able to kiss you and hold you and go on dates with you, Cass.”

“Then what should we do?” And Lucien knew that if he said he did not want to be in a relationship, then Cassian would back off.

“I think… I think I can give us a try, but baby steps, Cass. Like, we would have to go at fucking grandma speed.” At that Cassian laughed - one of the most wondrous sounds Lucien had ever had the honor of hearing.

“I can do that,” Cassian promised. “But you’re going to have to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

And Lucien told - and showed - Cassian exactly that.

Weeks passed and Feyre still was pissed at Rhys. More than that even. He knew how much the truth meant to her and for him to not tell her his feelings, even if she understood why… it hurt.

She did not fail to notice, however, the light steadily returning in full force to Lucien. When Feyre returned to Mor’s house, she immediately noticed a difference in his demeanor - and he was more than eager to tell Feyre about what happened after Rita’s.

Cresseida - who Feyre learned was Amren’s boyfriend’s sister - called the two of them back. Apparently, other women had reported Tamlin, but nothing ever happened, which, as Cresseida had said, was likely because Tamlin bought people’s silence. This time, though, silence would not be bought, because Feyre was discovering her voice, and she was going to use it.

A court date had been set and news outlets caught wind of the news. Of course Tamlin was denying everything, saying Feyre was trying to get his money and ruin what he had built as “petty revenge for exposing her,” but she and Lucien were not backing down. The two were pushing back against Tamlin and Ianthe - who got roped into the matter - and it appeared they were on the winning side. Past victims of Tamlin’s abuse were now speaking out, and Feyre never felt better.

Of course, when the media would start talking about the case, Feyre knew she had to confront her sisters. Azriel found out they were staying at a nearby motel and he dropped of a letter from Feyre asking them to meet with her at The Sidra Café to talk.

“Feyre!” A cheery voice called when she stepped into the cozy building. Elain.

The sisters hugged. When they seperated, Feyre was greeted with the sight of a straight-faced Nesta. She was surprised when Nesta hugged her; Elain was the only person Nesta would openly show affection for. The three of them sat at a secluded corner table to provide them with as much privacy as one could get at a fairly busy café.

“I am so sorry, Feyre.” Nesta said.

“Why?”

“Why? Because you are my - our - baby sister and we did not realize you were with an abusive asshole! That’s why!”

“Until you showed up at Mor’s doorstep I hadn’t spoken to either of you in three years! Did you really expect me to reach out to you when I was in a difficult situation? Besides, I have Lucien and had Andras.” Feyre told them.

“We still would have wanted you to tell us, Feyre!” Elain cried.

“Well, How was I supposed to know? You never once bothered to help me before!” Feyre snapped. She inwardly sighed. This was not how she wanted their discussion to go; they were falling back into their old ways.

“We are sorry for that. It is my biggest regret, Feyre.” Nesta apologized. Elain nodded in agreement.

“I’m sorry too,” Feyre sighed. “For not telling you what was going on between me and Tamlin.”

“Can we start over?” Nesta asked.

“I would like that.” Feyre said. Maybe coming here wasn’t so bad after all, she thought.

Nesta, Elain, and Feyre spoke for the remainder of the afternoon before they had to leave. Nesta And Elain had to head back home, but they promised to keep in touch.

Feyre left feeling like another weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“Rhys, can’t you talk about this to someone else?” Mor whined. She loved her cousin, but his moaning and groaning about messing up with Feyre was starting to get on her nerves.

“But I need to know! Will she talk to me again? Why did I think having alcohol would be a good idea?” Rhys moaned.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you, Rhys, really. Do you have to complain to me, though? Isn’t this why you have Cassian and Azriel? Go bug them!”

“I already tried,” Rhys pouted. “But Cassian is being lovey-doves with Lucien and Azriel said it was my fault for not telling her sooner. Can you believe that?!”

Mor rolled her eyes. She could. Everyone told him to tell Feyre how he felt not more than a month after he had met her. It was obvious that he was in love, but Rhys refused to do anything about it.

“...And I just don’t know what do!” Rhys flopped down on the golden couch in Mor’s office. “Every time I attempt to talk to her, Feyre gives me the stink eye and walks away!”

“Then give her time. Now leave. I have work to do and you have to meet with Amren.”

“Fine, but I’ll find you later.” Rhys sighed, finally leaving and giving a Mor some peace. The second the door closed, Mor got a call from Andromache.

“Hey, Andi!”

“Mor!” Her girlfriend greeted. “Listen, do you think you can come down for the weekend?”

“Yeah, I’m free. Why?” Mor was curious; Andromache had never been a cryptic person.

“You’ll see. Just let me know if something comes up and you can’t make it!”

“Okay?”

“Love you!”

“I love you, too, Andi.” A warm smile graced Mor’s lips. One always did when she said those three special words to her girlfriend of five years.

Hours later, Mor finished finalizing the details for her show. In three weeks, her designs would be shown to the world in a fashion show. She couldn’t wait for the day to come! Her phone pinged, signaling she had received a text.

Want pizza???

I was thinking of Rita’s instead, Fey. That cool with you?

Yes! I haven’t been in awhile.

More accurately, she refused to go back after Rhys revealed his love for her. Mor really hoped her friend would decide what to do next. Mor hated seeing Rhys in such despair.

I’ll pick you up. I’m leaving now.

K. Lucien and Cassian are tagging along btw

We will suffer through their nauseating love together.

Deal.

Azriel was beyond exasperated. After telling the Inner Circle Hybern, Tamlin, and Ianthe’s plan, he could not find any information. They couldn’t do anything about it though without concrete evidence, and the recordings Azriel had could not be used. His contacts had nothing to tell him either - everything was silent. Between that and dealing with Rhys’s woeful behavior, he was in desperate need of a vacation.

Viviane burst through the door, Kallias hot on her heels.

“Az! Why didn’t you call me sooner?” Viviane exclaimed.

“Be happy Viv wants to get down to business now. I had to listen to her rant for hours!” Kallias said, earning him a light slap on the arm from Viviane.

“I did not!” She said.

Kallias and Viviane Winters. They became the best of friends when the two were only five years old. Viviane and Kallias had done everything together, never leaving each other’s side. When Kallias was eighteen, he left to go across the country to attend Stanford University. Four years later, he came back to Prythian where he reconnected with Viviane and ended up professing his love to her. As it turned out, Viviane also loved him, and thus began their relationship. Now the two were a happily married couple of five years.

“Sorry, Viviane,” Azriel laughed. “But I am so glad you are here. I knew you would be the best choice to represent Feyre and Lucien in court.”

“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Now when do I get to meet them?”

“Today I think we should go over the details for the case, so… tomorrow? If they are available of course.” Azriel told her.

“Great!” Viviane squealed.

“Rhys, I swear on the Mother and Cauldron that if you do not shut up right now, I will cut out your tongue!” Amren hissed.

Rhys immediately shut up. He did not want to face Amren’s wrath.

“Now as I was saying,” She continued. “After the trial, you, Feyre, and I will go to Adriata. Tarquin has requested our presence for the unveiling of his new line. We will spend a few days there, hopefully find something on Hybern and his dealings, then come back.”

“Got it.”

“And you are going to be the one to tell Feyre. I do not care about whatever silliness is happening between you two; you will see if she will come and that is final.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good. Now go.”

Rhys was in total despair. He had given up hope on Feyre talking to him ever again. He swore that he would never drink again, but of course that promise wouldn’t be kept. For years Rhys fantasized how he would reveal his feelings for Feyre and all the ways she would react. Not once did he imagine a drunken revelation would be how she found out.

Rhysand contemplated asking Feyre in person, but ended up taking the coward’s way out.

You, Amren, and I were invited to Adriata after the trial.

No reply.

Are you going to join us?

Same response.

If you are, let me or Amren know.

Finally, an answer came.

Fuck off.

But are you coming?

I’ll let Amren know.

Ignoring the stinging feeling, Rhys called Amren.

“What?”

“Hello to you, too, Amren. Feyre’s coming with us.”

“I know. Ask Feyre to come again.”

“Why? She said she would come?” Rhys said.

“I wanted you to grow a pair and ask Feyre in person. You did not, so ask her again.” Amren demanded.

“You never said I had to ask Feyre in person!”

“Well I’m telling you now!”

“Alright, I’ll ask her again. In person!” Rhys emphasized.

“Good.” Amren stated before hanging up.

“Mother help me.” Rhys muttered to himself.

*Burakgazi means “warrior” in Turkish*

Please, please, please let me know your thoughts! Updates weekly on Saturdays!

Tagging: @ourbooksuniverse @ame233 @sugarcoated44 @unicornbooks @adgedarling

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[ayelletee]

little updates

(edited 2.19.18 to add photos!)

back in january, M and T finally had time to visit me down here in Shonan. felt really happy showing them around Enoshima–it was such a bright, clear day that I had the clearest view of Mt. Fuji I think I’d ever seen from Enoshima. unfortunately it was also incredibly windy and we probably spent our whole day squinting.

got the chance to introduce Chinese New Year to a few of my special needs classes! I’ve been wanting to talk more about Taiwanese culture during my time here, so I’m really happy the teachers were also willing.

finally plucked up the courage to call and order a new spare apartment key. had to pay a ridiculous 4000 yen for it, but better to have it than not.

observed elementary school English classes! grateful for the opportunity to do it, since we literally never get to go seeing as we’re SHS and SEN school ALTs. it was sad to think about the fact that those cute, excited kids shouting out all the English they knew would soon become the sullen, English-hating JHS students that most ALTs have to deal with…

A came to visit, and we filmed a ridiculous PR video with the governor to promote our prefecture, lol. #JETProgrammeexperiences

traveled to Kanazawa with M and family. ate gold for the first time, consumed a ton of delicious fish, and fell in love with the old samurai district.

went to the After JET Conference where I saw some familiar faces and somehow made some new friends. the fact that I’m going home soon started to feel real. the conference wasn’t all that special, and the career fair was mostly an awkward sort of experience, but going there felt good in the sense that it was one of the last JET-associated things that I would get to go to, and to be among those who had all been on the same sort of journey in this country was comforting.

had my wallet stolen in a packed train. so much for super-safe Japan!! I was in a right panic for two days until I found it again (without all the money but everything else intact), but then I was annoyed because I had to wait for my new bank card to arrive after voiding my old one in a panic. cue a week of exchanging my random bits of foreign currency and embarrassingly borrowing some cash from teacher friends to get by.

went to my favorite high school’s graduation. with my infrequent visits to schools, I had my doubts that I would ever be able to see this kind of ceremony, so I’m so glad it somehow all worked out. got to see some of my favorite students graduate and wish them well. incredibly proud that some will be studying in universities abroad!

embarked on the craziest 10-day solo trip across Western Japan in which I hit up Hiroshima, Miyajima, Shimane, Yamaguchi, Fukuoka, Nagasaki, and Okayama using only the Seishun 18 Kippu and a night bus. missed multiple local trains and lost a day bc I missed my initial night bus, but it turned out to be one of the best adventures I’ve ever taken. traveling by train is definitely the best way to travel, hands down. although it took a long time coming all the way back to kanagawa (literally a full day of sitting on trains), it was actually really pleasant and seemed to go by faster than I expected. journaling and reading definitely helped.

APRIL STAFF CHANGES. our beloved W-sensei, S-sensei, and Y-kachou sadly left the center, but we got 4 new English-speaking staff to replace them, and they’re all lovely people. but because they’re so lovely, it just makes it that much harder to leave them all so soon, after we just met.

tried to do a hanami but that had to be canceled bc of horrible rain and wind. instead we ate at a restaurant and rescheduled for a picnic in Yoyogi Park the following weekend. my cherry blossom appreciation time this year was sadly limited to just the blossoms outside my office (although granted, they were quite gorgeous). when will I ever get the chance to have an actual hanami party??

managed to watch Yabusame in Kamakura! unfortunately the crowds were insane and we couldn’t actually see them hitting the targets, but it was still cool to experience.

ate high-grade sushi at Kyubey for the first time as a birthday treat. learned to appreciate fresh uni.

officially registered to take the JLPT N2 in July. RIP me.

mom came to visit! the week didn’t quite go as smoothly and peacefully as I had imagined in my head, since I had my own idea of what would be fun and interesting, and she apparently had her own. I was a little let down that she didn’t seem as enthusiastic about being here as I expected (but it was probably just that she didn’t really know how to show it). I realized I must have really aged though because that whole week was exhausting, when usually I’d be fine (see: 10 day crazy spring break trip).

[vixen-vangogh]

polyvore was being a pain in the ass no matter how many words i tried to censor so here’s the life update i meant to put in that set

- have been living in a somewhat stable housing environment for almost a year and four-ish months now which is WILD and a huge record break for me.

- kind of have a partner? we're def QPPs and have been nomadic vagabond companions since like 2015 and have been sleeping in the same bed, cuddling, making life plans together hardcore since then. when i try to explain our relationship to others i explain that we are like Bert and Ernie from sesame street. it's not romantic but it's definitely a very serious thing and there is nothing i could forsee that would face our future that would not be faced together as companions. i was kind of chatting with a buddy the other day who was asking abt stuff and i was mentioning how an aphobe asked, 'how is this different from a best friendship, why do you need to call it a queerplatonic relationship?' and my instinct was to be all, 'well idk i mean i think most best friends don't stick their tongues in each others mouths' but like that said, some best friends do that and its totally legit but the main difference is we call it this because it is more accurate to the intricacies of our relationship.

a best friendship implies different things and a QPR is what we have been calling ourselves for some time.

- have come across the term alterous attraction many many moons ago and have concluded that more or less, this has been the basis for all the experiences of 'attraction' i have thought i felt in other categories. turns out i just love being pro/miscuous and cuddly and affectionate with people and it doesn't necessarily have to have any of the other attractions present. it's just an expression of my alterous attraction. and idk it just seems to make way more sense. someone said it was a commonplace for pre-questioning lesbians to make up to themselves crushes on boys with calculations involved about why this person is attractive.

i think maybe i do experience other forms of attraction but they're seldom enough that it's more anecdotal. and i'm going to call them crushes anyway bc it doesn't matter what i say or do - people are going to be confused by me and who i am and i shouldn't have to sacrifice the nuances involved in who i am and how i live my life to try and get smaller minds to understand it.

and nobody has to understand either. i don't even understand. that's heckin ok bro

- i've been on them 'ro/ids (testosterone) on and off for three months in spring/summer 2016 (androderm) and then the injections for some amount of time this year and there's been a lot of body changes. but mainly i'm looking at nu/des of other people on hormones and realizing like... what if I'm actually inters/ex? it makes no sense for my di/ck to be bigger than people a year on hormones in half the time, does it? like what's up there? and my body is signif hairier in a way that is noticeable to me and my QPP.

last week when I got the inje/ctio/n the nurse (who is a really nice lady? like smiley very friendly maternal type) asked me "how did you know?" without other context or anything.

I didn't really know how to begin because honestly no one had ever asked me that before and it's the one question I needed somebody else to answer back when I was like, 15/recently 16 and needed help finding myself. I wished future me could visit past me and tell me like, "hey jsyk this is what you concluded, here's the answers, and here's all the stuff I've realized about our past experiences that were actually Signs that you're #genderqueer"

and I think, another thing, I wish I could have told the past me, that the laws were going to rapidly change in my lifetime, and also to avoid any cis person who suggests therapy "for hormone starts" because that's what led me to like, 2 years of rather unhelpful talk therapy that turned into lowkey conversion therapy.

No one should ever make you write a sob story about your past before they allow you the autonomy to make decisions about your body.

I gave a little backstory of timeline and told her how my mom kept saying things like, "why are you so offended at the idea of being a woman?" etc and how we don't speak anymore, how I came out in 2011 and every day for the longest time I had to explain to other trans people who the heck I was. how my nonbinaryness was seen more as a delusion despite the fact that I found the wikipedia pages and message boards and I knew there were other people like me out there. I didn't know of another #nonbinary person until 2013 and even then I only met them in passing at a panel they hosted. (we ended up roommates for a bit around 2016 but that's another story)

I stopped having to give #genderqueer 101s to the LGBT+ community around 2014.

And I feel like after that Laverne Cox paved a lot of way for us, and Facebook started putting other genders on there (which I'd signed petitions for years before and considered to be a hoop dream)

and there's been corrective r/a/pe I've gone through and so many tears I've cried and sui/cide attempted and hospital visits

and things are definitely still horrific and I can never afford groceries. I don't eat enough to sustain myself and live on welfare and am too medicated and disabled to work and have tachycardia and PTSD and other complications of my own forced resilience

but I'm on testosterone or whatever and I look at the changes that have gone on and I know that I was a part of that

but I'm never going to get credit for it and it pains me how much I'm suffering because I started advocating earlier than the majority of trans people out today.

if I had come out to my mom years later, would we be speaking?

it doesn't ultimately matter, because if we kept speaking I still would have ended up d/ead. coming out and having her react like that, topped with her steal/ing from me when I was homeless, years of sui/cide baiting, physical + emotional + etc a/buse my whole life, it's miraculous I ever made it out alive

it's so painful but I just have never had the privilege of choice.

- I've been thinking to go back to school maybe and that I need to actually go at it full force with passion because I think I have gotten way too down on myself for the results that have come from my own halfa/ssery of it all. And my own procrastination etc.

I wish I had access to medical care as a child or counselling or something more than I ever did have because maybe I would have excelled in school instead of suffered to try and keep my head above water. I mean, I graduated honours (equivalent).

there's too much about my life to be angsty about.

- also idk if i mentioned this but i got ar/rested for protecting indigenous folks at a thing and it was in the news and im not going to talk much more on it bc of privacy but i'm happy to dig up the video of the pol/ice dragging me away and the crowd shouting (and gendering me right ;u;) "LET THEM GO, LET THEM GO" and i was a pathetic mess thru the whole thing and just had the wrong emotions the whole time and like 3+ reporters tried to get a hold of me for interview but I forwarded them to the indigenous leaders of the ceremony instead

we prayed inside the arre/st tent and put down tobacc/o and held ceremony and the c/ops were horrible and took so much personal offence to everything we were and every reality that happened that they wanted to deny. they banned us from the public land we were arrested on and it was horrible.

it was in the news and justin tr*deau showed up for a photo op and the organizers weren't allowed in their own tipi. he wasn't invited.

those with the land claim to the area made an official statement welcoming us and condemning the go/vernme/nt for arrestin/g us.

nothing was ever done about that bit other than them releasing us and i went to the hospital the next day to get my wrist checked because i couldn't really use it and the handcuf/f bruises and the bruise on my knee was massive. it's been two months and it's only now faded.

twitter blocked the image of us in the a/rrest tent holding hands in prayer with the hand/cuffs on our wrists. they said it contained "sensitive content"

tumblr did the same, calling it "NSFW" (weird bc literally photographs of my actual na/ked body with links to where u can buy videos of me jerkin is not labelled NS/FW automatically lol?????)

i asked tumblr to review that and they still labelled it as such.

it's just so blatantly a genuine broach of free speech and freedom of religion. it was a crimi/nalized religious ceremony and i got between the co/ps and a woman praying.

- i saw Against Me! in march and the mosh pit was extreme and I fell down at some point and like seven people pulled me up and that and the getting arre/sted thing has really hecked up my knees ! i feel like they're mostly healed since but i've not even been kneeling on my mattress for even a second to make sure of this. otherwise it's just been sudden pain for months but as i said, i think they're a lot better now.

- i came forward abt a pr/edatory ex and a few others of their victims came to me to say that they had gone through the same and that they were even more pre/datory than had been with me. i lost quite a lot of friends in the matter bc what i accused them of was extremely serious and came across as vicious on my part.

i'm going to take it as alright though, because i know that i've put what i said out there, and if they have read it at all, they can at least have these ideas in their mind going forward and take precautions. this ex was confronted publically and directly on social media about it and there were several witnesses and screenshots i had to things they did and said. i'm hoping that serves as some kind of warning for them, about their actions that they have confessed to with several people, and how these things will come back for them. that they cannot evade accountability, that i am a force of nature and if you wrong me or do a wrong in my witness with no remorse on your part or apology, i'm not going to let you live it down.

i care and i am tired of hearing horrible stories about them from others. others who came to me saying that i had been painted as an abus/er. because i know ! people see me standing up for myself as threatening all the time. they worry they aren't allowed to make mistakes around me.

no matter how many times i say it or prove it, there's always those people who are too cowardly to admit when they do make mistakes and who go to great lengths to protect their pride and entitlement.

i know we are all growing. i seek environments of mutual support and growth. i am now in a phase of life where i am not giving the time to people who have no interest in these environments. anyone can be my friend, if they are ready for it. but i don't owe it to anybody and anything wrong i have done i am at a point where i feel like i am in touch with my own humility.

and if someone tries to milk it because they think my vulnerability isn't also strength and something that comes with at least some ferocity... well, that's not my problem.

- my rabbit Snicklefritz is doing fine. he's shedding like the dickens this season and mischievous as usual but hopefully one day I can afford to make him an enclosure again and I can let him out only when I can keep track of him.

he's ruined a lot of sketchbooks and a lapdesk my QPP got me for the winter holidays that we are both heartbroken about.

- I am trying to become less attached to material belongings and it has helped me a lot when it comes to coping with all the sentimental items left with my mother or in the various times I've been homeless or left exes etc over the years.

My memories are in my heart and not something that needs to be placed externally, in an item.

Have also trying to go zero waste (like, becoming someone who produces no garbage, just recycling and compost) and it's really been noticeable all these small differences. I buy way more bananas, lettuce, etc. And I've been making bread and spaghetti and whatnot and having windowsill gardens.

- I'm not cured of anything or whatever and I'm angsty 24/7 and broke as heckaroo but there's enough of The Little Things In Life (gardening, youtube videos, kisses, etc) to help me get by in the meantime.

- three days ago a friend (who I consider(ed) chosen family) I had purposefully cut out of my life a year ago showed up on my doorstep to tell me I was right about everything and to apologize for all the wrongs. That they reread conversations we had around then and that they have grown and grown into a better place. They were 18 then and 19 now. We were from the same hometown and they're still there but moving to my city in December. I missed them so much and they stayed with me a few days. I feel a bigger sense of home in this city knowing they're going to live here soon too.

- I've been Really Intensely looking thru my DNA and geneology stuff since last winter. For some reason Indian (like, South Asia) shows up in my DNA and some southern Europe/Northern Africa/Middle East kind of region. My father was adopted via a stepdad and I figure this comes from his bio dad. Or maybe it doesn't, I don't really know. My maternal haplotype is supposed to be one that's generally found in African populations which throws that whole theory. My mom and me also had to use hair picks (afro picks) when I was growing up because our hair was so naturally thick and the waves really tangled up. Every time we went to get my hair cut in that white rural town the hairdressers would comment how they'd never seen such thick hair before etc. I'm still struggling greatly to find answers because everybody's last name is phoenetically weird except for my dad's mom's line which has an extremely Cornwall last name and anyone with that name is definitely part of that family.

Doing research to find what I was told growing up (that I was Kanien'keha:ka via my maternal grandmother's grandmother) has been very difficult because I'm not sure which grandmother of hers it was, and one of them seemed to remarry several times and I cannot be sure of any of the surnames being a maiden name. It's also really hard to know what the spelling was supposed to be because it was written phoenetically. But I think that one's likely English anyway. The other one I haven't reached yet but my grandmother's father's father seemed to be from a Metis community outside a reserve where I remember being told we had ancestors. It seems we're descendants of some really famous anglo Metis folk. I've not figured out the specific links to lock the names all into place properly in my family tree but it's the surname and the small community that are an exact match and on the message boards.

It's a lot to think about. I've been struggling with my racial identity for a long time and regardless of nuances and ethnic identity I feel like I'm just doing this research to seem special or more interesting or to branch out my activism. DNA is not ever going to tell me who my ancestors were, just the locations a small handful of random specific ancestors lived. Family trees are going to help, but they're not going to help me too much as someone who doesn't actually have blood family I'm in contact with really.

I might see if I can get in touch with an older cousin I have on Pinterest because she seemed to be the only one (besides my younger cousin) who really ever sent me vaguely kind gestures after I came out. She was the only one who seemed to be supportive when I did my grandma's eulogy. (Aside from my sibling who went up with me. But I don't speak to my sibling for other reasons.)

I have a paternal cousin as well but we're more half-cousins as my dad's mom had a few different men in her life and I don't actually know if he does have full bio-siblings. I don't really know if it's worth it to reach out to her because with all the technicalities and separations and adoptions and half-relatives I don't know whether I can ask her to ask around, or if I can just ask her, or what.

Anyway whatever it's just easiest to explain my ethnicity as being Metis because talking with others and stuff it seems like maybe this is the best way to label myself, to explain my complicated history and acknowledge that my blood ties are not what makes me me, but rather my ethnic ties. I have traditions and beliefs and ancestors I'm reconnecting with and trying to find.

Not all my ancestors were great people. But it is interesting as heck to learn about them. (Especially seeing pictures and some of the weirder resemblances from like, 5th great grandparents.)

Also one of my greats of grandparents crossed the US-Canada border several times in his life and near the end of them the border agent wrote "seems odd" on the thing and I haven't found any explanation for why he was crossing the border either lol which is pretty dang interesting imo.

- anyway idk I think I'm good ?? have been getting a lot of new interests and hobbies lately which feels good, feels right

i'm getting muscles because of them hormones and probably eating healthier or whatever and drinking more water and just livin life as best i can

could use some more dollars however but what can u do when welfare doesn't go up to match minimum costs of living haha :)